Absolute Sunset (10 page)

One day she came running through the passages, but he didn’t answer the door. She could see light in the windows. As red as tomato soup. He was there. But he didn’t respond. Then, another day, she found a sweater on a hanger in Mariusz’s hall as she was leaving. She put her shoes on, straightened up, and noticed the sweater. A woman’s. A stranger’s. Not hers. It was too small to fit her. Fashionably shredded. Pink.

“What’s this?” she asked with icy tone. She practised it on Janusz.

“A sweater,” Mariusz replied from the other room. Sabina could see his buttocks. He was putting on his pants. His penis was dangling grotesquely between his thighs. A complete lack of elegance.

“Whose?” Sabina leaned against the doorpost. Mariusz threw the trousers back onto the chair and turned to her, having decided he would finish the conversation in just his underwear. It irritated Sabina. What a pig!

“No one’s. None of your business.”

“So it belongs to your whore?” Sabina could hear her teeth grinding.

“I told you, that’s none of your business.”

“It is, actually. You’re with me. I have a right to know. Answer me—whose is it?”

Mariusz slowly came closer and grabbed her by her chin. He moved his face close to Sabina’s face.

Just like in movies! There would be a passionate apology! Words of love! Yes! If he says it, she’ll leave Janusz for him, she’ll leave Janusz the flat, the children—he can fuck off. She’ll be with Mariusz, things will pan out somehow! She trembled with emotion.

“Darling, get lost!” Mariusz whispered straight into her mouth. “It’s not your business. You don’t have exclusive rights to me. I do whatever I want. I promised you nothing. If you don’t like it, feel free to leave. Nothing, apart from your own pussy, which is clearly unsatisfied, is keeping you here.” He pushed Sabina toward the front door. “Get lost, and don’t piss me off,” he growled and opened the door with a swing. “Out!”

He apologised to her two days later. He came to her, right to her flat. He brought vodka and flowers. They were quite fresh. They drank. Then they had sex in the living room. A good one. They were together again.

Hanka—A Blue Balloon

Hanka was happy. She didn’t have to spend the entire afternoons with the baby anymore, wandering around the estate with him. Didn’t have to avoid her friends, dressed in pleated skirts, licking calypso ice-creams and chattering like little birds. Sometimes they came up to her, took a quick peek at her brother, and burst into laughter. They’d say of both of them—Hanka and him—“such a big nose,” then flounce away. Their legs were pocked with mosquito bites. Good! Only Agata would accompany her as she shuttled from one end of the
Tysiąclecie
estate to the other. Sheer boredom!

Then she suddenly regained her longed-for freedom. Her mother finally started taking care of Bartek. She was calm. She was even nice! No: she wasn’t a pain in the ass anymore. She didn’t ask Hanka if her homework was done, only to beat her for her crooked letters or ugly pictures. She no longer kicked her for overlooking dust on the wardrobe. In fact, Sabina almost stopped beating Hanka altogether. A pinch or a jab from time to time—that was all. Luxury. She even drank less.

In the middle of this beatitude, without notice, the raven returned. He hadn’t visited Hanka for a long time. She thought he had disappeared for good. But he jumped coolly onto the headboard of her bed and peeked into her ears in search of dirt.

He took her to the beach. It was deserted, and the colours had been washed away. There were no striped windbreaks, no fish-printed umbrellas. Hanka had seen them on postcards, but she had never been to the seaside before.

“Look,” the raven pointed to the right with its beak. “Over there.”

Hanka took a look. In the distance she saw a sizeable flock of seagulls. The birds floated in the air above the surface of the water. From time to time they dove, then sat on the beach, only to soar into the air again after a moment of peace. They moved ceaselessly.

“What’s out there?” she asked the raven, slowly moving toward the throng of gulls.

“You’ll see,” the bird answered cryptically.

Hanka sped up. The sand was wet and had been packed hard by the water, so she was able to run quickly and she closed the distance to the birds bit by bit. She could make out their little legs, wings, heads. They no longer were points flying in the air. A few more steps and Hanka could see that the seagulls were playing with something. In the middle of the wheeling swarm, a balloon hovered. It looked like a person. Its colour was the shade of human skin. When she got a little closer, she could see that it was Bartek. Paralysed and quiet.

Seagulls tossed him up into the air. They caught him by his legs, or arms, or by the belly with their beaks and threw him even higher, tossing their heads powerfully from side to side. Fly! A beak poked into his back! Bartek flew! As soon as he began to settle back down toward the ground, more birds would rush in his direction and once again toss him upward.

Finally, the seagulls seemed to tire of the game. Bartek sank lower and lower, dangerously close to the waves, which seemed to Hanka to boil. Bands of sea foam, like shaggy snakes, glided over the greyish water.

More and more birds settled on the beach. They didn’t have the strength to continue to fight with balloon-like Bartek. A few remaining strays, still up in the air, struggled with the heavy child. Bartek touched water once, twice.

Suddenly a monster leapt up through the waves from under the water. A grub with a female face. The beast opened its mouth—huge, with gleaming red lipstick. Inside were two rows of teeth. When Bartek drifted down again, the monster slapped the water with its tail, surged high above the surface, and swallowed the boy. The seagulls flew clear.

“If you can’t fly, you fall.” The raven summed up the situation, and the dream came to an end.

Sabina—With A Lover

“Why do you look so terrible?” Mariusz asked, letting Sabina into the flat. He didn’t like what he saw. The hot August moments had passed for good. Late October had come upon the scene, along with capes, umbrellas dragged by the powerful winds, and a feeling of dark despair. Despite Sabina’s efforts, putting on her best spicy underwear, Mariusz was fussed around like a kindergarten kid on a sugar high.

