The novel ‘A Woman between Two Men’, with an Albanian-American Theme, is authored by Carrie Hooper and Skifter Këllici
While Jack and Mary were talking, a bald, beetle-browed man, dressed in a light summer sweater, which exposed his muscular body, to all appearances carefree, stood behind them and listened to their conversation. He fixed his gaze on the gold necklace that glittered in Mary’s hand, and his eyes burned with envy.
At a counter on the opposite side of the shop, Nik, hidden behind a customer, not only listened to Jack and Mary’s conversation, but also watched the bald beetle-browed man.
“Thank you again, Jack. Bye-bye,” said Mary. After she put the necklace in its felt box, she carefully put it in her bag and headed for the door.
“Bye, Mary,” said Jack. “If you need anything else, I’ll be happy to help you.”
Jack followed Mary to the door and added, “I would also like for you and Wilma to come here.”
“Wilma would have come with me. We are spending the weekend at a hotel. But she had to wait for her husband. He had to work late. He will come in an hour.”
“Ah, Ralph the famous San Diego police chief! An extraordinary man. Please give him my regards.”
Although she did not like the shop owner’s compliments and could hardly wait to get out of there, Mary shook her head with approval and waved to Jack again on her way out.
Nik had gone to the silver shop with the intention of meeting Mary by chance. That would have been completely natural. But Mary’s long conversation with Jack had ruined Nik’s plan.
Mary walked down the sidewalk on the same side of the street as the shop. She made her way through the crowds of people who came and went. Nik noticed that the bald man had also come out of the shop and followed her. Who was he? An acquaintance who, like him, wanted to meet Mary by chance? But when he recalled the man’s envious eyes, which had fallen on Mary’s necklace, he suspected something else. Thus, in order to see what might happen, Nik continued to follow the bald man. Suddenly, a little way off, an old man slipped and bumped his head on an electrical pole. Some passersby rushed over to help him. Urged on by the thought that she, more than anyone else, could help the old man, since she was a nurse, Mary approached him. She noticed he only had a scratch on his forehead. The bald man also walked over to Mary and the old man. When other curious passersby approached and created unintended chaos, the bald man headed straight for Mary. Without anyone seeing him, he pulled a pair of scissors out of the inside pocket of his sweater and when, as occurs in such cases, the passersby crowded around to see what had happened, he cut the straps of the small bag Mary held tightly in her hand. He put the bag under his shirt, and, in order not to be seen, started to walk away slowly.
Although Nik had blended in with the crowd, he saw everything the bald man did. Now, to everyone’s astonishment, he had run off. Mary, when she realized what had happened, cried, “Help! Someone took my bag!”
“Who?” asked one of the crowd.
When she spied the man, whom she had seen in passing at the silver shop, running and turning his head once in a while, Mary rushed toward him and was astonished to see a young man with long hair and a beard. He ran ahead of her and followed the robber. When the bearded, long-haired youth caught up with him, he threw himself on top of him and grabbed him behind his shoulders. The two of them rolled and fought in the grass of the park. The young man ended up on the ground. Then, the robber got up and with his right hand, he pulled a knife from his belt. Mary let out a bloodcurdling scream that echoed for miles. The unknown young man, who was none other than Nik, turned his head toward the sound and was surprised to see Mary with her hands clenched into fists on her heaving chest. Taking advantage of Nik’s surprise, the robber rushed toward Mary to stab her. At that moment, Mary saw Nik grab the robber’s wrist. Nik and the robber fell again, rolled on the ground, and continued their struggle. For a moment, the robber was on top of Nik, and the blade of his knife touched Nik’s throat. Mary was wide-eyed with fright. She did not know what to do. Nik grabbed the robber’s wrist even harder, but the robber still managed to stab his left arm. He cried out a little but still managed to hold onto the robber’s wrist hard enough so the knife fell from his hand.
Then, the robber, disarmed and with eyes that shone with fear, rose, retreated, took Mary’s bag out from under his shirt, threw it on the ground, ran off, and disappeared into the forest.
Nik picked up the bag and handed it to Mary. He wanted to follow the robber, but Mary extended her trembling hands to Nik and motioned for him to stop, catching him off guard.
“Please let him go,” she managed to say. Her face looked like a lemon. “He may have another weapon and if, God forbid, he should attack you ”’?”
“He didn’t know me,” Nik said to himself.
Mary walked over to him. “Thank you very much, Sir,” she said, her eyes sparkling. “You risked your life for a bag.”
Mary saw that Nik had a sweet face, but his unshaven beard, thick mustaches, fiery eyes, and knitted brows made him look rough. She would not have been surprised if the robber had been this young man and not the other one, who, to her amazement, appeared to have hair.
“What do I owe you for this act of kindness?” asked Mary. “I don’t have much money with me.”
From the way she looked at him, Nik got the impression that Mary thought he acted as he did for money.
“Nothing,” Nik replied. “After I saw that jerk take your bag with your precious necklace, I knew I had to help you.”
