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4
The day I first heard the word ‘seconded’ was the day my
mother shut herself away for the first time. I’m not sure
what my father had told her, as he wouldn’t let me go back
home with him when we returned from the market.
Instead he told me to play in the courtyard until he called
me in for lunch. This was the first, and last, official order I
received from Colonel Nedelko Borojević in my life, but it
had been uttered in such a way that its militaristic nature
was in no doubt. I obeyed without objection. I was left to
wander aimlessly, while father broke the terrible news
about us having to move to Belgrade. I’ll never forget the
silence that clouded the room when I came home:
Normally, we kept the TV or radio on, so we wouldn’t hear
the buzzing of the fridge. My mother dragged her clothes
out of the large wardrobe in the hall and dropped them
onto the bed, in the bedroom. The only thing on the
dining table was a plate of macaroni with minced meat and
some Parmesan, a clear message for me to eat lunch and
ask no questions. My father told me, in passing, that we
were going to Belgrade for a while because of his job, and
that mother would pack my things. The next time he
circled by me, he added that I could go back out and play
or watch TV, but I wasn’t to hang around the apartment
after lunch, because everything had to be put away before
we left.