76
ŞAPTE ZECI ŞI ŞA SE
he street battles raged on. If victory and freedom were ours, why did the violence continue? Was Mama right? Would we all beT punished?
Mama had ordered me to come home. Instead, I made my way back to Colţea Hospital.
The hospital pulsed with rumors and desperation. Kents—they were my only hope to find Luca. I pushed my way up to an orderly. His uniform was painted with blood.
“Please. A young man, Luca Oprea, was shot last night. He was in the critical care unit earlier. Two packs of Kents if you can tell me where he is now.”
The orderly looked over his shoulder. “What’s the name?” he
whispered.
“Luca Oprea.”
“You’re family?”
I nodded.
“Wait over there.”
Children. Teens. Adults. Old people. They walked, ran, crawled, or were carried into the hive of chaos at the hospital. Now that Ceauşescu was gone, who were we really fighting?
The orderly finally reappeared. “Second floor ward. Stairs are at the end of the hall.”
We exchanged the Kents in plain view and I headed for the staircase.
Each step sucked breath and energy from my diminishing reserve.
Colţea Hospital was the size of a small city. What if I couldn’t find Luca? What if they threw me out? A nurse yelled down the stairwell to no one I could see, “Catch the truck before it leaves for the morgue!”
I exited the stairs on the second floor, deciding which way to go.
She saw me before I saw her. Her long legs cycled toward me, hair swinging behind her like a silky, black horse tail.
“Pui!”
Cici.
Alarm bells and caution flags flickered through my brain. My sister was waiting for me. My own sister was going to turn me in.
“Oh, thank god, Pui. I knew if I found Luca I would find you.”
“Get out of my way.”
“No, listen, Pui. You have to listen.”
“I don’t have to do anything.”
“I’m sorry! I never meant for this to happen. I can help.”
“You want to help? Then help me rescue Liliana. They’ve got her locked up at a detention center on Aaron Florian. Find Alex or go there yourself. Hurry!”
“It’s probably safer here. And we need to talk.”
“There’s nothing to say. If you want to help me, go save Liliana, now!
Do you hear me? It’s going to take a huge bribe to get her out. Use some of your dirty money.”
Cici began to cry, “Pui, please wait. Please . . . it’s safer here.”
“Go!”
I left my sister standing in the hallway, crying and begging. The image and sounds still live like ghosts in my mind.
I reached the ward. Dozens of beds rowed tightly together, side by side. I saw Luca’s father. And then I saw him.
Luca.
Eyes closed, head against the pillow, connected to all sorts of bags and tubes. I couldn’t get there fast enough.
“Cristian, you’re alive!” said his mother.
So was Luca. The enormity of it all surged through me and a rush of tears began to flow. Brave Luca, who jumped up to grab me, who risked his life to save mine.
I swiped at my tears. “Will he be okay?” I asked.
“He lost a lot of blood. The doctor says the next twenty-four hours will be critical.”
I moved toward Luca and my eyes pulled to the pad of bandages on his left shoulder. Layers of gauze created a bulky knob. And then I realized that the branch—his arm—it was missing. I stepped closer and his father pulled me aside.
“He doesn’t know yet. He’s sedated. At this point, we just want him to
pull through.”
I nodded slowly.
It was my fault. Luca jumped up to reach for me, to save me. Because of that, he’d lost his arm. He’d lost his path to medicine. And now he could lose his life. Families and so much destroyed. What was the cost of freedom?
“Cristian, the girls are alone. Could you go to the apartment and stay with them until one of us comes home?”
I looked at them. I couldn’t. No. I needed to help Liliana. “My sister was here. Maybe she could—”
“No,” said his mother quickly. “We’d prefer if it was you. The girls know you. Please, just until we get home.”
“But . . . my friends . . .”
“Please, Cristian. This will help us. This will help Luca.”
I nodded blankly. We were amidst a revolution, my friends needed help. The Secu was probably looking for me. And suddenly I felt so sleepy and woozy. Would Cici help Liliana? But if Cici went to Aaron Florian, would that create a trail of breadcrumbs—straight back to me?