Trafika Europe 5 - Slovenian Interlude

It was calmer on the third floor. One door was labelled Vukmirović & Kebo, while opposite lived Dr Mehmed Dizdar. I was pretty sure I could eliminate these, too. I was pretty sure that Nedelko had lived or, I hoped, continued to live, alone in Brčko, and I was even more certain that he would not know how to play the role of a doctor, even if he had been taught role-playing at a military academy for years. So I continued up the stairs towards the screaming, hustling, bustling Ćubrilo family, while Vasa Đorđić’s door opposite sounded more promising. I approached but couldn’t hear anything aside from the jungle of the Ćubrilo family, with someone calling out for Zorica, and Zorica shouting that she was coming right away. On the top floor, the Babić family had pots of fresh flowers around their threshold, while a bunch of newspapers had piled up on the doormat of the Zdravković family. I checked the dates, and they were recent – dailies from last week. I wondered if a runaway general might still live in one of these apartments? I narrowed it down to three: the Mitrović and Zdravković apartments, which seemed occupied, and the Đorđić apartment, which appeared possibly vacant. The thought that I might be a few steps away from my dead, but now raised, father made my head spin, and I realized just how nervous and ill prepared I was to meet him. A cold liquid surged through me, and I had the urge to run out of the shabby building and lock myself inside the car. I decided that Nedelko didn’t live

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