The rain pounded the bus stop roof like great hailstones. The roar of cars and the clicking of a lady's heels completely drowned out my thoughts. Fortunately, they weren't so important that I couldn't forget them. Actually, they concerned only the terrible weather and the bearded man sitting next to me, engrossed in the latest issue of "Gazeta Wyborcza." He must be doing well, I thought, after examining the make and model of his cell phone, which was carelessly sticking out of his coat pocket. It was undoubtedly one of those phones that wouldn't be covered by my monthly allowance, or even my father's salary. The shimmering casing tempted me more than I might have thought.
Slowly, silently, I extended my right hand toward it. I was already quite experienced in this trade, so the sweat didn't drip off my hand like it had the first time I'd stolen someone else's property. I glanced at the bearded man out of the corner of my eye. He was more busy checking on the government's new data protection law than his cell phone. I gingerly grabbed the phone with two fingers. I was already mentally compiling a list of things I'd buy when I sold Rafał my latest acquisition...
The phone slowly slipped out of the bearded man's pocket, lifted by my nimble hand...
"Ah!"
In an instant, the phone was back in its place, and my hand was in my coat pocket. I felt my rage rise. Who had the nerve to interrupt me in such a precise maneuver?! I glanced around for the culprit. My angry gaze landed on a small girl in a red jacket standing directly in front of me, waving a colorful umbrella with a large, gap-toothed smile plastered on her freckled face.
"Hi!" the girl called, sitting down on the bench next to me.
Had she seen me trying to rob the bearded man? Probably not; she probably would have raised the alarm long ago. Although, the brat didn't seem like the type to immediately lash out at adults. I was lucky it was her, and not some shrill grandmother, who caught me red-handed. Still, the brat deserved a lesson, so I scoldingly pinched her skinny hand. The little one let out a high-pitched squeal and stared at me in surprise. "
Why did you pinch me?" she squealed, her lips curling into a horseshoe shape. The lack of a front tooth made her words whistling and razor-sharp. I didn't respond, figuring my role in raising the brat was over. Not at all, she didn't share my opinion. She immediately forgot the punishment I'd given her for preventing me from adding another hundred złoty to my fortune.
"I'm Laura," the little one chirped. She turned to me on the bench with a look on her face as if the fact that she'd told me her name would lift me off the ground with joy. Seeing no reaction from me, she made another feeble attempt to get my attention.
"But Mom calls me Laurka. She always calls me Laurka. She called me Laura, but she still calls me Laurka. Weird, isn't it? If she called me Laura, she should call me Laura, don't you think? But she still calls me Laurka. She always tells me I'm the most beautiful Laurka she's ever received. But I don't think so at all, because for Mother's Day I made her this pretty heart-shaped card, and I think she was prettier than me." I wrote "I love you, Mom," on it, and it turned out beautifully, because I can't write properly yet. But on this card, it turned out beautifully. My mom says I made a spelling mistake, because "I love you" is spelled with a "ch," and I wrote it with an "h." And that's why my mom says I should pay more attention in school. I'm really paying attention, but I'm only in first grade and I'm just learning how to write letters. And recently, we even started writing numbers...
My little one acted like we'd known each other for ages. After five minutes, I learned she could write all the numbers from zero to four, but not beyond that, because they wouldn't be doing five until Monday. That Marcie from the same class had a little brother born yesterday. That the music teacher taught them a song about a slipper bag. After telling them about the delicious lunches in the school cafeteria, I decided my little one had said too much. I cleared my throat significantly, but I didn't turn my head in her direction. I glanced briefly at the girl. She coughed a few times and began tapping her umbrella on the stone sidewalk. She acted as if she'd suddenly forgotten I was sitting next to her and that, moments before, she'd been passionately sharing details of her private life with me. She swung her legs slightly, dangling a few inches above the ground, and, coughing intermittently, she stared indifferently at a woman walking past with three dachshunds on leashes.
Laurka wasn't a pretty girl. Her face was covered in freckles, her nose was upturned, and her front teeth (one of which was missing) jutted out strangely, giving her the appearance of a small, freckled rabbit in profile. Her skin was unnaturally pale, creating an eerie contrast with her straight, black hair, which, braided in two braids, peeked out from under a red cap. Her eyes were also completely black. They looked as if someone had placed two lumps of brown coal under her eyelids, intending to completely darken her vision. Yet, despite this, two playful fires sparkled in the girl's eyes.
