Perwik (Anne)

 

2. Ania.

How is that possible? He'd been preparing for this meeting for two days, and when the time came, he was late. All because of a sudden change of heart regarding his attire.

He was about to leave. He took one last, self-examining glance in the hallway mirror and realized he'd gone a bit overboard. The brown suit and dark burgundy shirt with the collar unbuttoned were, in Barwik's mind, meant to symbolize elegant, Hugh Grant-esque casualness. At the last minute, he realized that the suit might give the date an overly formal tone, which could significantly hinder the plan Barwik had been meticulously crafting for the past two days...

The two days since Justyna's unexpected call had dragged on incredibly long. The phone call hadn't so much surprised Barwik as completely unsettled him.

"Hi Maks, aren't you going to a funeral by any chance?

" "No..." Barwik replied instinctively. At first, he didn't remember who he was talking to.

"That's a shame." There's nothing like a date at a grave.

"A date?" Barwik stiffened. In an instant, he remembered the blonde who, in the few minutes they spent together in the car, had managed to tell him about her job, problems with the neighbors in the apartment building where she lived, and the "adorable" cat named Puszek who lived with her. "Anna?

" "Listen, Maks, I don't have much time for chatting right now. I just wanted to ask if you have any plans for Saturday?" and without waiting for an answer, she added, "I thought maybe you wanted to invite me out for dinner?"

"Yes... That's what I was thinking... I was going to call you," Barwik said.

"Sure," Anna laughed. "I would never make it if I had to wait for your call... So what time are you picking me up? 6 p.m. would be best.

" "Sorry I'm late," he said, entering her apartment.

"It's okay, I'm always late too," Anna replied, leading him into the living room.

"I'm not late..." Barwik corrected. "Today is special."

"I know, I know..." Anna gave him a long look. "You're a real stiff. But that's good, I like guys with principles.

" "Principles?" Barwik repeated, surprised; he'd never considered himself a "guy with principles." More like a guy with complexes.

"You know, the kind who aren't late, always keep their word, give way to a woman in the aisle, and come on dates with flowers and wine, not weed and a pack of condoms," Anna explained.

"Right..." Barwik thought fleetingly of the condoms in his jacket's inner pocket. "I was thinking about flowers, but I wasn't sure to what extent our meeting was a date...

" "What do you mean, to what extent it's a date?" she laughed. "It's the most real date possible."

"If so, I'm taking you to a real restaurant, for a real dinner.

" "Really?" Anna's voice held a slight note of disappointment. "I was hoping we'd start with some uncluttered sex at my place, and then maybe grab a bite to eat." Then she started laughing at Barwik's expression.

Dinner began rather stiffly. Barwik wasn't sure how to behave at first. Anna's directness intimidated him. It even irritated him a bit. He'd been expecting a cautious, measured conversation, during which both parties would slowly get to know each other. He remembered his conversations with Dorota, full of tension, gentle exploration, and growing closer. With Anna, it was completely different. Everything happened very quickly and seemed limitless. At first, Barwik didn't like the feeling of not being in full control of the situation. Anna talked a lot, but she also asked a lot of questions. Barwik hadn't even realized it, and he'd already told her how bored he was with his job, how he'd always dreamed of becoming a writer, and even about Dorota... Anna listened attentively, but impatiently. She often interrupted him, trying to guess what he was going to say. She laughed a lot, and what seemed to amuse her most was Barwik's embarrassment, when she surprised him with her directness, which at times bordered on vulgarity.

They left the restaurant before eleven. It was almost warm for a September night. The sidewalks, the road, the shop windows—everything gleamed with the damp mist hanging in the air. The yellow-gray light of the streetlamps dispersed in the misty space. The sidewalks were empty, and cars occasionally rolled cautiously along the streets. They walked side by side. Barwik wondered for a moment whether to take her hand or not... Suddenly he laughed.

"What's the matter?" Anna asked.

"I see you've already gotten rid of your bird ornament?" Barwik pointed to her coat.

"What?... Oh yes. Disgusting little bird..."

They walked side by side in silence for a moment. Well, yes, Barwik thought, "It's early days in a relationship; silence can still be awkward." This thought calmed him, and he decided not to force anything. He looked at her sideways. She walked with small, energetic steps that gave the impression of haste, even though they were moving at a more leisurely pace. The heels of her boots beat out a steady rhythm, but it almost instantly dissolved in the muffled fog.

He looked at her slim figure, her hips, her legs, her profile, her hands tucked into her coat pockets, and wondered if it was possible that he no longer loved Dorota. Was it possible to love someone so much, then simply leave, forget, meet someone new, and what?... Fall in love again? When he held Dorota in his arms, after she had, for some reason, cried in his presence for the first time, he couldn't imagine a world without her. And here he was, walking beside a woman he still practically didn't know how to describe what he felt in that moment. What he would feel when they kissed goodbye... If they kissed... And if it was goodbye. He thought about how much he had been fooled. He had believed, despite all the rationalism that seemed to guide all his life's decisions, that love could be one, great, forever. And then he simply left...

"God!" Anna suddenly cried in a choked voice. She clung to Barwik, her face contorted with fear. She froze, her hand clutching the lapel of Barwik's jacket, staring at the two dark figures, crouched in the shadow of the dumpster. It took Barwik a moment to recognize them as a pair of large dogs. The dogs were remarkably similar. Large, massive bodies with long, matted, dark brown fur. The dogs crouched, motionless. One looked to the side. The other stared at Barwik and Anna with a fixed gaze—though Barwik could only guess at this, as the dogs' fur fell over their eyes, obscuring them. "Oh God!" Anna repeated. She was trembling. Barwik was surprised that she was so frightened of the dogs. "Don't be afraid," he said in a hushed voice. "They won't hurt us."

Anna didn't seem to hear him. She clung to him in a mad spasm of fear. For a moment, it seemed to Barwik that Anna was ready to flee in panic. Gradually, Anna's fear began to spread. He looked around for a possible defense, but fortunately, it proved unnecessary. The dogs, as if on some signal only they could hear, broke into a run, and a moment later their powerful silhouettes vanished into the darkness of the night.

For a moment, they stood huddled together, as if afraid the dogs might return at any moment. Barwik quickly calmed down. He looked at Anna. She was still trembling. He hugged her even tighter and said, trying to keep his voice light and relaxed.

"They're real dogs. I wonder what kind of idiot lets them wander around the city unattended. They look like the kind of beasts that would easily swallow a human for an evening snack...

" "That's not funny," Anna suddenly pushed him away. Anger was evident in her voice. Barwik looked at her in surprise.

"I'm sorry," he said, although he didn't really know what he was apologizing for.

For a moment, Anna looked at him almost with hatred. He didn't know what to do. But as suddenly as it had appeared, Anna's anger vanished.

"I'm sorry," she said in a flat, quiet voice that Brwik had never heard from her before. "I'm terrified of dogs. I don't like them, I hate them, and I'm afraid of them.

" "Unpleasant childhood memories?" Barwik risked a subtle hint of humor in his voice.

"No," Anna replied seriously. "I just don't like them.

" "I understand..." He didn't understand, but he decided it didn't really matter why Anna was afraid of dogs. Dorota was afraid of spiders and frogs; Anna was afraid of dogs. "They've gone away now, you're safe," he said, thinking it sounded strange.

"Yes," she smiled. "Now you have no choice.

" "I don't have any?"

"I can't stay alone tonight.

" "Right..."