THE TIDES OF TIME

- Chapter 4 -

Jovan's head hurt. He'd had hangovers in the past but this was not just a hangover. This felt like the Armageddon of all hangovers. It was not just his head that hurt. His eyes, his chest, and his arms and legs hurt as well. Somehow his chin felt as if it had been mauled by a wild beast. Whatever he did the night before, he knew for certain he would never ever want to repeat it. Ever.

"Never again..." Jovan mumbled to himself in the old Albanian dialect. He rubbed at his chin while attempting to rise but immediately gave up and plopped his head back on the pillow.

"I agree. You are far too heavy for Your own good. And far too heavy to carry." He heard a woman's soft Albanian voice coming from the other side of the kitchen.

"Bojana...?" Jovan cried out, sitting up so quickly that he swore. He had just seen all the stars in the high heavens explode right inside his head.

"Who did You expect? Is this not my hut?" the woman replied in a gentle yet precise way, in the old Albanian dialect.

Jovan called out again. "Bojana?" He rubbed his eyes, trying to figure out whether he was dreaming or was still too drunk to imagine anything else that could make sense to him.

The woman spoke again as she walked closer to Jovan. "A night of drinking is no excuse for ill manners, nor for doubting my words."

"What are You doing here?" asked Jovan as he rubbed his chest in disbelief.

The woman explained. "I see that Your nightly escapade brought on more than Your rusty head could handle. This is my hut, as I have already told You." Sitting down on the edge of the bed, she offered him a cup of water and raised her eyebrow as he narrowed his eyes.

"You are not Bojana," Jovan said quickly.

"I most certainly am Bojana. Bojana Galanis in flesh and bone and most certainly in good and hospitable spirit, lest You forget it." She pointed at him in a manner he knew all too well.

Jovana continued and said, "You are not my Bojana," as he studied the woman's face.

"Only time will tell that, my dear boy." Bojana's face softened as she held up the cup of water he had yet to accept.

"What happened to Your hair?" asked Jovan, debating whether or not he ask that question.

She answered, "What did happen to my hair?" as she ran her hand along the length of her silvery white braid.

Jovan pointed to her braid. "It's gray."

"No, it is silvery white. A man like You should remember to never point out or comment on a woman's age," Bojana replied as she thrust the cup of water into Jovan's hand.

"I'm sorry, ma'am." He apologized at once and immediately detected similarities between his grandmother and whoever it was he was speaking with.

"I would ask You to never again use that word around me. I may be experienced in my winters, but that is no reason to insult my age." Bojana narrowed her eyes, stood up from the bed, and walked to the other side of the kitchen to tend to the fire burning in the stone fireplace.

Jovan asked for forgiveness. "I am sorry, I really am."

"Apology accepted. Now, can You stand up? Or are You still too rusty and lightheaded for that rather challenging feat of strength?" Bojana smirked as she looked back at Jovan.

"I never said I was rusty. I am quite used to walking. I've done it since I was a child," Jovan answered but swore again the moment he attempted to stand up.

"That is a foul mouth You have there. If I were You, I would watch Your manners around me." Bojana walked back to him and brought a bowl of hot porridge.

After a moment of strenuous concentration, Jovan asked, "Did you carry me inside?"

"Heavens, no. You weigh as much as five mules. Anil helped me." Bojana answered and passed a bowl of porridge to him.

"Who is Anil?" Jovan asked.

"Anil is a very good young man. He is the son of a dear friend of mine. They moved here from their homeland when he was a young boy. He helps me whenever he can." Bojana smiled then, more to herself than to Jovan.

"Did he hit me? My jaw hurts all the way to the back of my neck?" Jovan asked as he rubbed his jaw and winced from the sharp thread of pain.

"Dear boy, Anil would not hit a fly that sat on his nose if his life depended on it. Not that he would be too blind to see it. He is simply not built that way," Bojana replied as she smiled.

"Then why does it feel like my face got scraped against a mile of asphalt?"

"What is asphalt?" Bojana asked.

Jovan asked, "What is what?"

"That "a" word? A... asphalt? Is that a wooden thing of sorts? Why would You want to scrape Your face against it?" Bojana asked, baffled.

"Asphalt is a kind of paved surface for the roads. I would definitely not want to scrape my face against it." Jovan answered then began to look around the kitchen.

Even more baffled, Bojan asked, "Why would anyone want to waste time to pave roads with... asphalt? Aren't rocks and dirt enough? "

Trying to make a joke, Jovan answered, "Rocks and dirt? What year is this? 1000 BC?" His humorous efforts fell far short of the mark.

In a purely judgmental tone of voice Jovan missed so much, Bojana answered," It is the year 1389 and Your humor is as dry as Your foul mouth."

"Bollocks!" Jovan replied, in English.

"What does that mean?" asked Bojana.

Reverting back to the old Albanian dialect, Jovan blinked twice and explained. "It means that I apparently hit my head too hard."

Bojana chuckled lightly. "I would agree and You did not just hit Your head, Jovan. You rammed Your jaw into my door as You fell on my doorstep and scared the rest of my dark hair away."

Narrowing his eyes at her again, Jovan asked, "How do You know me?"

"Who doesn't know You? Or rather, who won't know You. You are Jovan the Valiant. Your bravery and reputation precede You." She said in the same matter-of-fact tone that caused Jovan to blink twice... again.

Stupefied, Jovan exclaimed "Bollocks!" in English again.

"There is that word again. You will have to tell me what it really means. I am beginning to like it." Bojana smiled and took the empty bowl of porridge from Jovan.

"It refers to someone joking about their current circumstances." Since Bojana was totally unaware of the meaning of the word, Jovan wished he would have made it mean something more interesting.

"Thank You. I really like that word. I do believe that learning a thing or two a day keeps the mind sharp." Bojana's smile widened and reminded Jovan just how much he missed his grandmother.

"You must have learned quite a lot of things in Your life." Jovan laughed as the woman pointed his way.

"Watch it," she said quickly.

Jovan smirked and said, "Where are my manners? I'm really sorry."

"Bollocks!" she replied and they both laughed about it for quite a while...