"And what's your name?" she said, tearing her gaze away from the shaggy mutt sniffing at a nearby trash can.
I jumped in my seat. I hadn't even noticed when the little girl started staring at me too. I didn't answer, just glared at an invisible point in front of me. But the little girl wasn't so quick to give up. She twisted around on the bench again and glared at me with a pretentious look.
"Mommy always tells me to answer questions. What's your name?" she repeated emphatically.
"Tomato soup..." I hissed, thinking that such an answer would throw her off a bit. But Laurka, instead of leaving me alone, just smiled and said in an amused voice,
"You're so funny!"
She fell silent for a moment, staring silently at my face, and then squealed happily,
"You have strange eyes! One blue, the other brown!"
I turned my head sharply. I really didn't like it when someone pointed out my differences. And it wasn't just about my two different eye colors, but also about my penchant for theft, which, thankfully, Laurka didn't know about yet.
The rain continued to fall stubbornly. A blue bus pulled up at the bus stop, advertising a new collection of jeans.
"Oh, that's my bus!" Laurka exclaimed. She grabbed her colorful umbrella and ran toward the bus.
I breathed a sigh of relief. However, at the bus door, Laurka stopped and, waving her hand at me, shouted, "
It was nice meeting you, Tomato Soup!"
A few seconds later, through the rear window of the bus, I saw a red cap driving away.
A few days later, I completely forgot about my unfortunate encounter with Laurka. My mind was occupied with other matters. That day, like every week, I was supposed to meet Rafał in the park and exchange the goods I'd recently acquired for money.
Rafał, as usual, was sitting on the same bench, wearing the same shiny jacket and the same expensive sneakers. As always, he didn't attract much attention. That was his job.
"Hi!" I said, tossing my bag next to him. "How's it going?"
"Bad," Rafał replied without enthusiasm. He nonchalantly lit a cigarette and blew a few smoke rings from his mouth. "The business is falling apart."
"You're exaggerating...
" "Marek was busted yesterday. Someone busted him.
" "You can't be serious!"
"Oh yes, they raided his basement and found the entire shipment we've been collecting over the last two months. So many cell phones... Luckily, Marek didn't rat me out, so we have a clean slate for now...
" "Good."
"Well, let's take e, two Discmans and one car radio." He examined each one carefully for several minutes, and with each passing minute, the smile on my face grew. I was certain I'd get a high reward for acquiring such a product. Honestly, I had to work hard to get it. The guy who had recently owned one of the Discmans chased me for half an hour before I finally managed to escape him. Meanwhile, the woman who owned one of the phones tried to spray me in the face with some strange gas she kept in her purse, but I dodged it so cleverly that it hit a man passing by.
"Well," Rafał finally spoke up. "That'll be about six cans, no more..."
"Six cans?!" I exclaimed, indignant. "For this kind of stuff, I should get at least a thousand zlotys, and you're telling me six hundred?! "
Relax, girl, you'll do better next time..." Rafał said calmly, raising his hands in a gesture of peace.
"Next time?! This was my good time! And besides, this…"
Suddenly, I felt a strong grip on my arm. The first thought that flashed through my mind was a hysterical cry: "Oh my God, they've caught us!" Fear completely paralyzed me. Rafał, too, apparently, because he stood there, mouth agape, staring at the figure behind me. It must have lasted only a second, but in my mind's eye, I already pictured a fat policeman uttering the traditional phrase: "You're under arrest. Anything you say can be used against you…" and my bleak future in the city jail. With a quick glance, I took in all my stolen belongings, now scattered across Rafał's lap. I quickly devised a desperate escape plan: I'd grab what I could and run home as fast as I could. I was about to throw myself into Rafał's lap when I heard a thin voice call out:
"Hi, Tomato Soup!"
I turned around. Yes, she was standing there. In an identical jacket, with the same red cap, and carrying a colorful umbrella.
"I'm so glad to see you!" cried little Laura, paying no attention to Rafał, who was glaring at me. "What are you doing? Is he your friend? What's his name? And where did you get so many phones? Even my mom doesn't have that many..."
Rafał scooped the phones and the rest of his belongings into my backpack with one hand.
"We'll talk another time," he said, and slowly walked away.
After a moment, I shrugged Laura's hand off my shoulder. Without looking at her, I stood up and, slung my backpack over one shoulder, slowly walked toward the center. I heard the quiet footsteps of her little feet behind me. The little one wouldn't give up. For a few minutes, I walked, pretending not to notice her presence. I kept hoping Laura would finally leave me alone. After fifteen minutes, I couldn't take it anymore.
