Page 79 of Tom Clancy Line of Sight
How do you get beyond all of this?” Jack asked as Aida drove them to their next destination. “Even if every war criminal went to jail and every politician apologized, it wouldn’t bring back the tens of thousands of people killed.”
“You’re right. If we only look to the past, we can never move forward as a nation. But because we still haven’t dealt with the real causes of the war, I’m afraid we’re doomed to repeat the same mistakes.”
“I thought you had hope.”
“I do. There is a bright future for my country. I’m just not exactly sure how we get there.”
They rode along for a minute when Aida suddenly popped Jack on the arm with a friendly tap, trying to change the somber mood.
“Enough of all of this depressing war talk! Let me show you why my city is the most beautiful in the world, and why it will be great again.”
They spent the rest of the day taking in the best Sarajevo had to offer, indoors and out. They wound up back in the Old Town, browsing through the shops of Aida’s favorite local artists.
As they passed one of the shops, Jack saw a phrase stenciled in black block letters on the wall. It seemed completely out of place and yet the owner didn’t remove it:Samo nek’ ne puca.
Jack pointed it out. “What does it mean?”
Aida grinned. “You have to understand our dark humor. It’s a saying that came out of the war, but it applies today. You know, with the high unemployment and corruption, all of our other troubles? The joke translates to something like ‘Our lives totally suck and aren’t worth living, but at least nobody is shooting at us.’”
She led Jack into a small gallery of handmade jewelry and art. She picked out a pair of handmade bronze earrings crafted from thin strips of antique coffee urns, etched with designs and studded with two small stones. The woman placed them in a small, cleverly folded box of her own design and handed it to Jack.
“What’s this?”
“For your mother,” Aida said. “My gift to her.”
“She’ll love these.”
“I know she will.” Aida smiled. “I have excellent taste.”
She reached into her purse, but the gallery owner refused to take her money despite her repeated attempts. Aida finally relented and they headed out.
They ended the afternoon at Baklava Ducan, run by a couple young guys with a passion for culinary tradition. “The best in town,” Aida assured Jack, as they were served coffee and the Bosnian version of baklava. The Greek—or was it Turkish?—dessert was usually a cloying, honey-soaked stack of crunchyphyllo, but the pieces he tried here had far more subtle flavors and a softer texture that practically melted in his mouth. He predicted a world of hurt for himself when he finally got back to early-morning PT in Alexandria after this bout of sweet indulgence.
But it was so worth it.
Aida never once mentioned anything personal about the war again after the bobsled run, though it was never far from Jack’s mind, and there was a sadness descending on both of them, knowing that the day was nearly over. He hated the idea of leaving Sarajevo, in part because Aida’s love for it had now taken hold of him as well. But he hated the idea of leaving her even more.
Still, he had a job to do back home, and his goal of finding her and delivering his mother’s letter had been completed. Two more unplayed voice mails from Gerry told Jack it was time to push on.
They finished their coffee and baklava, but this time Jack insisted on paying the bill. The owners initially refused until a subtle nod from Aida completed the transaction.
They stepped outside into the setting sun, just as the melodic call to evening prayer echoed above them.
“I’m sorry if I bored you with too much history today, Jack. You Americans are fortunate because you always look toward the future.”
“Your history is fascinating. I wasn’t bored at all. I’m looking forward to coming back soon.”
“It’s too bad you’re leaving tomorrow. I wish we had more time together.”
Jack hadn’t expected that. “I’d like that, too. How about dinner?”
“I’m sorry, but I have much work to do tonight at the office. I still own the tour business, and tomorrow we have a new group of refugees coming to the center.”
“Can I come and see it tomorrow?”
“I thought you were leaving.”
“Let me check in with my boss and clear it with him.”
