Wieslaw Mysliwski - Stone Upon Stone

“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.