"Will you ever leave me alone?" I shouted, turning to face her. "You keep following me around!
" "You're so loud..." Laura said. She acted as if she hadn't even noticed my outburst of anger. "Just like the janitor at school..."
"Leave me alone!" I growled, and ran off at a light jog. But after a moment, the little one caught up to me and, with her short legs, caught up with me.
"I'll show you where I live, okay?" She grabbed my hand, forcing me to stop running. "It's just around the corner..."
I glared at her, hoping it would intimidate her a bit. Nevertheless, Laurka continued to tug at my hand, leading me to her house, which she wanted to show me. I was tired enough already. I'd had enough of this child, and without even realizing what I was doing, I gave up. I allowed little Laurka to lead me to her house.
It was indeed just around the corner. It was dirty, unpainted, and smeared with vulgar graffiti. The front wall revealed hundreds of bare red bricks. The neglected garden was overflowing with weeds, unmown grass, and children's toys, which, overturned and damaged, looked as if they hadn't been touched in several years.
The front door must have been fifty years old. In the center of it were two deep grooves, plowed by a nail or something equally sharp.
Laurka deftly pressed the brass doorknob and pushed the door open firmly. The stench of fermented apples and cat urine immediately hit me. I tried to breathe through my mouth, but even then I started to feel nauseous.
Guided by Laurka's deft hand, I reached another door, which clearly led to her apartment. This one wasn't as badly damaged, but it still showed signs of long use. I went inside with the little one.
There was no stench here. Instead, the smell of boiled potatoes and fried cabbage drifted from the kitchen. Only then did I ask myself, "How could I have let myself be led to such a place?"
There was no wallpaper on the walls, and the floor was decorated with old, cracked tiles. Instead of a lamp, a single, flickering lightbulb hung above my head. I was utterly terrified. How could anyone live in such a house?
"Mommy, I'm back!" Laurka exclaimed, taking off her hat and leaning her umbrella against the wall.
"I'll serve you dinner in a moment, take off your clothes!" I heard a woman's voice. A moment later, a short woman with a bun on her head and an apron tied around her waist emerged from the kitchen. I couldn't guess
her age. Her face looked young, but the numerous wrinkles transformed her into an old woman in her sixties. I easily recognized her as Laurka's mother. They had the same black eyes and hair. "Oh!" Laurka's mother exclaimed, seeing me take off my shoes. "I see you've brought a friend..."
"This is tomato soup, Mommy!" Laurka said cheerfully, her hand grasping mine again.
"Tomato soup?" Laurka's mother asked in surprise. She looked at me closely, afraid I would soon turn into a red liquid with pasta and flood the entire apartment. "
Actually, my name is Julka..." I explained quickly.
"Okay, then, go play. Laurka, I'll serve dinner in a moment."
"Okay, Mommy, we'll play nice..."
Laurka's mother disappeared back into the kitchen, and Laurka herself led me to her room. Her room was completely different from any I'd ever seen. I didn't see a doll there, not a single teddy bear. Nothing to indicate that a little girl lived there. There was only a bed and a small table. The walls, like the rest of the house, were bare and dirty, the floor tiled, and a light bulb hung limply from the ceiling. Laurka jumped onto the bed, bounced a few times on the mattress, then sat on it, swinging her legs down. I decided it would be best if I did as she did, then sat down next to her.
We stayed like that for a moment. Laurka swung her legs, clearly contemplating something, and I sat stiffly. I couldn't believe I'd let myself be led to the house of some little, unknown girl. "
You lied to me," Laurka's voice broke the oppressive silence. I lifted my head and stared at the wall. "You said your name was Tomato Soup, but your real name is Julka." Her voice was full of reproach. "Mommy says you can't lie. Mommy also tells me you can't steal, and yet you tried to steal that man's phone at the bus stop."
This comment had the same effect on me as a rag to a bull. I tore my gaze from the wall and looked at it in surprise. I hadn't suspected that Laurka had actually noticed my attempted theft. Until then, I'd been convinced that a little child like her had no right to notice such a thing.
"How do you know I wanted to steal it from him?" I hissed.
"I saw it. You were taking it out of his pocket. And when I screamed, you stopped...
" "Laurka, come eat something!" Laurka's mother called.
