Eric /part 3/

At the Lendzioszeks' they were just sitting down to a festive Christmas Eve meal. Mrs. Lendziosz, with a perm on her head, was pouring borscht onto her ears, singing to herself, "In the manger lies..." – Lendzioszek, his stomach churning, thought about eating as quickly as possible. Then there was a knock. "

Oh fuck, she's carrying someone just for Christmas Eve.

" Eryk stood in the doorway. He was pale and had strangely large eyes. Mrs. Lendziosz understood that something bad must have happened.

"Who?" she asked, just passing Eryk on the threshold.

"Grandma," he managed to choke out quietly.

Everyone ran. Mrs. Lendziosz first, followed by Eryk and Lendzioszek, and then a whole group of children.

"Maybe we need to get a doctor..." Mrs. Lendzioszek let herself be caught, or maybe she had no strength left. "

No doctor. Grandma is angry.

" "What's the point of anger? Illness doesn't choose. What about Grandma?

" "I don't know." Eryk shrugged and ran on.

Grandma Matylda didn't look her best. She was choking. Her pale cheeks took on a greenish tint, and she began to delirium.

"Cows by the forest, but hide the hammer, because they steal. Don't let the barred bats on the road—a car will run them over."

Lendzioszkowa blinked, bit her lip, and said.

"Write it down. A dying man's last words—holiness."

"When we don't have cows," Karolina helplessly spread her hands, "and the chicken too."

"It doesn't matter," she shouted. "Write it down!"

In all the confusion, no one could find a piece of paper or anything to write with. Finally, Zuzka brought a tape recorder. The grandmother continued.

"The girls have coats in the closet, Eryk's shoes will fit Zuzka, the same size. Cucumbers in the basement. Krysia, buy some flour; the prices are supposed to go up. Remove the cobwebs in the corners, but don't kill the spider, because that's bad luck. Don't feed the dog hot food." Because she'll be furious.

After recording two hour-long cassettes, my grandmother sighed, and it seemed to everyone that this was her last sigh.

Meanwhile, Mrs. Lendzioszkowa had dozed off and now began to fiddle with the tape recorder.

"Not here, you'll erase it," Karolina urged her. "

Take back the last sentence, what you said, in the last..."

Grandma Matylda Nagrabska's will read: "Drink plum compote. Plum compote is good."

News of Grandma Matylda's death spread quickly through the village. Neighbors began arriving. Women in black scarves, men with gloomy expressions, smoked cigarettes outside. Aunt Alina finally arrived with a strange, somewhat delirious smile on her face. She bowed to everyone, looking around the apartment as if for the first time.

"Will there be dancing? It's so crowded. What happened to that lady? Why is she still sleeping?" – she asked, pointing at her grandmother.

"My sister is in great shock," Lendzioszkowa stated. "A person, faced with the ultimate, talks all sorts of nonsense."

Doctor Wszędyrówny whispered something in his aunt's ear. They left immediately. He didn't want everyone to know about the recurrence of his illness. Ever since his aunt moved out of the Kowalik house, her memory had stopped working. She didn't recognize anyone. In the people she met, she saw long-awaited figures from the past, perhaps even figures who had never existed. She sat at the window all day, asking questions. "What's that? What's that for?" She didn't understand the simplest things. She didn't know what a car was or what it was for. She was afraid of cats and birds. She called the doctor himself "Rafałku"—even though his name was Władysław. That evening, Doctor Wszędyrówny heard of Grandma Nagrabska's death and thought that the sight of her dead body would help his aunt's memory recover. It was a bad diagnosis.

The men outside the house were talking about stars. Professor Szczubełek, opening his mouth, exhaled thick clouds of smoke as if an unextinguished cigarette were burning inside him. He spoke so convincingly that they listened to him like an oracle.

"There," he pointed at the starry sky, "everything is written there. Every day and every hour. And even if you shat yourselves on each other, you can't undo what's written there."

"Destiny...fuck," Lendzioszek sighed.

"That's right," the professor continued. "That's fate. The more I look at it, the more I begin to understand it all. Nagrabska's last hour had come, and although she was as healthy as a horse, she had to die. A higher power. Oh, that star, next to that star, and on the other side those three. Death as if painted."

They all followed the professor's finger and couldn't understand how he knew all this. Why did the stars seem like only points of light to them, but he could read them like a book.

"Stars...fuck," Lendzioszek sighed once more. "

Oh, neighbor, be careful. They hear everything," the professor threatened Lendzioszek. "

So what if they hear?"

"They can be vindictive. If you cross the stars, brother, you're doomed. Take Napoleon. He was born under a lucky star, and it guided him his entire life. Although he was a connoisseur, he rose to great office. He declared himself Emperor of the French. That's what a lucky star can do. If it weren't for the stars taking offense at him, he would have won every battle in a landslide.

" "Oh, all of them. Eventually, he would have gotten bored with winning, and he would have lost anyway. I don't believe in any stars or fate. I, Piórkowski, tell you that. I've never looked at any stars in my life, and yet, praising God, I'm lucky." "

He wore a wolf a few times..." Szczubełek laughed. "For a time, everything has a time."

