Read Online Swans Are Fat Too by Michelle Granas - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Michelle Granas
Tags: Literary, Literature & Fiction, Contemporary Fiction, Contemporary Women, Women's Fiction, World Literature, Eastern European
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finished.
"So the deal is this. Your parents didn't leave any money. No money equals no food. I have a little, but, if I'm going to spend it, I'm going to need some cooperation. Look, we're all in this together, aren't we?
"I hate them." Said Kalina with vehemence. "They make me sick."
"Okay," said Hania, recruiting her ideas. "Okay. But what we need here are some positive ideas. Hating people won't help."
"It's fun, though," said Maks positively.
"No, no. It doesn't do any good. The point is––we're stuck here together, we don't know when your parents are coming back, and we have to get along. We can make life miserable for each other, or we can help each other out. Which do you think would be best?"
"I thought you were here to take care of us," said Kalina angrily. "Why should we help you?"
"I didn't come here to take care of you. You're old enough to take care of yourself, aren't you?"
"Yes."
"And old enough to take care of Maks."
No answer.
"So since we're two adults living here, I suggest we treat each other with courtesy––like saying if we're going out somewhere––and we divide up the chores, and divide up looking after Maks––you could watch him for, say, two hours in the afternoon, and then, probably I won't mind spending my money––my own hard-earned money––on food. Otherwise..." She let a long silence follow. "Maks can help out too."
"What can I help out with?" Maks looked alarmed.
"You could take your plate to the sink, things like that."
Kalina got up from the table without saying anything and left the room.
After this, Hania didn't know if she'd scored a total failure or only a partial one. Her brief period of enthusiasm waned sharply. How could she think she could help? She could only hope the situation wouldn't last long. Maks played with his toy cars and she worked on the history. She had an email. She opened it in excitement: it didn't matter that it was only about the work, it made her feel she wasn't alone. Konstanty had addressed each of her comments.
Respected Madam,…Do you really think I spend too much time on marriages? I think they're rather important, but perhaps I was brought up to pay over much attention to genealogical matters. Still, just think: Charlemagne was making arrangements to marry Irene, Empress of Byzantium. If the marriage had gone through how differently history might have unrolled––both for the world, if the empires were united, and for Charlemagne personally (she is thought to have done away with her son, the Emperor Constantine, and why should she have stopped there?) ...
Respected Sir,…was the murdered son the Byzantine ruler who sent Charlemagne a fabulous organ?
Hania looked up. Here was Maks again at her side. He probably had some horror for her. He wouldn't talk to her otherwise. He sat down beside her, not looking at her, kicking his feet. "You promised you'd eat a shoe and you didn't."
"Maks, I never promised. I never said 'I promise.' You can't twist things people say to you." On the other hand, did she remember exactly what she'd said? Maybe she'd given that impression. And he was clearly holding out an––so to speak––olive branch.
Respected Sir, May I ask a medical question? Will I be harmed by eating a small piece of leather?
Respected Madam, Re: the small piece of leather. I presume we are considering a very small piece here. I am not a gastroenterologist but my guess is that the tannins, etc. are unlikely to be of sufficient quantity to cause lasting damage. The possibility of choking should, however, be considered, and the portion to be consumed should be suitably reduced and masticated. In regards to the necessity itself, I think it comes down to the following: if there was a promise, then there's no question, if it kills you, you have to perform it. If there was no promise, then why ever?
Respected Sir, There was no promise, but I'm trying to win him over.
Respected Madam, Bon appétit.
The
"So the deal is this. Your parents didn't leave any money. No money equals no food. I have a little, but, if I'm going to spend it, I'm going to need some cooperation. Look, we're all in this together, aren't we?
"I hate them." Said Kalina with vehemence. "They make me sick."
"Okay," said Hania, recruiting her ideas. "Okay. But what we need here are some positive ideas. Hating people won't help."
"It's fun, though," said Maks positively.
"No, no. It doesn't do any good. The point is––we're stuck here together, we don't know when your parents are coming back, and we have to get along. We can make life miserable for each other, or we can help each other out. Which do you think would be best?"
"I thought you were here to take care of us," said Kalina angrily. "Why should we help you?"
"I didn't come here to take care of you. You're old enough to take care of yourself, aren't you?"
"Yes."
"And old enough to take care of Maks."
No answer.
"So since we're two adults living here, I suggest we treat each other with courtesy––like saying if we're going out somewhere––and we divide up the chores, and divide up looking after Maks––you could watch him for, say, two hours in the afternoon, and then, probably I won't mind spending my money––my own hard-earned money––on food. Otherwise..." She let a long silence follow. "Maks can help out too."
"What can I help out with?" Maks looked alarmed.
"You could take your plate to the sink, things like that."
Kalina got up from the table without saying anything and left the room.
After this, Hania didn't know if she'd scored a total failure or only a partial one. Her brief period of enthusiasm waned sharply. How could she think she could help? She could only hope the situation wouldn't last long. Maks played with his toy cars and she worked on the history. She had an email. She opened it in excitement: it didn't matter that it was only about the work, it made her feel she wasn't alone. Konstanty had addressed each of her comments.
Respected Madam,…Do you really think I spend too much time on marriages? I think they're rather important, but perhaps I was brought up to pay over much attention to genealogical matters. Still, just think: Charlemagne was making arrangements to marry Irene, Empress of Byzantium. If the marriage had gone through how differently history might have unrolled––both for the world, if the empires were united, and for Charlemagne personally (she is thought to have done away with her son, the Emperor Constantine, and why should she have stopped there?) ...
Respected Sir,…was the murdered son the Byzantine ruler who sent Charlemagne a fabulous organ?
Hania looked up. Here was Maks again at her side. He probably had some horror for her. He wouldn't talk to her otherwise. He sat down beside her, not looking at her, kicking his feet. "You promised you'd eat a shoe and you didn't."
"Maks, I never promised. I never said 'I promise.' You can't twist things people say to you." On the other hand, did she remember exactly what she'd said? Maybe she'd given that impression. And he was clearly holding out an––so to speak––olive branch.
Respected Sir, May I ask a medical question? Will I be harmed by eating a small piece of leather?
Respected Madam, Re: the small piece of leather. I presume we are considering a very small piece here. I am not a gastroenterologist but my guess is that the tannins, etc. are unlikely to be of sufficient quantity to cause lasting damage. The possibility of choking should, however, be considered, and the portion to be consumed should be suitably reduced and masticated. In regards to the necessity itself, I think it comes down to the following: if there was a promise, then there's no question, if it kills you, you have to perform it. If there was no promise, then why ever?
Respected Sir, There was no promise, but I'm trying to win him over.
Respected Madam, Bon appétit.
The
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