The little girl got out of bed and ran out of the room. After a moment, I followed her.
"I have to go," I told Laurka, who was eating soup in the kitchen.
Laurka looked up from her soup and smiled broadly at me. Then she said to her mother:
"Because you know, Mommy, from today on, she'll be my best friend and she'll come to me every day!" After saying this, she put the spoon in her mouth and fell silent.
Laurka's mother looked at me in surprise and asked,
"Really?
No help anywhere. No one who could help me in such an embarrassing situation. Laurka thought I'd always come to her from now on! What was I supposed to do?!
Then I heard myself say,
"Yes, I will."
And I didn't even realize that in that moment my life had changed forever.
I was never a good child. I got bad grades in school, I never listened to my father at home, and in my first year of high school, I started stealing. Then I met Rafał. It seemed to me that I had embarked on a completely different path. Now I can't compare meeting Rafał to meeting Laurka.
Something told me I had to come to her every day, just as she wished. And I did. Once, if someone had told me they were friends with a seven-year-old girl, I would have considered it a sign of stupidity and madness. And now, despite my own feelings, she was delivering a long monologue. She simply recounted what was happening at school, what she did throughout the day, adding her own childish thoughts and reflections. During the first few days of visiting Laurka, I was seething with rage. I preferred to remain silent, so as to unleash a barrage of curses and my thoughts on the daily care of a child I didn't know. Every day, I told myself I had to stop and tell the little girl I had no intention of visiting her anymore. Then, gradually, things began to change.
I could see Laurka's joy when she saw me at the door. I noticed her engagement when she spoke to me. I don't know when I started telling her about myself. I slowly opened the pages of my dark life to her, and although I knew she didn't understand everything I was saying, I continued, and Laura listened calmly, absorbing every word like a great treasure. Now I know I wasn't saying it just for her, but also for myself, to finally unleash all my worries and troubles. Little Laura was the best listener I could ever meet. She listened and asked questions, and she was immensely pleased with each of my answers.
Mysteriously, I missed the moment Laurka's influence began to change me. My little one told me that, according to her mother, some of the things I did were wrong. That's why I don't know when the disgusting curse words disappeared from my vocabulary, and in my daily life, I unconsciously eliminated lies.
During one of my bus journeys, I met the bearded man through whom I met Laurka. The same cell phone was sticking out of his pocket, and he himself, once again, seemed oblivious to anyone reaching for it. I decided to seize the opportunity. Just as I had done then, I reached into his pocket, but before I could even touch the phone with my fingers, a small voice spoke in my head:
"Mommy also tells me you can't steal..."
I froze, my hand outstretched toward the bearded man. Laurka's words repeated a few more times, then faded away.
The bearded man looked at me, and upon seeing my hand level with his pocket, he snorted angrily and walked to the other side of the bus.
"God, what has this child done to me!" I thought. Only then did I begin to realize the enormous impact my friendship with Laurka had on me.
Before, I'd never thought about my behavior. I'd never wondered why I stole, why I was so obnoxious and rude to others. Then, on the bus, I realized I was terribly evil, and only that one word could fully describe me...
From that moment on, I listened intently to Laurka's words, believing they held great significance for me, telling me how I needed to change. Laurka talked about how she and her mom went to church every Sunday and always said the evening prayers on her knees. I don't think I'd ever been to church myself. My little one told me it was very ugly. I don't know why, but I started to believe her.
My friendship with Laurka changed me completely. I became happier and wiser. I stopped caring whether being friends with a little seven-year-old was normal or not. Laurka became part of my new life. I couldn't imagine living without my little one.
Until I learned that Laurka had leukemia.
I'd never felt such an emptiness inside. It was as if someone had suddenly emptied me. My entire world, which Laurka and I had spent six months building, lay in ruins, shattered by the deadly disease she suffered from.
That day, as usual, I went to her house. But when I entered the apartment, I didn't hear the delighted squeal Laurka made every day at the sight of me, nor any other sound.
"Hello!" I called, entering the kitchen. "Is anyone home?"
My cries were answered only by deafening silence. There was no one in the entire house. I suspected something must have happened, since Laura and her mother had disappeared so suddenly, leaving the door open. My suspicion was reinforced by the fact that Laura always impatiently awaited my arrival and would never have left the house if she knew I was coming to see her.
I stood in the hallway, visions of accidents and disasters that could have befallen Laura flashing through my mind. I had no idea how much time had passed before Laura's mother burst into the apartment.
