Elvira Dones - Sworn Virgin

So we go as we came,

goodbye, my brother sea.

The next day she goes to the college library and returns all her borrowed books. It’s nine in the morning and at that time there are only a couple of professors. The librarian is a man to be respected; his smile is reassuring and his manner affable. He asks Hana if she wants to take any other books out.

‘No, this time I’m just returning them, thanks.’ The man goes back to his work.

She spends an hour in the reading room, leafing through a volume of Emily Dickinson’s poetry. There’s no point taking notes; it’s best to leave without saying goodbye. But she can’t resist. She takes out a pencil and some paper and copies out a few poems.

The librarian looks over at her every now and then from his desk.

‘You can take it if you want,’ he says in the end.

‘I live in the north and I can’t return it on time. I can’t come down specially.’

‘You can keep it until the end of August.’

‘I’m not coming in August,’ Hana says, waiting for some kind of response. Go on, ask me something, she begs in silence. But the man doesn’t ask her anything. He turns away, hunched, as he files the index cards in their file, writes something in a register, and forgets all about her.

‘Have a good day,’ Hana says, too softly to be heard, and leaves the library.

When she gets to the gate of the School of Philology she looks one last time at the edifice, built by the Italians during the Fascist occupation. Her clothes are starting to itch. The sun beats down even more fiercely than yesterday; sand and sweat make swirling lines like maps or flowers on her pants.

Hana starts walking fast towards the center, but just as she is past the Italian embassy gate a boy’s voice calls her. She turns round. It’s Ben, the classmate who studies French.

‘That’s the third time I called out your name,’ he complains. ‘Are you deaf or something? Hello? Hana?’

She’s unsure whether to hold her hand out or not.

‘Here she is! The girl who just disappears without any warning. How are you?’

‘Fine.’

He says he’s sorry about her aunt’s death, the girls from the dorm told him. Hana tries to control her breathing; her heart is beating fast. She stares right into his eyes so that he can’t see the effect he’s having on her. Calm down. Stay still. It’s just some guy trying to be nice. And you’re such a mess in your crumpled pants.

He asks her where she’s going. She says she’s going home after returning her library books. She smiles. Ben says he is on his way to the Faculty. His hair would make a girl jealous, it’s so glossy and healthy-looking. His eyes burn into you when you look at him. Their slant makes him both hard to grasp and insistent at the same time. It doesn’t make sense, she thinks. He’s just trying to be nice. Ben smiles.

‘I’ve been looking for you,’ he says. ‘I’ve been waiting for you for a long time.’

If she really had to force herself to like a guy, given that it was the cool thing right now to be in love, Hana would choose Ben. That way she wouldn’t seem so out of place. She would choose Ben — but it was only a silly thought.

‘I’m going to miss my train.’ It’s not true. She has plenty of time, but she’d better get out of this situation before her heartbeat becomes unbearable.

‘Can’t we have a drink together somewhere downtown?’ he asks. She says she’s not used to expressions like ‘let’s have a drink’ or ‘I’ve been looking for you.’ She stops, regretting it already.

‘I’m sorry. I know I’m really rude sometimes.’

The new soldier on guard duty is staring at them.

‘Let’s move,’ Ben proposes. ‘You’re not allowed to stand here for long. I’ll walk with you wherever you’re going. Let’s sit down for five minutes, please.’

It’s the first time she’s ever sat in a café with a boy. Luckily the place is almost empty and this helps her behave more naturally. The café only offers dry-looking cakes and half-melted ice cream. Hana orders a lemonade that tastes like soda water while Ben has a cup of coffee.

‘Finally,’ he says, pleased with the way things are going. ‘I didn’t know who else to ask about you.’

This is a guy who doesn’t give up, she thinks. He behaves like a one-man assault unit, but there’s something about his manner that she likes. Ben’s father is the dean of the medical school and his mother is a famous opera singer.

‘Are you going to say something sooner or later?’ he asks, with a smile. ‘Or do I have to do all the work here?’

She’s quiet, weighing her thoughts. ‘Forget it, Ben,’ she says, as kindly as she knows how. She’s said his name. She goes red. ‘It’s a really bad time for me.’

He stares at her, his confidence draining away.

‘I know I seem strange, but I’m not really. I know I look awkward, but I’m not really. Well, yes I am, a little, but that’s not the problem right now. Right now I have to work out when I’m going to be able to cry. Then things will get easier. I can’t cry right now, I really can’t.’

He looks at her, even more confused. In the few films Hana has seen, the men look at their women exactly this way. The village doctor had looked at her that way at the kulla . Come on, explain it to him, she says to herself. Don’t make him go away without even helping him understand. At least that.

She tells him that her uncle, Gjergj Doda, is dying of cancer and that he is the only person left in her family, except for a cousin her age called Lila who is married and doesn’t live in the village anymore. Ben twirls the empty coffee cup around in his hand.

‘I’m sorry,’ he says.

They order again. This time Hana has a coffee and he asks for a little cake. He then asks if he can help in any way. She smiles without looking up and asks him if he can arrange things so that Uncle Gjergj doesn’t die. He goes quiet.

‘I have to go,’ Hana says. ‘Or I really will miss my train.’

‘I wanted to be with you.’

‘I wanted to be with you too,’ she lets slip.

If he were less good-looking it would make things easier for her. And as for his voice …

Forget it, no way. Nothing.

‘So stay,’ Ben says. ‘Stay until tomorrow.’

‘I can’t.’

She gets up and he follows her, after throwing the coins on the table to pay for their order. She doesn’t even try to go through the useless routine of offering to pay. She knows he wouldn’t allow it. She may as well save them both the whole song and dance.

Outside the café, the door closes behind them; the sun hanging like a sword over their heads, Hana holds out her hand and he takes it, tightening his grasp.

‘My world is collapsing,’ she says calmly, almost detached. ‘And I don’t know if I can hold it together. I don’t even know why I’m telling you this. I need to go …’

Ben wants to walk her as far as the station, and does not take no for an answer.

They walk fast, heads down, in the vain attempt to shield themselves from the sun. She counts one and a half steps to every step of his. Hardly anyone else is walking outside. There are more bicycles made in China than anything else on Viale Stalin. Ben’s legs are hidden in jeans; anyone who owns a pair of jeans in Tirana is rich and powerful. In front of the Variety Theater he asks her why her pants are white with salt. Hana tells him about her beach trip and how she didn’t have a bathing costume.

‘So you went swimming in your clothes?’

‘I couldn’t go in naked.’

‘I did it once last year, it was cool.’

Hana laughs.

‘When you don’t have a change of clothes it’s not so cool. My skin is stretched tight; there’s no water at the dorm.’