Grześ (from Ercep's block)

"Grześ is walking through the village, carrying a bag of sand. Two sticks, four blankets, he'll be sleeping in the forest tonight.

Hi, this is Grześ. I'm not home because I went to the forest. Leave a message after the beep. Beep.

Beep.

"Hi, Grześ, this is Jarek. If you're home, be a good boy and pick up the phone, I have an urgent matter.

" "Well?" My right hand, sending no signal to my brain, which, if it had received such a signal, would have categorically forbidden it, picked up the phone.

"Are you there? Are you back from the forest?

" "No. I'm still in the forest, and in my place I've put the big bad wolf, who, having eaten Little Red Riding Hood, started speaking with a human voice." I was angry that he'd torn me from one of my fantastic dreams.

"Don't be silly. Grześ?" he asked uncertainly.

"Of course it's Grześ, but who?" He surprised me sometimes, he really did.

"I don't know... anyway, I have a question for you.

" "Yes, I know, urgent." Jarek once witnessed an accident. He saw two corpses and from then on, he erased from his vocabulary all words that in any way associated him with death. He never used the expressions "deadly serious," "deadly pale," "gallow humor," and so on. Now, as I see, he's also added "urgent matter."

"I have a friend .

" "That's great," I said, pleased.

"I'm not calling to brag about having a friend," he said, "I'm calling because this friend has a problem.

" "That's not so great," I tried to seem interested.

"Exactly. Well, Kasia, a great girl by the way, moved in with this little brat—Wiktor or Witold, I don't remember. And he's really messed with her head." I'm telling you, the girl he's been ripping her apart for the past two years has turned out to be a different person.

"Oh, really?" I said, a "conversation starter" I'd picked up from American movies.

"Well," he said, clearly pleased with my interest, "but FORTUNE," he emphasized, squeezing the syllables through his teeth, "Kasia has come to her senses and is seeking help. You see, she's so twisted she can't even face people on her own. She's been going to courses and psychiatrists to get the dominoes in her head straight, but the point is, that's where it all started. She was normal, that spider sent her to courses that were supposed to make her a modern woman, and now she's looking for "professional" help again to make her a backward woman. That's why I think it's not the best idea. Besides, no one runs courses for "backwardness," you can't even buy self-help books on the subject, which surprised me, because I thought they'd written a guide for every situation. Psychiatrists after psychiatrists kept trying to squeeze money out of her, telling her it was all because of her difficult childhood, and that Kasia lived like a beehive as a child – a small, warm house, a family like honey, and all her stings buried.

"Okay, what about me?" I started to have a vague feeling that Jarek wasn't calling just to tell me the story of sad Kasia.

"Well, I was just thinking that you, as a psychologist friend, could help her.

" "I'm not a psychologist, I'm just learning.

" "That's better, because without a diploma, an office, and a couch, you're not that crazy yet.

" "Listen, Jarek, it's nice that you trust me so much, whatever you mean by 'not crazy,' but this probably isn't the best idea.

" "Why?" he said, genuinely surprised.

"Because I've been studying for seven years! Seven! And I'm only in my fourth year." I got angry because he knew it well and forced me to say it out loud.

"That's great," he said, pleased. "That's even more than great.

" "Great?" "I guess Kasia isn't the only one who needs help here.

" "Sure! Take those who finish their studies on time. What do they get out of it? They come, they get the material, they study, they pass, another exam, another pass, and then—off to the next year. They study again, another exam, another year, another exam, and that's it. What will stay in their heads if they storm through these studies? You're a different story—slowly, carefully, every year twice. It's logical that if you study something for two years and they study for one, then you know twice as much as they do.

" "I don't know." I had some doubts about this "logic."

"You'll see, it'll be alright. Kasia will call you soon. I have to go. Bye."

Of course, how quickly he hung up. And what now? I'm such a psychologist, like Kulczyk's ascetic. How am I supposed to get out of this?"

- A white teddy bear for a girl - but I sing well - I bought it and went to the name day party - I have a good bass too - When I get back and recover, I'll call you back - the secretary finished "verbally" - Pip.

"Good morning, this is Kasia. I got this number from Jarek...

" "Kasia." I stopped making my lemon-vitamin "detox" after last night's party and picked up the phone. "Yes, I know, Jarek told me about you.

" "Could I...could I come over?" I'd like to talk, but I didn't have an appointment.

" "It doesn't matter, I'm not a dentist at a public clinic. Where do you live? I'll tell you how to get here.

" "Sunny 12.

