get the fuck out of my life. You can even keep your shitty flat, the musty fucking burrow!” Janusz slammed the door and left.
He found the newborns in the next room. He opened the door and examined the cribs, puzzled. All the children looked the same. Janusz was truly stumped. Then he noticed a nurse in one corner of the room. She was holding an exceptionally small baby in her arms.
“Good morning,” he said. “Janusz Borowski. I came to see my son.”
The nurse gave him a glance. As she approached him, she rocked the child unconsciously. It seemed to him that all women did this. Sometimes hummed as they went.
“This is your son,” she said and put the baby in his arms.
Janusz hesitated, but eventually hugged the boy to him. His hands felt stiff. He clenched his fingers around his son’s fragile body. Too firmly. The child felt it and opened his eyes. Dark blue, like cornflowers after a storm.
“Hi,” Janusz whispered, and he began to cry.
By the time he returned to Sabina he’d already made up his mind.
“I won’t give him back,” he declared, standing in the doorway. “I support you, I make a living, I earn as much as I can. You have everything you need. We have enough to share it with Bartek,” he concluded, emphasizing that the boy already had a name. Like every other family member. He wouldn’t be referred to as “him” anymore—his name was Bartek.
“But...” Sabina tried to defend herself somehow. But she gave up when she saw the look on her husband’s face. Janusz was proud of himself. To blast Sabina with a single glance—that wasn’t easy.
“Why don’t you want him?” he asked more gently.
“I’m not strong enough...”
“I’ll help you, I promise,” he swore, already knowing it was a lie. He spent more and more time at work, guarding his stool.
Sabina waved her hand as if she were shooing away a fly. Her gesture seemed so delicate, nearly unfinished. Janusz came closer and stroked her as if she were a little girl. He was touched by her gaping shirt.
“Liar!” Sabina cried out so suddenly that he jumped in his seat. “Shit!” She began to sob. “You won’t help! You won’t! Just take him for yourself! I don’t want him! I’m not coming back home!” She sprang out of bed and began knocking over stools, ripping the bedding from the beds, and throwing drip stands against the walls.
Janusz retreated to a corner, hunching his shoulders to protect his head. Nurses came running from the nursing duty office, the head of the maternity ward hard on their heels. The noise of broken equipment had roused him. He shouldered his way through the staff and was the first one to burst into the room.
“What’s going on here?” he demanded with a peremptory tone he’d perfected over years of practice. He was good at ordering, at kicking people around. Sabina momentarily froze. Like a child in the middle of the play. “Quiet!” the doctor ordered. Janusz straightened up. “You,” the doctor said to Sabina. “Get the fuck out of here. You’re being discharged today!” Sabina didn’t dare to argue. “And you,” he said to Janusz. “Take the baby. And your wife. If you can’t behave yourselves, then get out! Get out of my hospital!”
11
Hanka—Baptism
Bartek was baptized a month later. Sabina and Janusz decided it was necessary. Everyone at the housing estate expected it—they had all baptized their children, so there wasn’t really much choice. Hanka was neither pleased about it, nor disappointed by it. It made no difference to her: baptism or no baptism.
The church ceremony was short, and Hanka was very glad of it. She didn’t like the dreadful coolness of aisles and the icy light that came through the stained glass. She was frightened of the faces of the saints and angels. They looked as if they were going to burst into tears. The music was terrible, too. A near-deaf church clerk sang something devoid of rhythm. Hanka’s ears hurt.
As soon as the last
He found the newborns in the next room. He opened the door and examined the cribs, puzzled. All the children looked the same. Janusz was truly stumped. Then he noticed a nurse in one corner of the room. She was holding an exceptionally small baby in her arms.
“Good morning,” he said. “Janusz Borowski. I came to see my son.”
The nurse gave him a glance. As she approached him, she rocked the child unconsciously. It seemed to him that all women did this. Sometimes hummed as they went.
“This is your son,” she said and put the baby in his arms.
Janusz hesitated, but eventually hugged the boy to him. His hands felt stiff. He clenched his fingers around his son’s fragile body. Too firmly. The child felt it and opened his eyes. Dark blue, like cornflowers after a storm.
“Hi,” Janusz whispered, and he began to cry.
By the time he returned to Sabina he’d already made up his mind.
“I won’t give him back,” he declared, standing in the doorway. “I support you, I make a living, I earn as much as I can. You have everything you need. We have enough to share it with Bartek,” he concluded, emphasizing that the boy already had a name. Like every other family member. He wouldn’t be referred to as “him” anymore—his name was Bartek.
“But...” Sabina tried to defend herself somehow. But she gave up when she saw the look on her husband’s face. Janusz was proud of himself. To blast Sabina with a single glance—that wasn’t easy.
“Why don’t you want him?” he asked more gently.
“I’m not strong enough...”
“I’ll help you, I promise,” he swore, already knowing it was a lie. He spent more and more time at work, guarding his stool.
Sabina waved her hand as if she were shooing away a fly. Her gesture seemed so delicate, nearly unfinished. Janusz came closer and stroked her as if she were a little girl. He was touched by her gaping shirt.
“Liar!” Sabina cried out so suddenly that he jumped in his seat. “Shit!” She began to sob. “You won’t help! You won’t! Just take him for yourself! I don’t want him! I’m not coming back home!” She sprang out of bed and began knocking over stools, ripping the bedding from the beds, and throwing drip stands against the walls.
Janusz retreated to a corner, hunching his shoulders to protect his head. Nurses came running from the nursing duty office, the head of the maternity ward hard on their heels. The noise of broken equipment had roused him. He shouldered his way through the staff and was the first one to burst into the room.
“What’s going on here?” he demanded with a peremptory tone he’d perfected over years of practice. He was good at ordering, at kicking people around. Sabina momentarily froze. Like a child in the middle of the play. “Quiet!” the doctor ordered. Janusz straightened up. “You,” the doctor said to Sabina. “Get the fuck out of here. You’re being discharged today!” Sabina didn’t dare to argue. “And you,” he said to Janusz. “Take the baby. And your wife. If you can’t behave yourselves, then get out! Get out of my hospital!”
11
Hanka—Baptism
Bartek was baptized a month later. Sabina and Janusz decided it was necessary. Everyone at the housing estate expected it—they had all baptized their children, so there wasn’t really much choice. Hanka was neither pleased about it, nor disappointed by it. It made no difference to her: baptism or no baptism.
The church ceremony was short, and Hanka was very glad of it. She didn’t like the dreadful coolness of aisles and the icy light that came through the stained glass. She was frightened of the faces of the saints and angels. They looked as if they were going to burst into tears. The music was terrible, too. A near-deaf church clerk sang something devoid of rhythm. Hanka’s ears hurt.
As soon as the last
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