Read Online Stone Upon Stone by Wiesław Myśliwski - Free Book Online
Authors: Wiesław Myśliwski
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worst. So the moment I made it past the cemetery gate I plopped down on the nearest tomb. I was staggered, my eyes were blinded with sweat.
Kozioł Family, I read on the stone I was sitting on. It didn’t look that big. No one would have believed you could’ve gotten more than three orfour people in there. But when they buried old Kozioł here a few years ago there were already five of them in the tomb and he was number six. Though the fact is they barely managed to squeeze him in there. The coffins were squashed next to each other like barrels in a cellar. There wasn’t enough room to go inside and set the casket on its rails. They looked for the smallest farmer to climb in, but no one wanted to be the smallest one. Each one they asked said no, it wasn’t him, so-and-so was smaller. Anyway, how can you tell who’s the smallest in a crowd of people like that. You’d have had to take out a tape measure and measure them. In the end they found someone, maybe he wasn’t the smallest one, but he went in there. Except afterwards he couldn’t get out, because the casket was blocking his way and they had to pull it out again. So then they lifted it up because they thought it might be easier to get it in from the top, but this time the coffin lid got in the way. When they took the lid off, it came out that they were burying their father in resoled shoes. Another time I went to the firehouse to watch the farmers playing cards. The Koziołs’ kid Franek was playing with Jasiu Bąk and Marciniak and Kwiatkowski. Jasiu Bąk had gotten a full house, Marciniak had a straight flush, Kwiatkowski was carrying a pair, and Franek didn’t have a thing, but he was the most fanatical of all of them. In the end he bet the whole pot, and in the pot there must have been ten pairs of shoes, a suit, a shirt, a tie, maybe even a coffin. And he lost the lot, because Jasiu called him. Franek didn’t bat an eyelid. He even took another two hundred from his pocket and sent Gwóźdź out for a bottle of vodka.
I measured a dozen or so of the tombs. I didn’t just measure them, I looked them over carefully and sounded them. From what I could see, the tombs that Chmiel built were way sturdier than the ones the Woźniaks had made. Also, in comparison with Chmiel’s, the Woźniaks’ ones were tiny, even when they were for the same number of coffins. And even the oldest tombs Chmiel had built, from before the war, were still good, it was like they were part of the earth. Because Chmiel had been building tombs fordonkey’s years. The Woźniaks only started during the war, when Chmiel couldn’t keep up with the work.
Some people told me to go with the Woźniaks, they were a lot younger and they worked the two of them together, while Chmiel was old and took his time. And that with the Woźniaks I wouldn’t have any trouble getting lime or cement, because they bought it directly off the people that filched it from the trains. It was just that I didn’t like the Woźniaks’ work, and on top of that they like to eat well and at each meal you have to buy them a bottle, because otherwise they’ll go work for someone else and leave your job unfinished. Chmiel didn’t drink. Also, whenever he ate too much or he had food that was too greasy he’d get the bellyache and he’d have to squat down a bit to put pressure on his stomach. He said that in the last war he’d eaten some bad herring and ever since then he needed to squat like that whenever he ate too much, or he ate greasy food. But it wasn’t anything he couldn’t live with.
And you didn’t need to keep an eye on Chmiel, he’d check everything himself and remember about everything. When I bought cement it wasn’t enough that I had it, he had to come and see what kind it was. Actually he pissed me off, because it was like he was looking for problems. First he wet his finger, stuck it in the cement, and put it on his tongue. Then he took a handful from the sack, poured a thin stream of it
Kozioł Family, I read on the stone I was sitting on. It didn’t look that big. No one would have believed you could’ve gotten more than three orfour people in there. But when they buried old Kozioł here a few years ago there were already five of them in the tomb and he was number six. Though the fact is they barely managed to squeeze him in there. The coffins were squashed next to each other like barrels in a cellar. There wasn’t enough room to go inside and set the casket on its rails. They looked for the smallest farmer to climb in, but no one wanted to be the smallest one. Each one they asked said no, it wasn’t him, so-and-so was smaller. Anyway, how can you tell who’s the smallest in a crowd of people like that. You’d have had to take out a tape measure and measure them. In the end they found someone, maybe he wasn’t the smallest one, but he went in there. Except afterwards he couldn’t get out, because the casket was blocking his way and they had to pull it out again. So then they lifted it up because they thought it might be easier to get it in from the top, but this time the coffin lid got in the way. When they took the lid off, it came out that they were burying their father in resoled shoes. Another time I went to the firehouse to watch the farmers playing cards. The Koziołs’ kid Franek was playing with Jasiu Bąk and Marciniak and Kwiatkowski. Jasiu Bąk had gotten a full house, Marciniak had a straight flush, Kwiatkowski was carrying a pair, and Franek didn’t have a thing, but he was the most fanatical of all of them. In the end he bet the whole pot, and in the pot there must have been ten pairs of shoes, a suit, a shirt, a tie, maybe even a coffin. And he lost the lot, because Jasiu called him. Franek didn’t bat an eyelid. He even took another two hundred from his pocket and sent Gwóźdź out for a bottle of vodka.
I measured a dozen or so of the tombs. I didn’t just measure them, I looked them over carefully and sounded them. From what I could see, the tombs that Chmiel built were way sturdier than the ones the Woźniaks had made. Also, in comparison with Chmiel’s, the Woźniaks’ ones were tiny, even when they were for the same number of coffins. And even the oldest tombs Chmiel had built, from before the war, were still good, it was like they were part of the earth. Because Chmiel had been building tombs fordonkey’s years. The Woźniaks only started during the war, when Chmiel couldn’t keep up with the work.
Some people told me to go with the Woźniaks, they were a lot younger and they worked the two of them together, while Chmiel was old and took his time. And that with the Woźniaks I wouldn’t have any trouble getting lime or cement, because they bought it directly off the people that filched it from the trains. It was just that I didn’t like the Woźniaks’ work, and on top of that they like to eat well and at each meal you have to buy them a bottle, because otherwise they’ll go work for someone else and leave your job unfinished. Chmiel didn’t drink. Also, whenever he ate too much or he had food that was too greasy he’d get the bellyache and he’d have to squat down a bit to put pressure on his stomach. He said that in the last war he’d eaten some bad herring and ever since then he needed to squat like that whenever he ate too much, or he ate greasy food. But it wasn’t anything he couldn’t live with.
And you didn’t need to keep an eye on Chmiel, he’d check everything himself and remember about everything. When I bought cement it wasn’t enough that I had it, he had to come and see what kind it was. Actually he pissed me off, because it was like he was looking for problems. First he wet his finger, stuck it in the cement, and put it on his tongue. Then he took a handful from the sack, poured a thin stream of it
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