“What’s up? Tell me,” he urged, and she suddenly wanted to give him a real wallop.

“I haven’t been sleeping very well lately,” she answered, starting to unbutton her coat. She glanced at Bartek. He lay, eyelids half-closed, breathing at intervals—when he wasn’t drawing breath he looked like a corpse. She flinched a little, entered the room, and carefully closed the door behind her.

“Is your husband interrupting your sleep?” Mariusz asked, mocking her and lighting a cigarette.

“No, I’m having nightmares.”

“Let me help you.” Mariusz lowered his trousers. He was ready, as usual. Sabina felt like hitting him.

She drew the curtains, but not all the way. She took her pants off. It was cold in the flat. She didn’t want to undress completely—she would probably freeze. It was enough for Mariusz. She leaned her hands against the windowsill. He approached her from behind. She felt his icy hands on her body. Her skirt being pulled up. A cool breeze on her thighs. Mariusz penetrated her without a word. Recently he hadn’t been talking much. Before... it had been different. Now and before. Perfect opposites.

Sabina bent down more firmly to make her lover’s task easier. Between the curtains she watched people hurrying through the housing estate, chased by the pouring rain. A ragged advertising leaflet appeared from nowhere, was lifted by the wind, then fell again to disappear behind a bush. Cars flashed in the distance, racing toward the city centre.

Sabina rocked along with Mariusz’s pumping. Her hair became charged with static from rubbing against the curtains. Mariusz was spluttering, like the dog hanging on a bitch. The smell of sweat was overwhelming and he seemed to go on and on. He dug his fingers into Sabina’s soft buttocks to speed things along, pulled her towards him. She a felt sudden pain and cried out. This just inflamed him more. The pumping sped up. Sabina wobbled, as if she were sitting on a whirling washing machine.

“Fuck!” her lover finally cried, and she felt a viscous gushing inside her. Finally.

Sabina sat in the waiting room. With Bartek. She was bored, passed the time looking over the people waiting with her. Every one of them wore plain clothes. Everyone looked down at the floor. From time to time they moved in their chairs—cautiously, so as not to make noise—shifting their weight to sit more comfortably. They coughed into their sleeves. “Quiet!” commanded a sign that hung above the door to the office of the lone doctor.

From time to time patients came out of the office. Some were pleased—just threw a quick “goodbye” and left. They rushed away, stomping loudly, and disappeared around the bend. Others went shuffling, crushed with whatever had happened on the other side of the closed door.

In the end it was Sabina’s turn to go in.

“Sabina Borowska!” someone called from inside.

Sabina got up, straightened her skirt, and entered the office. The raven sat at the desk. More accurately, he stood, his claws digging into the back of a chair. The white paint cracked, pricked by his claws, and the wood that showed through was pale. The bird moved from one side of the chair back to the other.
What the hell?
Sabina thought, and stopped at the threshold.

“Don’t stop, come in!” the raven yelled. “No time for a warm welcome in the doorway!”

“I’m sorry,” Sabina whispered and entered.

“The door! Close it!”

“I’m sorry,” Sabina said again, and closed the door.

“What’s going on?” the bird asked, jumping onto Bartek’s pram. “Oh, it’s serious I see.”

“I don’t understand...”

“He’s sick. He needs treatment. Urgently. Surname?”

“Borowski,” Sabina replied.

“Name?”

“Bartłomiej.”

“Age?”

“Nearly six months.”

“Symptoms? Apart from what I can see.”

“I don’t know. Apathy? Sleepiness?” The raven glanced at her with pity and a kind of disgust. She’d probably made a fool of herself.

“Take the baby out of the pram and undress it. Put it on the sofa,” the bird ordered, and flew to the desk. He began to dig around in some papers. Then he examined Bartek very precisely, probing him carefully. Sabina waited, holding her breath. The bird shook his head, looking at the child with his left eye and then with the right one.

“Dress him! No don’t!” He changed his mind, giving it thought.

Sabina put the romper and sweater into the pram, and laid naked Bartek on top of them. The boy opened his eyes. His pupils were jittered like drops of fat in a broth, stopping in the corners of his eyes. He was sleeping! Surely it’s just a dream!

“Let’s go to the treatment room!” the bird ordered, jumping behind the curtain in the corner. “Come on!” he urged and pecked the woman on the ankle. Sabina followed him. There was another room behind the green partition wall. Small one. A bathtub full of white, cloudy water stood in the middle.

“Put him into the bathtub. Let him soak for twenty minutes. Don’t take him out. Under no circumstances!” the raven instructed her, then perched on the windowsill.

Sabina did what he ordered. She put the boy into the water. It was very warm, almost hot. Kind of sticky, or oily. It wasn’t water after all, but some kind of suspension. The moment Bartek’s legs touched it, his eyes focused on his mother.

“Mum, no, please!” he said squeakily. Sabina, shocked, dropped him. Bartek disappeared under the surface.

“Drag him out, you moron, before he drowns!” the ugly bird shouted at her, flapping his wings.

“Sorry!” Sabina sobbed, and started searching for the baby in the dull liquid.
Where is he? Where?

She found him. She grabbed him by his greasy shoulder and pulled him out. Pustules covered her son’s body, large and white. Filled with serum. Bartek coughed once, then began to scream. Terribly loudly.

“What’s going on?” Sabina asked frantically. She was shaking. She was afraid that she would drop the baby again and this time wouldn’t find it in the dark pool.