The women gathered in the apartment were praying the rosary for the repose of the departed soul. When Lendzioszkowa, sitting closest to her, exclaimed, "Jesus Mary!" instead of "Our Father!" Leonikowa gently nudged her elbow. "

What kind of prayer is that?"

"Jesus Mary," Lendzioszkowa repeated.

"No, probably the 'Our Father,'" Gałązkowa said nervously. "What, neighbor, have you forgotten your rosary?"

"I, I, I..." Lendzioszkowa began to stammer.

"What's the matter with you?" the others asked from behind.

"An eye," Lendzioszkowa said.

After saying "eye," she approached her grandmother and began staring at her. "

She opened one eye." Lendzioszkowa spoke as if she couldn't believe it herself.

"It's normal," Choinkowa reassured her. "The deceased still moves for a while after death. Their muscles cool down. My father drank some tea when he died."

"What do you mean, tea?"

"Normal. And what do you think, a dead person doesn't want to drink?" He drank some tea, looked at us, and died again. "

You're babbling, neighbor!"

"While I'm sitting here."

When Grandma Matylda opened her eyes and raised her head, the Christmas Tree Lady leaned over her and asked in a calm voice.

"Would you like some tea?"

Then she turned to the terrified women and said, "I told you so."

Grandma, meanwhile, had stood up for good. She looked around the kitchen, saw the tearful neighbors, and shrugged. For a long time she didn't say anything, only when men started arriving from the yard did she sigh and say,

"What kind of people? You can't even die in peace."

As the angry neighbors were returning home, Lendzioszek caught up with Professor Szczubełek and asked loudly, so everyone could hear,

"What, what, is written in the fucking stars, fucking destiny..."

The professor looked up at the starry sky again and spoke somewhat philosophically. "

Death happens every day, but resurrection, Mr. Neighbor, only from time to time. Even the stars don't know about it. A higher power."

Eryk couldn't understand what had happened. It was too complicated. Grandma Matylda was stronger than death? Was it even possible for someone, such a person, to die and then be resurrected? Or maybe where Grandma went after death, there was no room for her, and they ordered her to return? Maybe Grandpa Teoś had something to do with it? The next day, when the house had become somewhat quiet, Eryk approached Grandma and asked.

"Grandma..."

He waited for a moment for her to break away from the wires and glare at him

. "What?" she finally took a deep breath.

"You can tell me something."

"I can. Get some decent work done."

"Where were you?"

"Where was I?

" "Well, how did you die..."

Grandma looked out the window. An unfamiliar gentleness appeared in her eyes.

"In the meadow."

"In the meadow?"

"I don't know if I should mention this, maybe it's a sin? Whatever... I'll tell you. Imagine a wonderful meadow, green, full of flowers, illuminated by the sun, fragrant. That's where I was.

" "Alone?

" "I saw your father.

" "Whole?

" "What about in pieces?" He looked completely healthy.

"Does that mean nothing happened to him? Maybe that train didn't run him over at all. Did he say anything?"

"There were tons of other people around, I wanted to go to them, but I couldn't. Do you understand? I felt so good, I felt young, healthy, I didn't want to go back."

"So why did you come back? "

"An angel flew in." "Did he chase

you away?

" "You're stupid." He was very polite. He kissed my hand. It must have been someone important. He was in a tailcoat. He told me it wasn't time yet.

" "Not time? What does that mean?

" "I don't know. Unless it's not time for me." He came up and said, "Mrs. Nagrabska, it's not time yet." And he flew away.

"That's all?"

"And when he was up there, he shouted, 'Take care of Eryk. He's a good-for-nothing, a lazy bum, and a disbeliever. Don't spare him the belt.'" The whole sky shook with laughter. "

That's not true. You weren't in any meadow. You were here all the time. You weren't in any meadow..."

When the grandmother looked out the window after Eryk, running out, saw him crying, and felt joy. She had never managed to bring him to such a state; no beatings, no punishments had ever brought tears to his eyes. Now she had succeeded. She knelt before the images and began whispering the words of prayer. From time to time, she glanced out the window and smiled mysteriously. When she was beginning a novena to Our Lady of Kodeń, she heard footsteps. Eryk had returned.

"I know everything," he shouted at the top of his voice. "

I'm praying. Can't you see?"

"I know you hate me. All your life you dreamed of a son, but you gave birth to only daughters. Until Grandpa died, and that was it."

"What are you babbling about? Calm down. Who told you such nonsense?"

"You hate me out of jealousy because my mother gave birth to me. You, you hate everyone. Because of you, my mother's head is broken, because of you, my aunt..."

"Get out immediately!"

The old woman rose from her knees and showed Eryk the door. She was shaking like an aspen before an approaching storm.

"Alina told you a lie, huh? A crazy old woman. God punished her. You'll see, if you keep saying such things, God's hand will reach you too."