Sakrijen Slavko (Hiding Slavko) (522 hits)
Category: NoneRating: 1.66 on 27 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by Lucinda Periac <lucindaperiac.at.hotmail.com> (View user info) at 2007-01-15 14:29:21 EST
"Man's life is cheap as beast's..." King Lear
Teta Mika began to wail "Oni dolazu!...Oni dolazu!" (they're coming...they're coming) from the veranda of her pink house on the hill. The inhabitants of the small bustling village of Polaca, which lay on the coast of Croatia, allowed the tension that had boiled beneath the surface of their quiet life to erupt, and they fled through the streets as the message diffused amongst them. The word had spread that the soldier's were ploughing their way through the country to recruit those who would submit to the power of their forces and join their ranks, and exacting retribution upon those who would not.
Down in the fields below Mika's house, a small boy stopped poking at the carcass of a bird with a stick and looked around for the source of the noise. It dawned on him that the thing his parents had been discussing after dark in muffled tones was about to happen and he looked over to locate his friend Slavko. Slavko was already making his way over to him, "Joso, do you hear it?" he yelled. Joso nodded his head, they looked at one another for a moment "Where can we go?" Joso asked, his voice wavering with uncertainty. Slavko searched the surrounding horizon. "That way, over by Ante's vineyard". Joso nodded in agreement and they began to run as fast as their nine year-old legs would move.
As they ran, their paths diverged and the two friends were separated. Slavko's legs were aching, the box on the horizon emerged as the barn that Slavko knew inside and out. As he closed in on the barn he searched the vicinity for any threatening figures and found nothing. The pounding in his ears eased a little. A silence settled around the building as he scanned the interior, checking all the nooks and crannies that were likely to attract the attention of the soldiers. In the far-left corner he spotted a hole in the floor, a more than adequate hiding place. He tentatively stepped toward it. He peered into the darkness of the fissure and saw that it was empty. He dived in and lay himself flat across the base. The pounding blood in his ears rose again and his heart began to race. It was commonly accepted that the soldiers would arrive sooner or later and Slavko began to prepare himself for the potential consequences.
Slavko began to relax a little and congratulate himself on finding his hiding place, when he heard a rustle. His breath quickened and fresh beads of sweat formed on his brow, he crossed himself muttering a prayer to the Virgin for protection. An arm descended into the hole and grabbed at the collar of his shirt. It tore and Slavko knew that his mother would be angry at having to replace such a good shirt. Before he knew what was happening he was being dragged from the hole and into the dusty light of the barn.
He smelt the freshness of the summer days, he tasted the salty water of the Adriatic sea. He saw his mother as she lent over him in his bed to awaken him gently each morning. He smelt the lavender in her hair, then he saw the menacing ugliness of the face staring straight into his eyes and cursing his impudence. He was thrust violently back into the present reality, and saw that he was being dragged from safety, he waited with bated breath to be massacred in the open air with his eyes screwed tightly shut.
It became obvious as long seconds passed and he realised he was still alive that the shooting he heard was just his heart. With trepidation he opened one eye to glimpse an ugly man diving into his hole. He didn't understand, and he didn't have time to think on it.
Panic set in again as Slavko realised that time had passed undeterred. The soldiers were bound to be approaching soon. He scanned the area for a new hiding hole. He heard the gruff voices of what could only be the soldiers and in the moment of terror that fell upon him, he dived behind a bale of hay. Slavko was so slight that the bale towered above him. He nestled into it, begging the Virgin that he would not be seen. The soldiers came into the barn, he watched from his hiding place. With his breath held he saw them approach the hole, still terrified that somebody might spot him.
Seconds passed by as hours. One of the soldiers pointed his pistol into the hole and fired. If he really fired the six shots that Slavko thought he heard or if it was just the echo of his relief mingled with the horror of realising that he might be next, he was never sure. The soldiers were speaking in a language that Slavko guessed to be German. All that he could gather from the voices he heard was a certain joviality and they walked out of the barn as casually as they had strolled in.
He was frozen to the spot, even though they had left the barn he could not be certain they wouldn't return. Their visit seemed too brief. He stayed behind the bale until twilight had set in, sending a rosy glow through the broken roof. Tentatively he stepped into the open air, ready to run. The barn was ominously still and quiet. His shaky legs carried him to the feeding hole and he peered inside. Old ugly face looked up at him, a mess of blood, bone and brains.
User Reviews
Submitted by JohnnyACDC (user info) at 2008-08-12 07:27:23 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1
No Comment
Submitted by UberSavedMyLife (user info) at 2007-01-15 16:55:02 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
You're wit astounds me.
Submitted by redskieslookfake (user info) at 2007-01-15 16:54:09 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Submitted by UberSavedMyLife (user info) at 2007-01-15 16:52:28 (#)
Ranking: 0
Ah yes the hair. Hence my reasoning for not giving in to my Grandmother's desire for me to marry our neighbour's son in the village...that monobrow...scary shit. (And yes I know grappa is Italian, but check out the history and Dalmatia was over run with Italians for years, so there is an element of Italian influence on Croatian/Dalmatian culture).
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They mate with DOGS??
