THE TIDES OF TIME

- Chapter 2 -

Standing on the shore of Lake Prespa, Jovan felt better than he had in days. Literally. This little piece of land was by far one of his favorite places in the world. The raw beauty of nature around him calmed his restlessness. The scenery, unchanged over the centuries, somehow forced him to slow down, pause, and appreciate the fact that his grandmother was still in his life.

He looked around. It felt as if the little town of Stenje and its inhabitants understood the significance of the town's history and its olden days. The people that lived around the lake knew that they did not have to bother to change to keep up with the modern world. Stenje and the surrounding region had its own soul and Jovan valued that. He felt it in his heart. He understood why his grandmother decided to move back to her family home.

Jovan sighed. The mid-November air filled his lungs and sharpened his mind. He looked down, picked up a rock, and considered its shape and weight before heaving it along the surface of the water. The rock skipped up and down seven times, guided by the precision and strength of Jovan's skilled fingers. He smiled then sighed heavily. Though his birthday had just passed, he did not feel older by a whole year. He only felt wiser by just a few days. As he narrowed his eyes and looked toward the mountain in the distance, he immediately wished he could stand closer to the mountain, to see a much sharper outline of it. Like he wished he could have seen a sharper and keener image of his best friend. He corrected himself immediately without blinking an eye. Goran Dimitris, the man he used to consider as his best friend, was anything but. He had turned out to be his worst enemy.

The man he trusted the most had almost cost him his life. He definitely cost him his career and that was something Jovan would never forget. One thing was certain though. There was no way he would ever trust a man who would ask him to betray his country, his superiors, or his own principles. Did he regret going with his gut instead of off the grid with Goran when his best friend asked him to do that? Not one lousy bit. Could he have predicted Goran would turn years of their friendship against him? Not one... lousy bit.

But... what was done was done. Time flowed like a river that would not reverse. No matter the cost. So, Jovan took it in stride that his superiors believed in the accusations of his best friend, his FORMER best friend, over his own word. He accepted the dishonorable discharge over being subjected to a public trial he knew would not prove much since his guilt was already assumed. He left his former life behind and came to visit his grandmother. He needed to clear his mind, figure out the next step. Even if his grandmother would not have told him what to do, she was the only person who believed in his innocence without question.

"One's inner thoughts often lay heaviest on the innocent heart, don't You think?" Jovan's grandmother asked in her soft voice as she stood beside him. She caught him off guard.

"You bet, grandmother," Jovan replied, as he calmed his quickened pulse.

"I would remind You not to use that word around me. I do have a name, and I am far too young to be called by my biological designation." Jovan's grandmother smiled as she picked up a rock and threw it along the surface of the water. The fact that the rock bounced up and down eight times before disappearing under the water impressed Jovan but did not surprise him.

"Where are my manners?" He smiled and embraced his grandmother.

"Exactly. I keep my wisdom highlights well maintained, and well hidden." She laughed and brushed her hand through her waist-length, dark brown perfectly colored hair.

"Haven't lost Your touch, Bojana." Jovan looked down at his grandmother, whose height was about half of his.

"Never. And I would remind You not to look down on me. I may be tiny but quick thinking has an upper hand over quick punches." She looked up and pointed at him.

He laughed and replied, "So does wit and a few solid pinches of a good sense of humor."

"And don't You forget it. Women go for that sort of thing." Bojana flashed a wide grin at her grandson.

"You had to go there, didn't You?" Jovan grinned as he looked back toward the lake.

"There are only a handful of things in life that someone has to do. Keep that in mind. I did not have to refer to Your lack of companionship. I wanted to do it. That's the difference." Bojana bent down and picked up two thin flat rocks and handed one to Jovan.

"Alright. What are we betting on this time?" asked Jovan, fully aware that his grandmother's favorite way to get all the information she wanted out of him was by throwing rocks against the water.

"This one's just for fun. You are rusty. Let's throw them together and see which one goes further." Bojana winked at her grandson and patted him hard on the back as he looked at her with narrowed eyes.

"I am NOT rusty. Just... out of practice." Jovan defended his prior failed attempts realizing she may have seen them, and tried to impress his grandmother.

"The brain isn't in the pocket, my dear child, but in Your head." Bojana cleverly pointed toward the side of her head as she spoke in an old Albanian dialect, one she had taught Jovan from a very young age. She smiled, closed her eyes, and waited. The moment she felt the gentle November breeze in the palm of her hand, she opened her eyes and they threw the rocks together. As Jovan expected, Bojana's rock bounced nine times on the surface of the water while his bounced six times. That did not surprise him this time either.

"Where force rules, justice does not exist. Right?" Jovan sighed and replied to Bojana in the same old Albanian dialect.

"True words, Jovan. True words. Remember them in Your time of need. The man that failed Your trust will come to realize he failed himself. He lost Your friendship, and will one day lose his own footing." Bojana nodded and patted his back.

"Do You ever speak in non-philosophical terms?" Jovan asked and grinned.

"Why bother? My experience and Our bloodline would not permit me to be anything but who I am," Bojana replied in the old Albanian dialect as she spread her arms wide and then crossed them at her chest.

"Yes, ma'am," Jovan replied and laughed the moment she shot him a warning look.

"Don't You ma'am me. Those so-called titles are reserved for..." Bojana cut her words short when Jovan looked her way.

"Experienced women. I understand completely. " Jovan laughed as he replied perfectly in the old Albanian dialect and picked up another rock. He threw the rock up in the air and waited until it landed back in his hand.

"Youth these days. You hold little respect for the elders," Bojana replied, pretending to be sulking.

"Did You just call Yourself an elder?" Jovan smirked at his grandmother.

"Unfortunately. Seeing You made me do it. I have a soft spot for my favorite grandson." Bojana smiled as she looked up at Jovan.

"I am Your only grandson." Jovan pointed her way, tossed the rock up in the air again then caught it in his hand. He threw it across the lake, satisfied that it matched Bojana's bounce count of nine.

"Ah, Jovan, lest we forget it," Bojana replied then sighed and grew undetectably sadder...