Tsura: A World War II Romance

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  Luca continued to improve over the next day and the next. He was lucid when he woke on the third day and Tsura told him in whispers about everything that had happened since he’d been taken from her. About Domnul Popescu’s basement and the Weinbergs and Andrei. She went on and on about the last topic, and was surprised to look down and find Luca frowning at her.

  “And how do I know this boy is good enough for you?”

  Tsura laughed, spooning broth into his mouth. “He’s hardly a boy, and I’m not a little girl anymore. And he helped me. I was…” she glanced away, studying the cracks in the plaster near the window, “having difficulties being separated from you, but he helped me find joy again.”

  Luca waved away the next spoonful of broth. Tsura set the bowl down on a side table. Luca’s hand found hers and his gaze narrowed. “Difficulties? Like in the year after you first came to live with me?”

  Tsura looked down. “It’s just…there was no one left. Without you, I had no vitsa or hope of one. Father sent me away because no man would ever want me. And then you were taken and he had already died, not that I would’ve been welcomed back anyway—” She shook her head, looking up and squeezing Luca’s hand. “But none of that matters anymore,” she smiled brightly. “Now I have you back, and Father was wrong. Andrei does want me. He doesn’t care that I can’t have children. Hopefully this war will be over soon and we’ll be together again.”

  Luca stared at her in confusion. “That’s not why Tati sent you to live with me.”

  Now it was Tsura’s turn to be confused. “What?”

  “Tsurica, is that what you thought all these years?” Luca tried to sit up on his bed, but Tsura pushed him back down.

  “Don’t move, you’re still so weak!” she chided. Luca was getting agitated and he didn’t need that. She wanted to know what he was talking about, but his health was more important. She pressed the back of her hand against his forehead. “You need to rest, we’ll talk about this another time.”

  But he lifted a frail hand and caught hers before she could pull away. “No, we talk now.”

  “All right, all right,” she said soothingly. “Lay back and be calm. I’m listening.”

  He dropped his arm back to his side and his breath rattled in his lungs. A coughing fit wracked his frail body. Tsura held him and then gave him water through a straw to ease his throat. He was exhausted by the brief exertion but ignored her when she urged him to rest again.

  “Tati didn’t send you away because you couldn’t marry,” he said, still wheezing slightly. Tsura leaned closer so he could whisper. “Well, that was part of the reason, but not in the way you seem to think. Within the vitsa, he knew the men would likely not take a barren wife.”

  Tsura swallowed. She didn’t want to talk about this. Her back stiffened. She wanted to pull away, but this seemed important to Luca so she forced herself to stay still.

  “But Tsurica, it was the hardest thing he ever did to send you away.” Luca let out a weak huff of laughter. “Probably harder than sending me, his son, away. Tati told me that when Grandfather died and it was only the two of you left, he loved you more than anything else in the world. Then you were attacked, and he was destroyed by it. He could barely speak when he called me on the phone to come for you.”

  This was all harder to hear than Tsura had expected. Her voice shook when she asked. “Then why, if he loved me so much, did he send me away, never to see me again?”

  Luca took her hand, a twitch of his fingers all he could manage in the way of a comforting squeeze. “Think about it. Father was older than most when he had us, fifty-five when you were attacked. What would happen to you when he died, with no man to marry and protect you?” Luca’s voice gentled. “And he did pass only a few years later.”

  Tsura stared at Luca. “I would have stayed among the vitsa. They would’ve taken care of me.”

  Luca shook his head. “No, sister. You would have been considered too young to keep his wagon all on your own. You would have been taken in by Cousin Anca.”

  Tsura flinched. She remembered Cousin Anca all too well, the woman who beat her when she went for cooking lessons.

  “She always resented Tati and the fact that Grandfather Besnik had such a place of prominence among the vitsa when Besnik’s brother, Anca’s own father, wasn’t respected at all,” Luca said.

  “But he was a drunk and a cheat!” Tsura protested.

  “Exactly, and Cousin Anca was a horrible woman. She would’ve made you suffer all your life, with no way out through marriage to a man. Tati did the only thing he could to protect you. He sent you to me.”

  Tsura sat back in her chair. Astonishment was all she could feel. She’d believed her father had deemed her broken without the ability to bear children. Unworthy. Unlovable. For a long time she’d believed that of herself as well.

  “Why didn’t he say?” She whispered, clutching her stomach. “Why didn’t he explain? I never understood. I thought— I thought—” She swallowed, unable to finish.

  “I’m sorry, sister. I assumed you knew. As for why he didn’t visit—you know he couldn’t. It’s the Roma way. That was the sacrifice. We were dead to him. That was the price of our futures. How much he loved us.” Luca smiled, but it was a sad, sad smile. Then the look on his face turned to one of determination. “But I need you to promise me something, Tsura. To swear it on our blood.”

