the story continues

Day Two
(didn't read the first installment? click here )

After driving what seemed hours and hours, at six-thirty five, Scott exited from the highway and pulled around behind a boarded up store. He pointed the car in what he thought was east and parked. It had taken him much longer to cover the ground because of the line in Novi-Sad, they were still short on bridges across the Danube from the ‘99 war. He checked to make sure there were no others signs of life nearby, leaned the seat back, covered up with a blanket that was in the back seat, turned off the engine and immediately went to sleep.
The sun was shining in his eyes and woke him up. He looked at his watch: 8:45. He checked the phone for an SMS. He reached in his bag and pulled out the auto adapter, plugging it into the cigarette lighter. Chilled, he started the car. The phone came to life as soon as it was plugged in, there were two SMS messages, one from the phone company welcoming him to their territory and telling him how to make a roaming call. The other was from ‘withheld’ again. It was sent at eight o’clock.
‘Go to Beograd, find rd to Pancevo, in P. turn rt, go to Kovin. If stopped, tell them you delvr. med supply to refuges, in boot. In Kvn, ask for ref camp. GBU, - Marton’
It always took him a couple of minutes to figure out the SMS shorthand. He got out, stretched, and wished for coffee. Got in the car and drove toward city. Hunger reminded him that he had eaten early the day before and he looked for a café bar in the city. Just after turning on the road to Pancevo he found what he was looking for. He parked the car up the street from a café-bar and went to get coffee and, he hoped, some food. But before he went in he realized he had no Dinars. He looked around and wondered if any ATMs still worked here since the uproar. He saw a sign two blocks down that had BANC in roman letters. He walked toward it hoping to either use a machine or make an exchange. The streets were busy. Many women wore scarves, especially the older ones, as one would expect in an orthodox community. Some of the men wore hats like he had seen in Ukraine in winter. Seeing the hats made him think of his friends in Kyiv, he said a prayer for them. Suddenly he realized he should get out his prayer book and read today’s scriptures. At the bank, there was no ATM he went inside. He asked the woman inside if there was a cash machine nearby. She replied “In Beograd today it is impossible, three months ago, okay, now it is impossible, I change money if you want.”
“Can you change Forints?” he asked
“No Forints, only Dollar or Euro, you have dollars?”
He didn’t want to part with his dollars so soon but decided his hunger was at work on him so he changed $100 into Dinars and headed back to the car. At the car, he grabbed his prayer book and headed for the café. It was very cold but he remembered what Marton had told him about the stocking cap and left it in his pocket. There was a steady breeze that made it feel even colder. Inside the café he was pleased to find not only coffee but cappuccino and there were even pastries, which surprised him since it was now ten-thirty. Because it was fairly dark he chose a table near the window, sat down, thanked God and began to read and enjoy his breakfast. He was the only person in the café and was glad of it. He purposely meditated on Psalm 46 from the old King James: “God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble. Therefore will not we fear, though the earth be removed, and though the mountains be carried into the midst of the sea; Though the waters thereof roar and be troubled, though the mountains shake with the swelling thereof. Selah.”
About twenty minutes passed and he noticed a commotion outside, a military convoy was passing through and it seemed everyone within walking distance was on the street some watching, a few clapping as the military vehicles passed through into the main part of the capital. He paid and stepped outside. Looking up the street toward the car, he noticed that there were four police peering into the windows. One was talking into a radio; it looked like he was reading the license tag. Another was on a cell phone talking to a boy who was pointing down the street at Scott.
Scott froze, he didn’t know quite what to do, of course doing nothing is doing something and in this case standing dumbfounded was better that taking off. One of the police began walking at a rapid pace toward him so Scott just stood there. When he was closer the policeman said something to him in slightly raised voice but not quite a yell. Of course Scott had no idea what he was being asked so he just walked toward him. When he saw this, the policeman slowed down and said something else to him. Scott walked up to him and said, “Serb nyet, A-meri-kan, do you speak English?”
“I speak only small, why you here?” was the abrupt reply which was followed with a question, “you car?” pointing to the Kia.
“Yes, er… da”
“You come,” motioning for Scott to walk to the car “why you here, Beograd?”
“I am taking medicine to refugees in, er…” He had forgotten the name of the next town. “I have paper in the car.” He drew a paper in the air and made a writing motion on it with his finger.” The police didn’t stop him but didn’t quite seem to understand either. Scott sat down in the passenger seat and got his passport, international driver’s license and registration and handed them to the officer. He looked at the passport, then to Scott, then back to the passport, back to Scott and then began looking through the passport at the different stamps and visas. The other three just looked on; one of them was still holding his mobile phone to his ear. Across the street a crowd was gathering. The boy that pointed to Scott and the bank teller were in the front of the crowd. One of the police walked over to her and began to talk. She pointed up the street to the bank and then to the car and to the café. He left her and walked to the café. They took his papers and walked to one of the two police cars and began to radio the information in. Scott took out his mobile to check the SMS for the name of the town he was supposed to deliver the medicines to. Suddenly, he realized, he didn’t know for sure what was in the trunk. The cop who went to the café came back and said something to the one standing there, Scott thought he shrugged and shook his head. When the policeman saw him with the mobile, he yelled something in Serb and grabbed the phone. They grabbed the keys and opened the trunk. Scott began to pray.

part three