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Maria Matios
waited for Mykhailo to come
from the mountain valley,
but in the early morning
had already sent two
gazdas
to the river to search. And
just as Mykhailo appeared at
the threshold, the caretaker
advised him not to dawdle
chatting and not to tarry with
inquiries among the people,
and just to go to the police
station to file a report about
his wife’s disappearance.
Yilashko already had filed a
report, but it was necessary
for Mykhailo to do this as
well. There wasn’t much
hope, but there they know
better what’s going on in the
village and even beyond its
borders… the time was such,
that it was necessary to dash
wherever you could, while
there was somewhere and
someone to dash to….
Lieutenant
Lupul,
simultaneously the chief
of the Cheremoshne police
office and the border post,
in Romanian
posterunok
,
silently listened to Mykhailo’s
report, for a long time twirled
his sparse mustache beneath
his nose, then sighed heavily,
looking back at the wide open
window, through which flies
were scurrying, as though he
were checking whether there
was anyone by the wall, and
said:
“Mihai,
right
now
it’s
becoming really alarming
here… soon a lot could
change… but we’ll search for
your wife. The Primar sent his
people, we’ll give ours. We’ll
help.”
Mykhailo ignored Lupul’s
uncertain words about his
anxiety – it was as though
he had gone mad from
uncertainty. However he
unexpectedly
asked
the
lieutenant: