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Authors: Wieslaw Mysliwski

Tags: #Fiction, #Literary, #Historical

Stone Upon Stone (68 page)

BOOK: Stone Upon Stone
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“Some folks have suggested the Woźniaks,” I said. “But I was thinking of Chmiel.”

“Go with Chmiel,” he said abruptly. “The Woźniaks are bunglers.”

I knew they were bunglers, I only mentioned them so he’d recommend Chmiel. Because I wanted it to look like I was choosing Chmiel on his say-so, so maybe he’d charge me less for the plot. But he didn’t charge anything at all. When I asked him, so how much will that be, father? he just waved his hand.

“I hope that there at least you’ll be able to lie at peace. It won’t be anything.”

Truth was, I’d already gotten Chmiel to agree to do it. Right after I got back from the hospital, straight from the bus I went to see him. He lived just beyond the bus stop, so I thought to myself, I’ll swing by and find out now what I’m going to need for a tomb like that, and if he’d do it, and when. There was no sense putting it off, you put it off once and twice and after that it never gets done. But Chmiel was out. Only his missus was there.

“Goodness me, you’re back!” She seemed genuinely pleased to see me. “He’s gone to see his brother in Boleszyce. Why do you want to have a tomb built though? You’re not so old. Are you sick maybe?”

“No, I’m not sick. Tell him I’ll come on Sunday. Do you know how things are looking at my place?”

“Have you not been there?”

“I came here directly from the bus, I thought I’d swing by, talk to him on the way.”

“Well you can imagine, you’ll see for yourself in a minute.”

“How’s Michał?”

“Oh, I saw him by here one time, would have been a month or so ago, he was standing outside the co-op. I said to him, how are things, Michał, are you not missing Szymek? One of your cows is with Borzych, I believe, Talar took the other one. Can’t tell you who’s got your horse. They did say, but I don’t remember. There’s always so much to keep in your mind.”

Sołuch had my horse, Stach Kwiecień told me on the way. “They’ve starved it so bad you won’t recognize it. Theirs stayed in the stable while they used yours to do all the work. So are you going to be lame for the rest of your life?”

Aside from that he told me old Mrs. Waliszyn had died, that No-Hope Jasiu had killed himself on his motorcycle. And that I no longer had a dog, though he couldn’t say whether the dog had gotten free from its chain on its own, or whether someone had let it loose, you know how it is with dogs. Besides, I could get a new puppy from Mikus, his bitch had just pupped. He’d seen Michał, but when was it now, when was it? Oh yeah, he’d been sitting on the steps one time scraping carrots with a piece of glass. Those are good carrots, huh, Michał? You make sure you eat them, carrots give you more blood. Look, Miętus is coming, he might have seen him. Say, Miętus, you seen Szymek’s Michał by any chance?”

“Is he not at home?”

“I don’t know, I just got back from the hospital, I’m on my way from the bus.”

“He’s probably at home. Where else would he be. So you’re walking with sticks now, is it? Will you always have to from now on?”

“There’s not so much of that ‘always’ anymore, Walerian.”

“Maybe, maybe not, but it’ll feel like you’re doing more walking now in a day than you did before in a month. You could well have a long road ahead of you. Because me, I’m almost there.”

“You look okay.”

“Maybe on the outside, but inside I’m like that old willow that used to stand by the footbridge. I want to go see my sister in Zochcice one more time, then I think l’m going to die.”

Michał wasn’t at home. I went around the yard, the barn, the cattle sheds, I called, Michał! Michał! Everything was in ruins. I started digging around, I thought maybe there’d be a little grain left in one of the sacks, I could take it to the mill to get it ground and make some bread. Bread would be a beginning. But there was only one sack left, with bran. I’d had three before. There was rye in the first one, the second had wheat. I went into the orchard. Some of the trees had withered, others were looking crooked and sick, and all the earth there was trampled flat as a threshing floor. After that I went to the attic. Getting up there wasn’t actually that hard, though climbing down was worse. Then I sat and thought awhile in the main room, although there wasn’t really all that much to think about, either way I had to start from scratch. But before I did anything else I got up and headed out to the village to track Michał down.

I went around the nearest neighbors. One place after another was closed up, everyone was out in the fields because it was harvesttime. At the Kuśmiereks’ only Rysiek was in.

“Say, Rysiek, you haven’t seen Michał have you?”

“What Michał?” His hair was all matted and his eyes were red, you could tell he must have been drinking the day before. It was vacation time and he wasn’t going to his technical school.

“You know, my brother.”

“Oh, the old guy.”

“He’s not exactly old.”

“What do you mean not old? He’s got a beard down to here, like what’s-his-name, Lord Jesus, or that other one.”

“He’s got a beard? I didn’t know.”

“Yeah. Will you have a drink, uncle? My head’s splitting, plus father’s making me go help him in the fields. I told him, don’t sow rye. Turn the whole thing over to corn, and get into rearing livestock. Beef cattle, hogs – do you have any idea how much money you can make off those things? I could buy myself a motorbike. A car even.”

I went by Kałuża’s, two doors beyond Kuśmierek’s, but only his old lady was there, she was sitting outside on the bench feeding the chickens.

“You haven’t seen Michał have you, Mrs. Kałuża?”

“Oh, you’re back, thank heaven! We didn’t think you’d come back. Michał? I don’t go anywhere these days, sweetie. My legs won’t carry me anymore. Sometimes just down to the road. When did you get lame now? And in both legs as well? Our Irka’s got another little girl already, but that ne’er-do-well still won’t marry her, can you imagine. And her pretty as a picture. Never were such times.”

I remembered Mrs. Chmiel saying Borzych had my cow. Maybe Michał was at their place as well. But only the cow was there. Michał had used to visit, but he’d not been since spring. Only one time he’d come by there recently, Borzych’s wife had given him a bowl of cabbage, he’d wolfed the whole thing down in a flash so she gave him seconds, plus he ate like half a loaf of bread. Ask Koziara maybe. They were saying he’d helped Koziara bring his hay in. All right, let me have my cow. I put the halter around the cow’s neck, I’m leading it out of the cattle shed and Borzych pipes up, says he’s owed something.

“For what?”

“What do you mean, for what? For the cow. It’s been here a whole year, since Prażuch died.”

“You son of a bitch!” I was furious. “You must have milked it! I used to
get two bucketfuls every day, how much cheese and cream and butter have you had from that?!”

I took the cow into my shed, tied it up, and went back down to the village to continue looking for Michał. Kwiatkowski was driving his wagon to go gather his sheaves.

“Have you seen Michał maybe?”

“Whoa.” He stopped his horse. “Michał?”

“You know, my brother.”

He took his cap off and scratched his bald head.

“I think I saw him somewhere or other. Hang on. Might it have been at the church? Or maybe at the shrine outside Myga’s place. Hop in, I’ll drive you over to Myga’s and you can ask him.”

At Myga’s no one was in, there was only his dog minding the door. I whacked it with my walking stick.

“They must be out in the fields!” shouted Kwiatkowski from the wagon. “Maybe Michał went with! Come on, let’s have a smoke!”

“Which fields, do you know?”

“Across the river, or the old manor fields. They’ve got rye both places. Too bad I’m not headed that way or I’d give you a ride. Best of all would be to wait till they get back in the evening, then they’ll tell you.”

Where was I supposed to go, across the river or to the manor fields? The manor was closer so I went there. As luck would have it, that was where they were mowing. Their rye looked good, it was just a little bit laid down on one side. Edek was mowing, Helka was gathering.

“God bring you happiness!”

“God give you thanks! Oh, Szymuś, you’re back? Just in time for the harvest. Your rye’s on the far side of Przykopa’s place, the farmers’ circle sowed it for you. Though how are you going to bring it in on those sticks, you poor thing? We’ll give you a hand once we’re done with ours.”

But Michał wasn’t with them and they didn’t know where he might be. He’d visited them a month or two before. He wasn’t hungry, he just wanted a drink of whey. He helped them do their threshing. They didn’t make him, he did it of his own free will. He’s a strong one, he is, Edek could barely keep up with bringing him hay. They told him to come for dinner the next day but he didn’t show up. Maybe go ask the Pająks. Mrs. Pająk sometimes used to take him something to eat after he stuck a pitchfork in his foot last year. From the ankle down to here, it almost went right through. He was bleeding so bad they couldn’t stop it, till in the end Pająk poured spirit on it and dressed it. He’d been going around the sheaves in the farmyard sticking a pitchfork in them like he was looking for something. One time Mrs. Pająk swept your place out and cleaned up in there, and she washed all his clothes. Mrs. Błach met her when she was rinsing them down at the river. Apparently they were crawling with lice. She changed his bedding, and she gave him one of Pająk’s old shirts and a pair of pants. And Pająk went there every day and changed the dressing. There are some good people in this world.”

“I won’t bother you any more. I’ll go down to the road, see if someone’s passing in a wagon and they can give me a ride.”

“Come visit sometime.”

But no one came along. My right leg was hurting and I had to sit down, take a rest, I rubbed it a bit. It was only when I got close to the village that Kudła came by. Can I get a ride from you? Hop on. Even a short way helps. No, he hadn’t seen Michał or heard where he could be. He lives beyond the mill, it’s kind of outside the village, all he knows is when his old lady goes down the store and hears this and that. They do have a radio, but it broke and now it’s just been sitting there silent for a year or more. The Siudaks’ kid promised to come fix it, but he’s hard to get ahold of, and when you do meet him he scratches himself on the back of the head and all he’ll say is, yeah, I’ll try and call by sometime, I will. You had to go build your house so far away,
if you were closer I might come sooner. Now it’s harvesttime, the missus doesn’t have the time to listen to what all they’re talking about. Besides, you won’t learn the truth, but it’s nice to at least have a bit of a gab.”

“Pull up here, by the shrine, I’ll swing by Florek Zawada’s.”

Florek and I had sat next to each other at school, then the whole time we were young men we’d gone out on the make together, gone to dances, we’d been in the fire brigade together, so I figured he’d probably know something. He’d visited me a couple of times in the hospital and he always brought something, cigarettes, a cake, another time some sausage and a bottle of vodka, and each time he’d say, what are you worried about, what are you worried about. Michał’s not gonna die. Concentrate on getting out of here. He was pleased to see me, we exchanged kisses and he clapped me on the back, commiserated about my walking sticks, told me who had my horse, who had my cows, he wanted to share a bottle with me. His Magda tried to get me to stay for dinner, though they’d both just gotten back from the fields when I arrived. But where Michał was they didn’t know. He’d been there the previous Sunday. They’d given him dinner, he ate it and stayed awhile, but he didn’t come again after that. They even wanted him to stop with them. They said, stay here, Michał, we have to go get the harvest in, you can mind the place for us. You don’t need to keep going from one house to another. Maybe you should try Żmuda the barber, he cuts people’s hair, shaves them, he knows more. Plus his window looks out onto the road, he can always see who’s coming along, which way they’re headed. Us, these days we’re in the fields all day long. I think he was supposed to cut Michał’s hair and give him a shave, the district ordered it. Someone was saying about it, you remember who it was, Magda?”

I went by Zmuda’s. So you’re back, Mr. Szymek? How are things? Are you always gonna have to be like that? No, it’s true, I had instructions from the district administration to cut your brother’s hair and give him a shave.
Someone brought it up at a meeting, that it reflected badly on the village. It was embarrassing that someone should go without being looked after. But you understand yourself, Mr. Szymek, I’m not going to plonk him down in the chair by force. Getting your hair cut, having a shave, those are matters of free will, so to speak. If someone wants to, be my guest. Just like they ask for it to be shorter, longer, crew cut, down to the skin, sideburns straight down or angled, cut wet or dry, would you like aftershave. By all means. I don’t impose myself on anyone. If they bring him here and sit him down I’ll cut his hair and shave him like anyone else. Whenever he walked past I’d run out, Mr. Michał! Mr. Michał! But I never managed to get him to come in. Maybe now that you’re back. By all means. I’m here.”

Zdun came by. Hey there, Zdun, you haven’t seen my brother Michał anywhere have you? Let me see, your brother? Has he gone somewhere? Well, yeah. If he’s gone then he’ll come back. But what’s up with your legs there? You fall off a ladder?

I went to see Fularski. They don’t have any land, they gave everything to their sons-in-law, all that was left was the orchard and the beehives out among the trees. So they were probably home and they might know where Michał was. But they didn’t. He came by one time, but it was last year, Fularski was fumigating his bees. He came up and stood right by one of the hives. Step away or the bees’ll sting you! He didn’t move. The bees were crawling all over him and he didn’t do a thing. Either he didn’t feel anything, or they didn’t sting him. Because you should know that bees, they can tell a good person from a bad person. The bad person they’ll sting to pieces, the good one, they’ll crawl around all over him and not one of them will sting him. Go try Wrona or Maciejka maybe, they live closer to you and they’re more likely to know something, we’re right at the edge of the village.

BOOK: Stone Upon Stone
6.04Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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