blurred.
Where is dad?
“Dad! Dad!” she cried out.
Janusz burst out of the kitchen.
“Baby!” he shouted, terrified by Hanka’s appearance. And Janusz’s fear made her afraid. He returned to the kitchen and quickly came back with the cloth. He put it in on the wound on Hanka’s head. It slowly filled to soaking—head wounds always bleed freely, Hanka knew. She had to stay calm. It would stop in a moment. She wanted to comfort Janusz, but somehow couldn’t come up with any words that made sense.
“What about Bartek?” Janusz asked. “Why is he crying?”
“I don’t know. Maybe he’s hungry.” Hanka wanted to muster more, but couldn’t.
“Wait,” Janusz said, and went into the kitchen.
After a moment he returned with the bottle of the milk for the baby. It was more than Bartek could possibly drink, but Hanka didn’t comment. It was still quite early, and the remaining milk would be useful later. They fed the baby together. Once Bartek had burped and fallen back to sleep, Sabina turned up at the door of the children’s room.
“What the fuck is going on here?” she started, as she so often did. “Janusz! Join our guests! It’s impolite to disappear like that!”
“I had to help. Hanka fell down...”
“Hanka! Hanka! Hanka all over again! Or this little shit!” Sabina took her son from Janusz and hurled him violently into the pram, knocking the wind out of him for a time. Hanka screamed at Sabina’s outrageous behaviour.
That bitch!
she thought.
She’ll kill him! He’s so tiny!
Sabina wanted to hit Bartek again. She had beaten him earlier—Hanka had seen bruises! She gathered her strength and stood between her mother and the pram. She would defend her brother! She was big enough! But her father was faster.
“Stop!” Janusz grabbed Sabina by the shoulder and pulled her back toward the living room, keeping a powerful grip. Hanka could see bluish marks appearing on her skin, left by her father’s fingers. She deserved it!
“Stop? Stop!” Sabina shrieked. “I can never enjoy a party because of you! Now you’ve even screwed up the baptism party!” she sobbed. “Always the same! You, Hanka, and Bartek! Where does that leave me? Where?” Sabina screamed, rushing to the door. She grabbed Janusz’s old military jacket and ran out to the staircase. She half slithered, half ran down the slippery stairs.
Downstairs, she banged the door open with her hands. She charged out to the backyard, racing if she were being pursued. She glanced to the left, then the right, then raced away.
The guests went after her. Some of them left the building in their slippers, others barefoot. They yammered on the stairs and quarrelled, pushing their way out. Finally everything went silent. Hanka was left alone with Bartek, who, happy with the peace, immediately fell asleep.
Hanka approached the window. She spotted her mother near the playground. Sabina was running as fast as she could, her beige flats flashing. Her jacket fluttering behind her, like a bridal train. The others followed her. They must have shouted something to her, because she looked back from time to time. She moved her lips in reply. Or maybe she was singing. Hanka remembered once watching something on TV without sound. The actors had walked around, opening and closing their mouths. It was hard to guess what they meant. But Sabina’s emotions were clear to Hanka. Fierce eyebrows drawn hard together. Mouth shut in a tight line. Flaring nostrils. Her mother was furious.
How furious? One of her uncles found out when he grabbed Sabina by the forearm. She broke free in one move. She tore off her jacket and began to beat him with it. Hanka could almost hear the whistle of the fabric singing through the air, the ringing of the zipper. Sabina whipped the uncle with the metal part, just below the eye. Thin skin ripped. The uncle fell to his knees. Blood leaked between his fingers as he shielded his face. Sabina threw back her head and laughed.
Where is dad?
“Dad! Dad!” she cried out.
Janusz burst out of the kitchen.
“Baby!” he shouted, terrified by Hanka’s appearance. And Janusz’s fear made her afraid. He returned to the kitchen and quickly came back with the cloth. He put it in on the wound on Hanka’s head. It slowly filled to soaking—head wounds always bleed freely, Hanka knew. She had to stay calm. It would stop in a moment. She wanted to comfort Janusz, but somehow couldn’t come up with any words that made sense.
“What about Bartek?” Janusz asked. “Why is he crying?”
“I don’t know. Maybe he’s hungry.” Hanka wanted to muster more, but couldn’t.
“Wait,” Janusz said, and went into the kitchen.
After a moment he returned with the bottle of the milk for the baby. It was more than Bartek could possibly drink, but Hanka didn’t comment. It was still quite early, and the remaining milk would be useful later. They fed the baby together. Once Bartek had burped and fallen back to sleep, Sabina turned up at the door of the children’s room.
“What the fuck is going on here?” she started, as she so often did. “Janusz! Join our guests! It’s impolite to disappear like that!”
“I had to help. Hanka fell down...”
“Hanka! Hanka! Hanka all over again! Or this little shit!” Sabina took her son from Janusz and hurled him violently into the pram, knocking the wind out of him for a time. Hanka screamed at Sabina’s outrageous behaviour.
That bitch!
she thought.
She’ll kill him! He’s so tiny!
Sabina wanted to hit Bartek again. She had beaten him earlier—Hanka had seen bruises! She gathered her strength and stood between her mother and the pram. She would defend her brother! She was big enough! But her father was faster.
“Stop!” Janusz grabbed Sabina by the shoulder and pulled her back toward the living room, keeping a powerful grip. Hanka could see bluish marks appearing on her skin, left by her father’s fingers. She deserved it!
“Stop? Stop!” Sabina shrieked. “I can never enjoy a party because of you! Now you’ve even screwed up the baptism party!” she sobbed. “Always the same! You, Hanka, and Bartek! Where does that leave me? Where?” Sabina screamed, rushing to the door. She grabbed Janusz’s old military jacket and ran out to the staircase. She half slithered, half ran down the slippery stairs.
Downstairs, she banged the door open with her hands. She charged out to the backyard, racing if she were being pursued. She glanced to the left, then the right, then raced away.
The guests went after her. Some of them left the building in their slippers, others barefoot. They yammered on the stairs and quarrelled, pushing their way out. Finally everything went silent. Hanka was left alone with Bartek, who, happy with the peace, immediately fell asleep.
Hanka approached the window. She spotted her mother near the playground. Sabina was running as fast as she could, her beige flats flashing. Her jacket fluttering behind her, like a bridal train. The others followed her. They must have shouted something to her, because she looked back from time to time. She moved her lips in reply. Or maybe she was singing. Hanka remembered once watching something on TV without sound. The actors had walked around, opening and closing their mouths. It was hard to guess what they meant. But Sabina’s emotions were clear to Hanka. Fierce eyebrows drawn hard together. Mouth shut in a tight line. Flaring nostrils. Her mother was furious.
How furious? One of her uncles found out when he grabbed Sabina by the forearm. She broke free in one move. She tore off her jacket and began to beat him with it. Hanka could almost hear the whistle of the fabric singing through the air, the ringing of the zipper. Sabina whipped the uncle with the metal part, just below the eye. Thin skin ripped. The uncle fell to his knees. Blood leaked between his fingers as he shielded his face. Sabina threw back her head and laughed.
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