No wonder they have monobrows
Submitted by UberSavedMyLife (user info) at 2007-01-15 16:52:28 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
Ah yes the hair. Hence my reasoning for not giving in to my Grandmother's desire for me to marry our neighbour's son in the village...that monobrow...scary shit. (And yes I know grappa is Italian, but check out the history and Dalmatia was over run with Italians for years, so there is an element of Italian influence on Croatian/Dalmatian culture).
Submitted by redskieslookfake (user info) at 2007-01-15 16:47:51 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Submitted by UberSavedMyLife (user info) at 2007-01-15 16:44:42 (#)
Ranking: 0
Got me there, but nonetheless, the Croatians prefer Grappa to Vodka. Its the land of hairy men, grappa puts hair on the chest...good job I'm not a fan of the stuff.
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Hairy one eye-browed men with fat hairy bellies and hairy tractors with a trailer full of hairy potatoes. Covered in hair.
Submitted by inion_de_trua (user info) at 2007-01-15 16:46:21 EST (#)
Ranking: 1
but grappa is italian...
DROPPING SUBJECT NOW.
Submitted by UberSavedMyLife (user info) at 2007-01-15 16:44:42 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
Got me there, but nonetheless, the Croatians prefer Grappa to Vodka. Its the land of hairy men, grappa puts hair on the chest...good job I'm not a fan of the stuff.
Submitted by inion_de_trua (user info) at 2007-01-15 16:42:26 EST (#)
Ranking: 1
Submitted by UberSavedMyLife (user info) at 2007-01-15 16:26:10 (#)
Ranking: 0
But of course. How else would we see him out??? Surely not with vodka. we're not russian.
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you do realize there is potato vodka right?
Submitted by UberSavedMyLife (user info) at 2007-01-15 16:41:47 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
Yeh got one of those, I love it. Potatoe heaven.
Submitted by redskieslookfake (user info) at 2007-01-15 16:40:22 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Potato blight. The bane of Croatia.
You can buy a house there for about £4000. A big house. And have all the potatoes you can eat.
Submitted by UberSavedMyLife (user info) at 2007-01-15 16:35:51 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
I'm not sure the Irish would agree after that 1845 fiasco.
Submitted by Orgasmatron (user info) at 2007-01-15 16:34:51 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
I'll probably be hiding some slavko of my own tonight.
IF YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN.
Submitted by redskieslookfake (user info) at 2007-01-15 16:33:48 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Potato. The Ultimate Tuber
Submitted by UberSavedMyLife (user info) at 2007-01-15 16:31:04 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
Hahahahahahaha. Ok you got me, I give up, I don't have the energy to respond.
Submitted by redskieslookfake (user info) at 2007-01-15 16:28:37 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
*sings drunken potato song*
mmmiissterr potatatataooooooooo
we love your brown skiiiiinnn
not like the meexiciin
who we do not recognise as kinnn
Croatia is the land of racist tractors!
OY!
Submitted by UberSavedMyLife (user info) at 2007-01-15 16:26:10 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
But of course. How else would we see him out??? Surely not with vodka. we're not russian.
Submitted by redskieslookfake (user info) at 2007-01-15 16:23:22 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
*nods*
Of course you did. I hope you drowned your sorrows with potato based alcohol drink.
Submitted by UberSavedMyLife (user info) at 2007-01-15 16:22:39 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
sounds about right. i lost my uncle to a tractor :(
Submitted by redskieslookfake (user info) at 2007-01-15 16:19:26 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Croatia is a land of tractors, potatoes and potato based liquer.
Hence all the potato farmers ran down by drunk tractor drivers. Number one cause of death.
Submitted by UberSavedMyLife (user info) at 2007-01-15 16:17:05 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
yep that's right. my knowledge is limited though. i know jebise...(i think that's how you spell fuck you) and i can order beer (jedan pivo molim)
Submitted by redskieslookfake (user info) at 2007-01-15 16:11:55 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
I learnt gross profanities too - but they seem to have fled my memory. I had more motivation to remember the other one.
lyepa tsura? Beautiful girl?
Submitted by UberSavedMyLife (user info) at 2007-01-15 16:09:02 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
Submitted by redskieslookfake (user info) at 2007-01-15 16:00:00 (#)
Ranking: 2
Ja voleem toya lyepa ochi.
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Translation for you all: You have beautiful eyes.
Hvala: Thankyou.
Dobro, iman dva. : Good, I have two.
Submitted by redskieslookfake (user info) at 2007-01-15 16:00:26 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
perhaps Dobro
Submitted by redskieslookfake (user info) at 2007-01-15 16:00:00 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Ja voleem toya lyepa ochi.
That's all I remember
Submitted by UberSavedMyLife (user info) at 2007-01-15 15:38:56 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
Whilst you are historically and politically speaking correct, the government sided with the nazis, but ask my grandparents and the citizens thought differently. i'll give you the point that i mention them speaking german in the story, that was fiction and historically inaccurate, my apologies.
Submitted by JonnyX (user info) at 2007-01-15 15:26:50 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Croatia sided with the Nazis in WW2.
Submitted by St_Jimmy (user info) at 2007-01-15 14:56:14 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Really, really good.