Wieslaw Mysliwski - Stone Upon Stone

But this time, that one stupid bottle went to my head and it was like I was walking up hill and down dale, and the ground under me was rocking into the bargain. At one point it must have rocked more than usual because I staggered and if she hadn’t caught me I would have hit the deck.

“You’re drunk, Mr. Szymek,” she said. “I can get home on my own from here.”

“It’s just my legs, Miss Małgosia,” I said. “My head’s as clear as the moon up there above us.”

The moon was like a cow’s udder, if you’d pulled at its teats we’d have been covered in streams of moonlight.

“I could go all the way to the edge of the world with you, Miss Małgosia, we’d never lose our way. Wherever you wanted to go, nearby or far away, it’d all be the same to me, I could walk through the woods, I could walk forever.”

Then I started going on about the resistance and how I had seven wounds. All healed up long ago, of course. But sometimes, like today, it’s as if I can feel them bleeding. If she wanted I could show her and tell about each one. Then I tried to count how many Germans I’d killed. But for some reason I couldn’t get past five. I checked them off on the fingers of my left hand, but when I got to the fifth finger the list broke off like the earth had swallowed it up. I couldn’t make head or tail of it. All that shooting I’d done, and there were only five of them? Could they have risen from the dead?

Aside from that I could feel anger welling up inside of me. I was walking and walking, and all for nothing. She wasn’t saying a word. It was probably the anger that made me think, so she’ll go with Maślanka but not with me. How is he better than me? He wasn’t even in the resistance, the loser, all he did was trade in hogs, other people spilled their blood for him. How do I know? People in the offices talk, you can’t hide anything there. Though the people that talk do the same things themselves, there’s nothing to get upset about. She wasn’t planning on being a saint, right? Why would she? She’d get old and then regret it. What pleasure was there in being a saint? All you’d do is be in a picture on the church wall, or they’d hand you out during the priest’s Christmastime visit or sell you at church fairs, or you’d have your name in the calendar. But you have to be a big-time saint for that. You’d have to kick another saint off, because there’s already four or five of them for every day. Even the most saintly ones are going to get squeezed out soon. It’s not worth the effort. On top of everything else, you never know if it’s only down here you’re considered a saint, but afterwards you’re actually going to go roast in hell. How can we know what happens afterwards? So then, Miss Małgosia, is it far yet? We’ll be through the woods soon. But I can keep going if you want. And if you want, I can marry you. It’s high time I got married. People go on and on at me about how I ought to be married. Tell me, Miss Małgosia, would you be my wife? I can’t promise you happiness because I don’t have happiness inside me. But we’d get by somehow or other. I could even marry you tomorrow. I’ll perform the ceremony myself. I’ll make such a speech they’ll remember us even after we’re dead. At Mayor Rożek’s funeral, the one that they shot, I gave this speech that had everyone in tears. The guy that came from the county offices, he just mumbled something, he didn’t say a word about Rożek, he just went on about enemies the whole time. In the end Rożek himself rose up out of his casket and said, you, piss off, I want Pietruszka to make the speech. And no blubbering, I want to be able to hear it clear. That’s how he was, he never minced his words, but he had a heart of gold. If you want, we can even get married in church. I don’t know if God exists. But if he exists for you, he’ll exist for me. The tailor could make me a suit and the dressmaker will sew a dress for you. What do you say, Miss Małgosia?

She was walking along like a shadow, still not saying a thing. I even had the impression that it wasn’t her walking along but the woods, and I was talking any old nonsense to the trees. And maybe because of not knowing whether it was her or not, I suddenly put my arms around her and whispered:

“Małgosia.”

She slapped me in the face, pulled free of my drunken embrace, and ran off.

“Małgosia, don’t run away! I’d never do anything to hurt you! Don’t run away!” I shouted. I started after her. But she ran like a roe deer. And me, the ground swayed underneath me and began spinning around. My legs got all tangled up. I tried to follow her, but I was pulled in every direction at once. I bumped into something once and twice, then in the end the road threw me to one side. Goddammit!

“Małgosia! Stop! Wait! I won’t touch you anymore! I thought you wanted it too! Wait!” I had the feeling it wasn’t just me shouting, but the whole woods were calling after her, and the moon over the trees, and the night. “Małgosia!”

Her shadow was getting farther and farther away, growing more and more faint, till it disappeared completely. I stood still for a moment thinking the road might stop dancing in front of my eyes and I’d be able to see her again and call her, and then she’d have to stop. Or maybe she’d get tired from all that running, or suddenly be scared. The road was lit up like a ribbon in the moonlight, but it looked even emptier. I didn’t know if I should keep after her or not. I pushed on. You idiot, for a minute you thought she was Kaśka the shop assistant. With Kaśka you can talk any kind of nonsense you like and she’ll still tell you you’re smart. You’re a smart one, Szymuś. If I was half as smart as you I’d have had my own store long ago. I could sell anything I wanted. I wouldn’t sell bread or salt. They can go bake their own bread. Buy salt in town.

“Małgosia!” I started yelling through the woods again. “Don’t be afraid of me! I’m not drunk anymore!”

All of a sudden, to my right I heard something like a tree crying. I don’t know if it was an oak or a beech. I even reached out my hand, then I saw her pressed against the tree trunk.

“Oh, it’s you,” I said. “Come on, don’t cry. There’s nothing to cry about. We’re not right for each other, that’s all. Let’s go, I’ll walk you home then head off back on my own.”

“I don’t want you to walk me home. I don’t want you to!” she said through her tears. “I thought that you at least, you were different. I thought you just seemed that way. I was close to trusting you.” She broke away from the tree and ran off again.

But this time I didn’t chase her. Run all you like, bitch, I’ve no intention of chasing you. They all want you to be different. How are you supposed to be different? Can a person be different from himself? He’s the way he is, and that’s how he has to be. I went back to the dance.

Now I really started to have a good time. Whoever showed up I bought them a drink, friends, strangers, enemies. Whether they wanted to drink or no, they had to. You won’t have a drink with Szymek? I wouldn’t even let the band go eat their supper, I brought them vodka and sandwiches and told them to keep playing. They played nothing but polkas and obereks, because that was what I wanted. Some folks were shouting that they were exhausted, they wanted a tango or a waltz. But I said no, polka, oberek, oberek, polka. And the band had to do what I said, here’s another five hundred for you! The emcee came up and said what was I doing taking charge here, was it my party? So I grabbed the ribbon off his chest and pinned it on myself. I’m the emcee now, you scram! If you don’t I’ll make such a ruckus there’ll be nothing to pick up afterwards. Count yourself lucky I’m feeling happy, because God forbid I’d be in a bad mood. Your whole dance would end up in the woods.