" "Well, then, dear Kasia, you don't even have to wear a beret, because we live in the same building. Jarek didn't mention it, but it doesn't matter. Wait a minute—something occurred to me—are you by any chance the blonde on the third floor with the pink braids?" "You are, you are, you are!

" "I'm not.

" "That's a shame." "Did I say that or just think it?

" "I'm sorry I disappointed your expectations." "Oh, so I did."

"It's nothing, don't worry, I just asked," I lied with natural ease. "Besides, you wouldn't be the first," I sighed. "Well, whatever. Come down here to my place, I live on the second floor, at number fourteen," I said, squeezing out the last remnants of optimism that had lingered inside me like yesterday's beer, and I quickly rushed to make the bed.

"Good morning," a petite blonde stood on the doorstep. She would have been quite nice, if it weren't for her clothes, stiff as the collar of a Giertych shirt.

"Hi, come in," I said, discreetly kicking a pair of trousers lying in the middle of the floor into the corner of the hallway.

"What would you like to drink?" I asked, trying to put all my charm into the question, and at the same moment, I tripped over my shoes. Oh, damn, as usual, when I see a woman, I lose my balance. Both the inner and the outer one.

"Mineral water, please, preferably still, because bubbles are unhealthy," she tactfully pretended not to notice my desperately flailing arms, trying to find balance.

"What kind of pub am I?" I asked, angry at how stupid I'd sounded at first. "Mineral water, still, healthy," I mentally mocked her. The thin remnants of my mother's upbringing, hanging on a thin thread, stopped me from saying it out loud. Instead, trying to be polite, I said

, "Dear Kasia, something like mineral water hasn't made it to the humble threshold of my fridge for several years now. But instead, I can offer you Fanta or beer, because those two drinks are permanent residents.

" "Well, maybe I'll have a Fanta." It was obvious that drinking the orange-colored, unhealthy bubbles was costing her a fortune. I opened the fridge.

"Uh, Kasia?" It just turned out that Fanta had temporarily moved out, and only her friend was left.

- But it's only ten o'clock, I don't know if...

- Lesson number one - I said, handing her the bottle - there's never a bad time for a beer.

I guess she wasn't entirely convinced, so I stood in the middle of the room and, striking a theatrical pose (at least in my opinion), recited: "

It's always the right time for a beer

. Your friends and the whole family will tell you.

Whether the sun shines or the rain slams,

drink beer to your health, if not Balbina.

" She laughed. I don't know if it was because of the meaning of the poem or my poor poetic skills.

"So where do we start?" she asked. "Should I lie down here?"

I looked at the bed. I can't stand it. Well, I can't stand it. The girl calls me first, apologizes for wanting to come over without an appointment, comes to me without me telling her the bullshit about stamps, and ten minutes later asks if she should lie down. Someone pinch me, because I think I'm dreaming. Or NO! No, no, no. Nobody pinch me, because if this is a dream, I don't want to wake up. Well, yes, but this isn't a dream, and I have to react somehow now.

I shook myself out of my reverie and did what I always did in these (very rare) situations. I looked at her as manly as I could and asked,

"So, how about we go for a walk?"

And so we went. She in what seemed like uncomfortable, yet very fashionable shoes, and I, looking like Żwirek the Toadstool next to her.

I was as angry as fans after a Cracovia match. I was angry at Jarek for getting me involved, at myself for agreeing to this, when I could be warming my ass in warm sheets and resting after last night's party, at her for even having any problems, at the little fly that's stuck in my eye and fidgeting so much... wait, what fly?

"You got something in your eye. Why aren't you saying anything, just walking around with that red eye?" "Kasia asked, leaning towards me. "Stop, don't wiggle like that, I can't pull it out

." "Aaaaaaa

." "Stop, it's just a fly

." "Aaaaaa

." "Stop, it doesn't hurt at all.

" "Aaah, it stings, stings, stings." Like any real man, I was sensitive to my health.

"It'll stop when I pull it out. What are you yelling about?

" "Because you're poking my eye with the tissue

." "I have to. Guys," she sighed, putting the tissue away. "Like children, really. I'll keep it in case anything else happens to you. What are you doing standing there? It's over.

I was offended. Or rather, she had offended my male pride. I decided to stop talking to her until she realized it was pointless and went home. After fifteen minutes of walking in silence, I seemed to have achieved my goal, because Kasia turned toward our apartment building. I was only a dozen or so meters away from the long-awaited peace and quiet of my own apartment when I came across Iwona Ercep at the door of our building.