  Tsura sat up straighter at his tone. “Anything, Luca, you know I’d promise you anything.”

  Luca nodded. “Good. Father did everything he could to protect you and thank God for Mihai stepping in when I couldn’t these last two years. But you are older now and this world can be terrible and cruel.” There was a darkness in his eyes as he said this and Tsura hated that he was talking about protecting her when all she wanted was to go back in time and protect him from all the things he’d seen and had to live through. But he continued, “So you must swear to me that no matter what happens, you will survive. No matter what happens to me or anyone else. You will continue to live on and not let yourself fade away again. What happens if next time this Andrei or I or Mihai are not there?”

  “Luca, don’t talk like that!” She pressed her hand to his cheek. “You are going to be fine. You are getting better. You barely have any fever anymore.”

  “Good,” Luca said stubbornly, “then this shouldn’t be a hard promise for you to make.”

  “Luca—”

  “Swear it,” he cut her off.

  “But Luca—”

  His bony hand clutched hers, ragged nails biting into her skin. “Swear it, sister. Swear to me that you’ll survive, Tsura, swear it. No matter what. No matter the cost. Swear to me my soul will live.”

  Tsura relented. Anything to ease him and give him peace. “I swear it, Luca. I will survive no matter what. And you will be there the whole time to make sure of it.”

  Luca relaxed into the bed. He was sweating and looked drained.

  “You have tired yourself out, my little fool,” Tsura wiped his brow. She would give him such a good life full of good things to try to erase memories of all the bad he’d endured. And it was a wonder, learning that her father hadn’t betrayed her as she’d thought, but instead had sent her away out of love—it should feel like a more momentous thing. Instead, she only felt a deep abiding sense of rightness. Their father had loved her. Of course he had. As she loved Luca and he loved her. Her family. What was broken had been made whole again.

  “Tell me a story, my soul. And make it a pretty one.” Luca closed his eyes.

  Tsura obliged and began to tell him the story of the morning star and the evening star. “Once upon a time something extraordinary happened. If it had not happened it would not be told. There was once an emperor and empress,” Tsura began.

  After Luca fell asleep again, Tsura’s body slumped on the stool. She was beyond exhausted. She went over to the cot they’d pulled back against the far wall for her. She laid down only to rest he
r eyes and ended up falling asleep.

  When she woke, Luca and Mihai were talking in low tones. Mihai was on a low stool pulled up beside Luca’s cot, dressed in his usual neat suit, though without a tie. Tsura sat up and rubbed her face. “What are you two scheming about?” She got up and went over to the chair on the other side of Luca’s bed.

  Luca grinned at her. “Mihai here was telling me about what it’s like to be married to a stubborn one like you. And I was asking him how he’s survived your cooking. I of course built up an iron stomach when you lived with me, but he’s had no such luxury.”

  “That’s not what I said at all,” Mihai broke in, straight-faced as always, but Luca only laughed, a deep wheezing laugh that turned into a cough.

  “Don’t make me laugh,” Luca clutched his chest with a wan hand, but he was grinning, and that alone swept away any lingering fears Tsura had about her brother’s recovery. In spite of all he had seen in Transnistria, and everything he’d witnessed in the war beforehand when he lost his leg, he was able to laugh with them. Luca clutched one of Tsura’s hands and then one of Mihai’s from the other side of his bed and pulled them close so that all three hands were touching in the center of Luca’s chest over his heart. “I am home,” he sighed in relief, closing his eyes. “You two are my family, my only true family.”

  Mihai was staring at their hands all clasped together, eyebrows raised in surprise one second and then dropping low the next. Tsura leaned over and kissed Luca on the temple.” Yes, we are your family. Always.”

  They stayed like that for a long time, hands clasped over Luca’s chest until he fell asleep again, a contented smile on his face. Only after she was sure he was asleep did she pull her hand back. Mihai pulled his back as well and then he rubbed hard at his face. Had those been tears glittering in his eyes before he’d scrubbed them away? But no, when he looked back at her, his face was the same cool façade as ever.

  Tsura stood, stretching. “I think I’ll go to the hotel to bathe and change.” Now that Luca was feeling better, she finally realized how grimy and dirty she felt. How many days had it been since she’d last changed clothes? She didn’t know. The days and nights of the last week had melted together.

  Mihai handed her the key. “You should take a nap on a real bed too. You’ve got to be exhausted.”

  “I’ll be fine,” she smiled and stretched again. For the first time in years, she truly believed those words. She would be fine. Things were going to be all right. “I’ll be back in an hour.”

  Then, right as she reached the door to leave, Luca let out a howl of pain. He jackknifed up in bed and clutched his side.

  She spun around. “Luca, what’s wrong?” She ran back to his side.

  He let out another high-pitched moan. “My stomach,” he gasped. He clutched his stomach and curled up onto his side.

