I Must Betray You(62)

The sound system crackled and a man’s voice filled the square.

“We’ve done it! Victory is ours! Please, do not be afraid. Have courage. Nothing can stop us now. Nothing can stop us!” He repeated his words over and over until the crowd began to sing.

Ole, Ole, Ole, Ole, Ceau?escu nu mai e.

Ceau?escu no more? Could it be true?

I felt a brief wave of joy until I realized.

Bunu. Luca. Liliana. They’d sacrificed so much.

And they had all missed it.

I left the square and began to limp.

I had to find a pay phone—I had to save Liliana.





75


    ?APTEZECI ?I CINCI




Elation. Exhaustion. Determination.

Looting began. Fighting and violence surged in the streets. Ceasescu had fled, but his henchmen weren’t backing down. “Teams of terrorists are assisting the Secu assassins!” someone yelled.

But it was all in the background. I had to help Liliana.

The inside of the phone booth was streaked with blood.

I wiped the drops of perspiration from my face, deposited the coins, and dialed.

“Alo?”

I paused. My mother’s voice cracked a whip of reality.

“Alo? Who is this?”

“Mama, it’s me,” I finally croaked.

“Cristi! Where are you? Are you okay?”

“I’m okay. Mama, listen. Luca is at Col?ea Hospital. Please find his parents and tell them. Liliana is being held in a detention facility on Aaron Florian. She’s in terrible danger. Have Cici find Alex and bribe the—”

“Cici? Isn’t Cici with you?”

“No, Mama. If Cici’s not home, please, go across the street to Luca’s and Liliana’s. Go quickly!”

An explosion detonated, shaking the phone booth.

Mama’s voice went tight, shrill. She spoke each word slowly. “Where . . . is . . . Cici?”

“I don’t know. Did you hear me, Mama? Luca’s at Col?ea Hospital and Liliana’s in danger at a facility on Aaron Florian. Please, Mama. You have to send help to Liliana. Did you hear me?”

“Yes. And now you hear me. Come home this instant. Is that clear? Your father has been out all night, risking his life to find you both. This is not a movie. They’re killing people. And the protesters, they’ll all be punished. How can you do this to me? How can you do this to our family?”

“No! The military has turned. Ceau?escu’s gone! We’ve won, Mama.”

“No, Cristian. You’re wrong. There is no ‘winning.’ Come home. Immediately.”

And then she hung up.

I stood in the blood-spattered phone box, looking at the corded handset. What did Mama mean? Did she know something I didn’t?

Fists pounded on the glass of the phone booth. “If you’re done, leave!”

I stepped out, suddenly feeling warm and woozy. Was it the pain meds?

A helicopter buzzed overhead and small blue particles began descending from the sky.

“What are those?” shrieked a girl in line for the phone. “Are they explosives?”

Pieces of paper floated and fluttered down like snow, magically settling on the pavement.

I grabbed one of the blue squares. “It’s a message.” I looked at the words and could barely breathe.

    Romani, nu v? fie fric?. Ve?i fi liberi!



I stared at the sentences, trying to swallow through the emotion.

“What does it say?” she asked.

“It says, ‘Romanians: Do not be afraid. You will be free.’?”

Free.

We would be . . . free.





76


    ?APTEZECI ?I ?ASE




The street battles raged on. If victory and freedom were ours, why did the violence continue? Was Mama right? Would we all be punished?

Mama had ordered me to come home. Instead, I made my way back to Col?ea 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 Ceau?escu 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.

Col?ea 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.