"Hey Kasia, Grzesiu, what are you two doing together?"

Since I didn't know what to answer, I decided to attack.

"And you?

" "Me?" he said, surprised. "Not together, I'm alone, as you can see."

Well, I've made a fool of myself again. What line was I standing in when God was handing out brains? What line was I even standing in back then, since I wasn't in the one for strength, or courage, or brilliance, or humor, or manliness, or cunning, or resourcefulness, or memory, or charm, or talent, or even balance? Where the hell was I anyway, when God was handing out anything else?

" "He probably wanted to ask where you were going?" Kasia explained for me.

"Oh, to the post office, to pay Iwonka's bills. Maybe you'll come with me?

" "Do you know that's a good idea?" Kasia brightened. "I need to buy some new shoes, so we'll stop at the store on the way, and then we'll go to the post office."

"Let's go then," Jędrek said happily. Sure, it's easy for him to be happy because he's programmed to be a woman's dream. After all, no sane man can survive dragging a woman through shops. Unless he's cornered, but willingly? Excuse me?

I was turning to sneak into the stairwell when I felt Jędrek's large hand on my shoulder.

"Where are you going, Grzesiu? The shop is that way." He smiled sweetly and changed my direction in one movement.

And so we went. Right at the entrance, saleswomen pounced on us: "Maybe this" "Maybe that" "Offer" "Discount" "Promotion" "Shot." I hate shops, and if it weren't for the fact that you have to wear something, and the things you like wear out surprisingly quickly, I wouldn't even know the names of the shops in my city.

Meanwhile, we were unexpectedly left alone, because the saleswomen, seeing Jędrek's feet, had called the boss over and, now surrounding him tightly, admired his fins.

I felt sorry for Kasia, who stood alone, looking helplessly around the stacks of boxes.

"Come on, I'll help you," I said despite myself, tugging on her hand.

Fifteen minutes later, we were leaving the store. I, exhausted as if after a final exam, Kasia, smiling, clicking her new shoes, and Jędrek, ecstatic, with a movie star expression.

"You know what? That was actually pretty cool. Maybe we should go somewhere else?" he suggested, and even my murderous glare didn't stop him.

"We can," Kasia chimed in. "Here, let's go!" she shouted, disappearing behind a door adorned with red stars.

We followed her inside. It was a nightmare in broad daylight. Suddenly, I found myself among a thousand racks of hanging clothes on wheels, filled with every kind of underwear imaginable. With one that a person cannot imagine, too.

"Oh, I was here once with Iwonka. Come on, I'll show you something." Jędrek grabbed my hand and pulled me toward what looked like bathrobes.

"Hello gentlemen," the shop owner suddenly appeared before us, as if out of nowhere. "What can I do for you today?"

"We..., um..., we just..., um..." I felt like I was in second grade and Mom caught me passionately looking at a picture of my cousin in a swimsuit.

"Please relax," the owner smiled familiarly and looked meaningfully at our joined hands. "We're open to customer needs. There's nothing to be ashamed of, really. After all, it's the twenty-first century, Poland is in the EU..." Come on," he gently pushed us deeper into the shop, "take a look around. Maybe I can help? I've been in business for twenty years, so I can offer advice. It's true that customer expectations have changed a bit now," he winked at me, "but flexibility is our motto." I'd say we're as elastic as our tights," he laughed at his own joke. "So which of you gentlemen is, so to speak, the lady?"

Surprised by this turn of events, I couldn't get a word out. Jędrek, on the other hand, who, as it turned out, had understood the salesperson's question as "which gentleman is with you," meaning Kasia, helpfully pointed at me.

"That's great," the owner said, for some reason happy, "follow me. "

I followed the salesperson like a calf. I was in a trance, while he was snapping his little mouth

. "Tell me," he turned to Jędrek, "what do you like most in a partner?

" "You mean Grześ?" Jędrek asked. Well, he didn't understand what was going on at all.

"I like him because he's cool, and when he sometimes invites me over, we stay up late at night," he said, and I rolled my eyes at him. "I feel like he really understands me, and when we're together, my whole world spins before my eyes, and I'm so happy, I'm constantly laughing and I feel so light and... and... the world is a better place. I would do anything to make evenings like this happen more often," he concluded, looking deep into my eyes.