  “Get the doctor!” Tsura shouted to Mihai, but he was already out the door. Luca leaned over and vomited over the side of the bed.

  “Oh God, Luca!” Tsura grabbed one of the cloths she’d been using to cool his forehead with and wiped his mouth. He continued making pitiful noises of pain and his face turned gray. A few moments later he was vomiting again.

  “Nurse!” Tsura shouted. “Somebody help!”

  Mihai rushed back in with a doctor in tow, two nurses following behind them.

  “He started screaming and saying his side hurt,” Tsura said, the words spilling over themselves as she was jostled out of the way by the doctor moving closer to examine Luca. The doctor pulled down the blankets and pressed on the side of Luca’s stomach. Luca howled in pain.

  “Perforated bowel, most likely,” the doctor said in a clipped tone. “It can happen with typhoid cases. We’ll need to operate right away.” Then the doctor began barking orders at the two nurses, who brought in a stretcher and quickly loaded Luca’s writhing body onto it.

  “You’re going to be okay,” Tsura called through threatening tears as she walked along side the stretcher, clasping Luca’s hand. She wouldn’t cry. Not when Luca needed her. His face was scrunched in pain and he didn’t respond.

  The nurses and doctors took Luca from the room and Mihai put a hand on her shoulder to hold her back from following. “Let them do their work. Luca will come out of this. You know he will. We’re in a hospital. The doctor came right as it was happening. He’ll be fine.”

  She nodded miserably and then spent the next fifteen minutes pacing the corridor, wondering what was going on behind the closed door. Mihai stood stoically against one wall, arms crossed, unmoving.

  “God, please save him, please,” she whispered. Of course Luca would be fine, though. Only an hour ago they’d been laughing with him. She’d seen the old teasing light back in his eyes, and she’d known, she’d known, deep down in the pit of her that he was going to survive. That was all she needed to focus on. He was her soul and she was his and he wasn’t going anywhere.

  She looked at the clock on the wall. Twenty minutes now. Once Luca got better, they’d take him back to Bucharest with them. She’d already made up a fake ID for him in anticipation of the day he returned. Soon neither of them would need them. The war would be over and old arrest warrants for Roma and Jews would be voided. She would marry Andrei, and Luca would live in the same town and he’d come by every evening and they’d all eat dinner together. She’d even invite Mihai since it would make Luca happy. And she’d be a good cook by then, she swore it. She would be patient and kind to everyone, and they would all be happy, so happy—

  The door to the operating room opened and the doctor stepped out. His face was drawn. His gloved hands were covered in blood. He was just tired, that was all. Saving people’s lives was tiring work.

  “He’s better, yes?” Tsura asked, even as a horrible sensation erupted in her chest. But that was foolish. This man would tell her that Luca was safe now and as soon as she saw him she would berate him for giving her such a scare—

  “I’m sorry,” the doctor said. “His body was simply too weak to survive the surgery. His heart stopped. We couldn’t restart it.”

  “No,” Tsura whispered, her head shaking back and forth. “No, he’s fine. Mihai tell him.” She swung to Mihai. “Tell him we were just talking to him an hour ago and he is fine!”

  Mihai’s eyebrows were drawn together in pain. “Tsura,” he reached for her, but she yanked away and slammed her palms against the doctor’s chest, pushing past him.

  “Luca!” She called. “Luca, wake up and tell them you’re fine!” She barreled into the room and there was Luca on the bed. Blood covered his opened mid-section, viscera exposed. His eyes were vacant, skin too pale. Two nurses who had been cleaning up were saying something to her but she couldn’t hear them.

  “No!” she shrieked at the top of her lungs. “No!” She ran to his side and cradled his limp body in her arms. The nurses scattered and headed towards the door. Tsura’s hands immediately became slippery with blood. Luca’s blood. His body was still warm. But his face was all wrong.“Viața mea, my life, you can’t leave me here alone. Not after everything. Not after I had you back!”

  She looked back down at his stomach and the intestines that had begun to sag and fall out of the opening. Hysterically, she tried to shove them back in, as if by putting them back inside where they belonged, she could make him whole again. She could fix this. She screamed and kicked when two men came in to pull her away from Luca. She only realized one of the men holding her around the waist was Mihai once they’d dragged her out of the room. She heard his voice loud in her ears, but couldn’t make out the words over the sound of her own screams. Her chest was being ripped open, cleaved right down the center. Half of her soul was trapped in the lifeless body in that room, the body that had no longer been Luca anymore even though it had his shape. But Luca’s eyes had never looked like that. Luca’s heart wouldn’t stop like that, not when he knew how much she needed it to beat.

  “Luca!” she screeched, still fighting to get away from Mihai and th
e other man who held her. “Luca!”

  “Hold her still!” An unfamiliar voice shouted, one of the doctors maybe, and then Tsura felt a prick in her arm and slumped as the world went dark.

  Chapter 17