“By the way, what were you doing in the shop?”
“It just happened,” Nik lied, surprised by her question.
“I was terrified when the robber pulled out the knife,” said Mary, who by now had pretty much regained her composure. “He could have stabbed you in the heart. How awful that would have been! Your face looked angry.”
She put her hand to her mouth as if to imply she had made an unforgivable mistake by using the word “angry”, but she relaxed when he smiled.
“Unfortunately, the truth is, I get that way a lot when I lose control,” said Nik.
He regretted that he had been so open with her. Mary looked at him with tenderness. But her face became more subdued when she noticed a few drops of blood on his torn shirt sleeve.
“The robber got you in the arm!” she practically shouted. “Let me take care of it.”
“She still doesn’t recognize me,” Nik said to himself again.
Mary helped Nik take off his shirt, took a pack of cotton, a small tube of pomade, and a box of adhesive tape from her bag, and tended to the wound on Nik’s left arm.
“I am a trauma nurse at a hospital. I usually carry a few medical supplies with me,” she explained.
Then, she gently touched Nik’s arm and looked closely at his wound.
“Fortunately, it was not a deep cut.”
“That’s a good thing, Miss Davenport.”
“How do you know my name?” she asked, looking at him with her blue eyes which shone dimly.
“Don’t you remember the person who, two months ago, brought an older man with a broken leg to the hospital?”
Mary wrinkled her forehead and fluttered her eyelids.
“Oh, you’re Kreshnik! Or as they call you …”
She closed her eyes in an attempt to remember his nickname.
“Nik,” he said.
“Yes, Nik,” Mary said, giving him an even heartier handshake.
“At the hospital, you told me you are from Albania, a small country in the Balkans. At that time, I wanted to ask you about the origin of the name Kreshnik. Is it an Albanian name?”
“Yes. The powerful, handsome giants in Albanian epic poems were named Kreshnik.”
“You look just like one of them!”
“Oh, no,” laughed Kreshnik, even though her words excited him. “Among other things, those giants were exceptionally brave men who fought the enemies of the homeland.”
“I think you would do that.”
“I think so, too,” Kreshnik admitted.
Mary continued to fix her gaze on him.
“How you’ve changed since I saw you three months ago! With that beard and that mustache … No wonder I didn’t recognize you. I’m trying to remember your last name.”
She squinted.
“Oh, yes, Germeni. Kreshnik Germeni, right?”
Kreshnik nodded.
“How is your father now? Is he walking all right?”
“Yes, but he, James Clemens, is not my father. My father passed away here in America when I was ten. But James is like a father to me because he raised me.”
“Oh, I’m sorry I bothered you.”
“I’m sorry, too, because one afternoon at the hospital, I did not behave well.”
Kreshnik shook his head bitterly.
“It wasn’t your fault because at that time, the doctors on call were watching the end of an important soccer game,” said Mary.
“Still, Miss Davenport, even though I spoke harshly, you were willing to help me since the doctors had not come. I am terribly sorry for what I said.”
“Why do you feel the need to bring up that incident now?” Mary asked.
“Because I know I made a bad impression on everybody,” Kreshnik replied.
“It’s over and done with. Besides, after a couple of days, you came and apologized to me.”
“And you remember that?!” (Continues)
Click here for Part-1, Part-2, Part-3, Part-4,
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About the Authors
Carrie Hooper was born and raised in Elmira, New York. She has been blind since birth. She received a B.A. in vocal performance from Mansfield University, Mansfield, Pennsylvania. She went on to receive an M.A. in German and an M.A. in vocal performance from the State University of New York at Buffalo. After completing her studies, she spent a year at the Royal University College of Music in Stockholm, Sweden as a Fulbright scholar. Carrie currently lives in Elmira, New York. She taught German, Italian, and Romanian at Elmira College. She has a passion for foreign languages and in addition to the languages mentioned above, she is also proficient in Swedish, Spanish, and Albanian. Music also plays an important role in Carrie’s life. She teaches voice and piano lessons, gives vocal concerts, plays the piano and organ at a church, and sings in a community chorus. Carrie not only loves music and languages, but also enjoys poetry. She has published three books: “Piktura në fjalë” (“Word Paintings”), a bilingual collection of poetry (Albanian-English), “My Life in My Words”, and “Away from Home.” She has also translated texts from Albanian and Romanian to English.
Skifter Këllici was born in Tirana, Albania and received a diploma in history and literature from the University of Tirana. He worked as a journalist, scholar, and sportscaster on radio and television. He is the author of several novels and nonfiction books, including the children’s books, “Memories of the Old Neighborhood” and “In the Footsteps” as well as the historical novels, “Assassination in Paris”, “The Murderer with the White Hands”, and “September Disaster.” He wrote the screenplay for “In the Footsteps” which won a special prize at the International Children’s Film Festival in Giffoni, Italy in 1979. He has lived in Boston, Massachusetts since 1999.
[The book ‘Disastrous September is being reproduced in episodes with the consent of the author]
