Free Sworn Virgin by Elvira Dones

stared at her. She looked like a mole: brightly colored hair that failed to lighten her washed-out features, a rodent’s jaw, foreign clothes. Rumor had it that her long-dead husband had been a diplomat. Hana had been warned by her classmates to watch out for this secretary. If she took against you it was bad news. She was a Party member and sometimes even raised her voice with Faculty members.
    â€˜He’s my father,’ Hana insisted, as she left the office.
    â€˜Two days. You have two days’ official absence and that’s it,’ the woman shouted after her.
    The soldiers on the other side of the wall are marching. Aunt Katrina came down to the city wearing national dress. They’re the best clothes she has. Decked out like this, she looks unreal.
    Here in the city she seems less shy, she sits close to her husband and is not ashamed to touch him in public. Every now and then she lets out little shrieks of curiosity, breaking the silence. Uncle Gjergj is not unhappy to see his wife smiling.
    â€˜How do you not get lost here all alone, my love?’ Katrina asks her over and over. ‘All these people.’
    Hana laughs. She holds Uncle Gjergj’s hand tight. He looks so handsome today he could ‌ be in a Marubi portrait. 7 There are no signs of the disease on his face. Around his neck there is a red scarf, and he is wearing his dark-blue suit with a white shirt and a qeleshe on his head. He doesn’t cough, he’s not in pain, he doesn’t ask any questions. He basks in the sun and lets Hana hold his hand.
    Later, the doctors examine him, exchanging perplexed glances.
    â€˜We must operate,’ they say. ‘There’s no time to waste.’
    They take Hana into another room.
    â€˜Are you over eighteen?’ one of them asks her.
    â€˜I’m a freshman here at the university. I just turned nineteen.’
    â€˜And you don’t have any brothers or sisters?’
    â€˜No, it’s just me.’
    â€˜What’s your name?’
    â€˜Hana.’
    â€˜Listen, Hëna—’
    â€˜It’s Hana, not Hëna.’
    She loved her name. She loved the soft sound of the ‘a’in the middle. Here in the south the vowel was more closed: Hëna.
    â€˜Hana sunshine,’ her mother used to call her. She remembered her mother years back, when Hana was a little girl. She used to sing. If her mother hadn’t been born in the mountains she would have been a singer.
    Hana sunshine.
    â€˜You need to make a decision, young lady,’ persisted the doctor who seemed to be the most senior. ‘The sooner we perform surgery on your uncle, the better.’
    â€˜He’s my father. Is there hope, Comrade Doctor?’
    â€˜We don’t know yet.’
    â€˜Will he be in a lot of pain?’
    â€˜He’ll be in more if he doesn’t have the operation.’
    â€˜But there is hope; there must be hope!’
    The doctors look at each other.
    â€˜There are no guarantees. But we’ll do what we can. If we manage to remove the whole tumor he could make it.’
    â€˜Did you tell him there was a chance? The doctors in Scutari said there was no hope, and now he’s convinced it’s true.’
    â€˜Up there they don’t know how to perform such a delicate operation.’
    â€˜What are our chances, Comrade Doctor?’
    â€˜Maybe thirty percent. Even if we can’t eradicate the tumor, he’ll still live longer.’
    â€˜How much longer?’
    â€˜Up to a year, maybe. Or more. Or less. Go and talk to your uncle. He doesn’t want the surgery. You have to persuade him.’
    â€˜He’s my father. I told you, he’s my father.’
    The hotel Hana has found for Gjergj and Katrina is modest but clean. The restaurant only serves rice and spinach.
    â€˜I thought it was only us up in the north who were poor,’ Uncle Gjergj comments. ‘But it looks like people in the city are not doing