I was just thinking about how I was going to kill him as soon as we left that damned shop when it suddenly dawned on me what he was talking about. Sometimes I invited him over for a beer, and we would actually stay up late, talking about everything that went through our peasant heads. Jędrek's artificial organism reacted to alcohol in a "spiky" way, so to speak, and Andrzej would go mental after one beer, just like I did after about five. He laughed devilishly, rolled on the floor, told dirty jokes, and threw pillows at me like a high school girl. No wonder he enjoyed it so much.

Well, yes, I knew what Jędrek was talking about, but the problem was, the owner didn't.

"Yes," he cleared his throat, now smiling to himself, "you talk very nicely about spending time together, but I was more referring to what kind of underwear you like...

" "Underwear?" Jędrek thought for a moment. "I was here once with Iwonka, and she was buying this one set...

" "With Iwonka? So you're 'bi'," the owner said in a tone as if he repeated the phrase ten times a day. "That's great. So maybe you could show me what set it was? If you want it for your partner too, of course...

" "For Grześ? Why not. I like giving people gifts.

Gifts. I like gifts when you have to pay for them yourself." Still in a trance, I took out the money and handed it to the cashier. I automatically took the bundle and headed for the door; I only calmed down in the fresh air.

"Phew, that was nice," a laughing Kasia jumped out of the store. "I could go there every day."

I looked at her grimly.

"What do you have there?" "

Nothing, it's for you," I said, thrusting the package into her hands. After all, why do I need a black set with red hearts?

"Really?" She beamed and started unwinding the wrapping paper

. "No! Don't open it! Not now." I just realized what I'd given to a girl I'd known for about five hours.

"But why? I want to see.

" "You can't now, because... we're going in here," I said, and pushed her through the door nearest us. And then darkness fell...

"Where are we?" Kasia asked, terrified.

"Maybe we're lost?" Jędrek said

. "Ask and you'll find, wander and you'll find," a booming voice suddenly said, somewhere high above our heads.

I felt Kasia grip my hands in panic. Wait, she was standing on my right, so how is she holding both of my hands?

Angrily, I snatched my hand away from Jędrek.

"Don't panic," I said, pointing to a barely visible sign made of Christmas tree lights at the back of the room. "We're at the fortune teller's." "

Didn't I tell you?" cheered the voice from upstairs. "Ask and you'll find out, I've already got one thing right. Go ahead, the door to the right, behind the advertising sign.

Advertising sign? Surely she doesn't mean those crooked letters made of half-burnt light bulbs?

" "What are you standing there for?" Go ahead.

It looked like she probably did, because I couldn't see any other entrance. I decided to take a chance and grabbed the doorknob. The door creaked like something out of an old horror movie.

"Come on in, come on in," said the still-unseen fortune teller. I was slowly starting to believe in magic.

"Oh my, what happened here?" Kasia asked, as small bottles, wands, talismans, and figurines were scattered all over the floor.

"Don't worry," said the fortune teller, emerging from behind a green curtain adorned with large gold stars. "I had a fight with my husband and got a little carried away. "

"So fortune tellers have husbands?" Kasia asked, surprised.

"What, are they supposed to date ghosts? A fortune teller is also a woman," the fortune teller said, adjusting her, er, attributes to what I considered a size D. "Go ahead, skip ahead, it's clear here. So who do we start with? "

I felt a hand nudge me forward.

"I take it you mean 'from me,'" I said reproachfully at the two standing behind me.

"It was your idea," Kasia said by way of excuse and sat down on the couch. Jędrek, emboldened, quickly took a seat next to her.

"Then you sit here," the fortune teller said, gesturing to me to a seat near the round table. I carefully sat down on the brocade chair.

"You can resist, it's imported material, it doesn't fall apart," the fortune teller reassured me. "So what do we have here?"

She looked at the cards and then at me. She stared at me for so long that I finally began to doubt if it was a rhetorical question. Maybe I should tell her now, 'What do we have here?' I don't know, I've never been to fortune tellers...

" "Yes," the woman began, looking at the cards again, "I see you're a man of science...

" No, that one sentence should discredit her. I could get up and leave now, because you can't call someone who hasn't finished a single school in seven years a man of science. However, I decided to stay for Kasia and her package, hoping that after all this, she'd forget she got anything from me and I'd avoid embarrassment. So I sat politely and pretended to be incredibly interested in what the cards were saying.

"Lots of schooling behind you, oh so many," the fortune teller said, and Kasia looked at me approvingly. That would be more or less accurate, because I was expelled from one elementary school and two high schools, which, combined with my studies, makes six schools. But luckily, the fortune teller didn't say that.

