Nothing in the World by Roy Kesey Read Free Book Online Page A

lie, but it was all
     I could think of.
    - So they aren’t going to take you away?
    - Yes, they are.
    - But if you didn’t—
    - I admitted everything yesterday.
    - Why?
    The soldier closed his eyes and folded his arms across his chest.
    - You’ll find out when they take you to 105.

7.
    T he man with the injured hand was named Kunić, and the other man was named Gusterica. Gusterica lay on his bed and refused to eat, so Joško
     and Kunić split his food and water. Again Joško watched the skewed rectangle slide up the wall, become a square, and fade.
    There were more shouts, a shriek, more footsteps, and standing at the door were Magarac and the two guards. Kunić backed into the corner of the
     cell. Gusterica didn’t even open his eyes.
    A guard opened the door, and Magarac stepped inside. His right arm was in a cast, and there were fresh white bandages on his nose and forehead. He told
     Joško to stand in the center of the cell, and not to move. Joško did as he was told, and Magarac nodded.
    - Now you’re going to tell me your name, your rank, and what you were doing by that stream instead of fighting the Serbs with the rest of your
     squad.
    - My name is Joško.
    - Joško what?
    - Joško Banović.
    Magarac smiled, then laughed, a tremendous braying that echoed down the cellblock.
    - Ah. So you’re the famous Joško Banović, the man who shot down two jets over Šibenik, who left the head of that Muslim sniper on
     a cafe table in Split.
    Joško thought about bringing out the earring as proof, but of course if he did the guards would take it.
    - I’m not sure it was Hadžihafizbegović, but—
    - Brother, I’m going to give you one more chance. Who are you?
    - Joško Banović.
    - Of course you are. And I’m Marshall Tito.
    Magarac smiled again, and drove his cast into Joško’s groin.
    - Let’s try something else. Why don’t you tell me why you deserted your squad.
    Joško tried to answer, but no words came out.
    - There’s no hurry. Consider your answer carefully.
    - It was a special mission. The planes came and killed them all, and now my sister—
    Magarac hurled him into the wall.
    - Are you making fun of me?
    - No, I know, but she—
    The man smacked him into the wall again.
    - You’re aware, right, that the war isn’t going very well? That whole towns are being slaughtered? And do you know why? Because cowards
     like you are abandoning their posts. Now tell me the truth, or so help me—
    - I did. The—
    Magarac threw him to the floor.
    - Fuck you and your God both.
    Joško rose to his knees and looked up.
    - And may my God fuck you back.
    Magarac began kicking him, his boots thudding into Joško’s stomach and chest. Joško clawed his way under the bed, and the two guards
     stepped in and pulled Magarac back to the door.
    - I’ll see you in Room 105, he said.
    He wiped the sweat from his chin, and looked over at Kunić still huddled in the corner.
    - And you’ll be seeing me early tomorrow morning.
    When the men were gone, Kunić came to Joško, helped him up and onto his bed.
    - Your head’s a mess.
    - Yes.
    - Seriously. You need to get it looked at.
    - I know. Thanks.
    Kunić hesitated.
    - Are you really Joško Banović?
    - Yes.
    - Wow. I heard the guards talking about you yesterday—you were in the newspapers and everything.
    Joško didn’t reply. For a time Kunić stared at his bandaged hand. Then he walked to the corner of the cell, knelt on the floor, and
     rocked gently back and forth.
    Joško didn’t sleep much that night. Kunić stayed in the corner working through the rosary prayers, and Gusterica came over twice to
     fiddle with Joško’s belt clasp. At last a thin light slipped in through the window. The guards came walking down the hall. One of them
     opened the door to the cell and drew his pistol. The other lifted Kunić to his feet.
    * * *
    Magarac stopped by that evening to tell Joško that he had until the end of the week to think about what it meant to desert his squad,