She looked completely different than usual. Her bun was disheveled, and her purse was open. The cheerful smile that always greeted me had vanished from her face. I noticed her eyes, red from crying and puffy.
Only after a few moments did she notice me.
"I left the house unlocked... I'm so scatterbrained sometimes..." she said, taking off her coat and purse.
"Where's Laura?" I asked after a moment. I could have expected anything from her mother's red eyes.
Laura's mother sniffed and wiped her wet eyes.
"In the hospital. An hour ago, an ambulance took her away.
" "An ambulance...?" I repeated quietly. "But why, what happened to her?" I felt myself starting to lose control.
"You better go..." she whispered.
I don't know how I got home. I don't remember what happened to me for the next few hours. The knowledge that Laura was lying alone in some hospital was incredibly overwhelming. I felt even worse not knowing what was wrong with her. I had no idea what could have happened.
I sat in my room, motionless. I didn't know what to do with myself. I wanted to be as close to Laura as possible, but at the same time, I didn't want to know what was wrong with her. I was afraid she would leave me and I would be alone again.
At eight o'clock, the phone rang. It was Laura's mother.
"I'm sorry for what I said earlier," she began slowly. I remained silent, as if under a spell.
"I was very upset." Laurka fainted this morning and was taken away by ambulance. There's something you should know. She has leukemia.
I froze. Laurka's mother's next words didn't sink in. I stood there, holding the phone to my ear like a stone, unable to move. Leukemia, I thought. The word lit up in my head like a neon sign. Sudden fear gripped me. Leukemia? Is that what people die from? Does Laurka have leukemia?
"Julka? Are you there?" I heard a voice. That brought me back to reality. "I'm sorry you're hearing about this so late... I didn't want to tell you this. The doctors don't give her any chance now. To survive, she needs several donors of the same blood type, but her type is very rare, and we haven't been able to find anyone... the doctors don't give her any chance now. She would like to see you... could you come?" I heard her voice crack. I didn't know what to do. My ears were ringing. I'd memorized the hospital address, and then the phone dropped from my hand.
I couldn't comprehend what was happening. I'd lost touch with reality. The only thing I could think about was Laurka. All I could hear was the sound of my own running and my own panting. I passed streets, people, shops. I don't know how far I ran, but I'm sure it was the longest distance of my life. I didn't feel tired at all, I didn't even think about the pain in my muscles. I only knew I had to run and not stop.
I had no idea how much time had passed. I only remember that a large building suddenly appeared before me, and it was the hospital. I burst inside like a bomb. Panting loudly, I asked for Laurka's room number. A minute later, I was there.
Laurka had always been pale and thin. But now she was even paler and thinner. Her hair wasn't braided in two braids, but lay scattered across the snow-white pillow. Her eyes were closed.
I was afraid it was over, that I hadn't made it in time. There was no one in the room. I quietly approached the bed where Laurka lay. I heard a faint beeping. One of the computers showed her heartbeat. She was alive.
I grabbed her little hand. Someone had inserted a needle into the thin vein in her wrist and hooked her up to an IV.
Laurka had given me so much, and I had done nothing for her in return. I felt terrible. And now my little one was lying in a hospital bed, dying, and I couldn't do anything to help her. After all, I was older than her and should have been her rock and support. But it was quite the opposite.
Her mother entered the room. She stood on the opposite side of the bed and said,
"Ever since I heard that Laurka had leukemia, I've been trying to prepare myself for her death. To this day, I haven't succeeded." Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a tear roll down her cheek.
Suddenly, Laurka opened her eyes.
"Hi, little one..." I whispered, not letting go of her hand.
"Hi..." Laurka said silently.
"How are you feeling?
" "I think I'm fine... "
The little one looked at her mother, who was bursting into tears.
"Why are you crying, Mommy?" she asked weakly. She grabbed her hand with her other hand. "I told you everything would be alright... I'm not scared at all... you told me yourself I'd be fine in heaven..."
I squeezed her hand with all my might. I was afraid it would soon disappear.
"Juluś..." Laurka said quietly. "You won't steal anymore, will you?
" "No... I haven't stolen for a long time...
" "Oh, and one more thing... " "
Yes
?" "When the angels take me to heaven, will you... will you pray for me?"
I looked at her in despair. I felt my heart sink. I knew my life would die with her. Only then did I realize how much I loved her.
I nodded.
And then Laurka gave me her last smile.
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