"You've spent a lot of years studying, son." That's also true. I'm 29 and I've been studying since I was seven. She just forgot to add that I often study the same thing twice.

"And you'll spend a lot more." "No, does that mean I'll fail another year? I think I'll hang myself.

" "It'll pay off. As a man of science, you'll connect your life with your university.

" "I always thought I'd connect my life with a woman..."

"I'm talking about a career, donkey," the fortune teller said warmly, like a mother figure. "We'll talk about women later. You'll tie your professional life to the university; I can tell you it will accompany you until the end of your days." "Oh, great. I'll probably study until I grow old and die one sunny day at the age of 78 during one of my exams. And knowing my bad luck, that will be the last exam after which I'll finally receive my diploma. If anything, I'll have to ask Jarek to stick this diploma on my grave instead of a glass picture.

" "Now it's about women," the fortune teller said slowly and clearly. Probably so I could understand. "Well, there were plenty of girls in your life too." She looked at me meaningfully. Sure. She just forgot to add that there were a lot of them, not because I'm picky, but because none of them lasted longer than two weeks with me. Women these days don't like guys who are helpless and don't want to run in the rat race, or whatever the saying goes. The days of guys in baggy sweaters, whose palms sweat and voices tremble with nerves when talking to a pretty girl, are over. Nobody wants a guy who trips over his shoes when he's impressed by a girl, listens to songs recorded 15 years ago, wants to wait more than a week for his first date, and doesn't worry about driving an older, smaller Fiat, orange to boot. Girls used to flock to an honest guy—now they run away after two weeks because they know they'll never "get anywhere" with an honest one.

I shook myself. This isn't the place or time to get sentimental. I have to listen to what the fortune teller tells me now, because if she says "and there will be more," I'll really break down. Although what else can I expect?

"Yes..." the fortune teller mused. "It seems..." "Well, let her finally say it. Why is she tormenting me so much? For what?" "...it seems that will change soon. Or rather, it already has." You've met your soulmate, my dear," she smiled broadly. "You can still feel the touch of her hand in yours." "What, her? I was holding Jędrek's hand recently! That can't be true, I never, well, I don't have that kind of fun. Does that mean no woman will ever want me and I'll be left with Jędrek? Is that how I end up?"

The fortune teller was still talking, but I wasn't listening very well. In fact, I wasn't listening at all. When I somehow realized she'd finished, I stood up, and Kasia took my place.

"I'll wait for you outside," I said, and headed for the door.

"Wait, are you feeling alright?" Jędrek looked at me with concern. How could he?

"Sure, I just want a smoke." I've never smoked, but a while ago I figured it was a very simple way to take a break, be alone, or politely withdraw from somewhere—whichever was needed.

"Oh, well, go ahead. We'll be there in a moment," he reassured himself.

I went outside and started looking for a place to sit. I'd never liked to think on my feet (which would explain my bad answers at the blackboard), and now I wanted to think things over calmly. Finally, I spotted a small bench in the square, a few meters from the fortune teller's salon. I walked there, dragging my legs heavily behind me.

I sat down and started thinking. I tried to make sense of it all. Because really, if women don't want guys like me anymore, who's left for me? Men? Neither, because I'm not 'trendy.' I don't listen to 'trendy' music, I don't dress 'trendy,' and generally, I'm about a decade behind the times, so I guess gender doesn't matter. Neither girls nor guys want someone who can't adapt to the demands of "modernity." So, a guy like me who prefers the sound of a guitar to a keyboard, constantly eats jam sandwiches for breakfast instead of healthy cereal, and chooses a smoky pub over a techno disco is doomed to loneliness? Or Jędrek, who doesn't care what anyone thinks of him because he doesn't know he should care, and that's the only reason he hasn't been contaminated by 'trendy' civilization yet? Am I really that crazy? Just because I want to walk around town with a girl, holding her hand, instead of sticking it up her skirt on the first date? Surely there must be someone like me somewhere. Or at least someone who would want someone like me. Kasia also tried the "modern" route and didn't like it. She lasted two years and now she doesn't want it. Kasia... I closed my eyes.

"Are you coming?" I heard suddenly, and I looked up. I saw Katarzyna standing over me, smiling. "We're done."

I closed my eyes again. Kasia moved over, blocking the sun.

"I don't want you to go blind looking at me like that," she smiled again. "Maybe from beauty, yes, that's entirely desirable, but not from the sun. Are you coming?" She extended her hand to me.

I slowly stood up. I straightened my already stretched sweater and took her hand.

We went for a walk around the city.