Mr. Władek's Dog Life

 

I sat on the veranda, smoking a pipe. The view of the May garden unfolded before my eyes. The lush green grass, freshly mown, exuded a beautiful fragrance. The fresh green birch leaves blended perfectly with its white bark. The sun warmed the air, and cumulus clouds slowly rolled across the blue sky. They occasionally obscured the sun's disc, making the air crisp. Birds hopped among the birch branches, straining their tiny throats to produce the most beautiful chirping. Everything seemed to be just for me.

I struck the pipe with my open hand to shake out the ash and remnants of tobacco. But suddenly, I smelled a wonderful aroma in the air. My hand froze... Gingerbread? Cheesecake?! Sponge cake!! No! It was... apple pie...

Hypnotized by the scent, I set off. I adjusted my beret, grabbed my walking stick (bought in Iwonicz Zdrój), and left the garden. Still drawn by the scent of freshly baked cake, I reached the street. The smell grew stronger with each step... I was on the right track.

I'd always been a little shy about going out; my awkward gait (due to my ancient knee joints) provoked laughter from children and, in my popularity, grimaces from the neighbors.

Following my sense of smell, I reached Miss Gosia's house. I saw a cake resting on the porch. This meant only one thing: I was finally there. I gently opened the gate and began to creep in silently.

I poked my head into the porch. What I saw exceeded my expectations. Gosia, leaning over the second cake, showed off her best features. Her pert bottom was covered only by tight shorts made of stretchy green material, which didn't even manage to completely cover her buttocks. Long, beautiful, smooth legs reached the floor. Very high-heeled shoes wrapped their straps around her athletic calves. Thank goodness I managed to hold onto my cane, allowing me to savor the view even as Gosia left the cake and busied herself tending the plants on the windowsill. She did this delicately, barely touching the stems. She delicately rubbed the leaves and lightly twirled the buds. Suddenly, without warning, I was gripped by an unstoppable, dry cough. Her shock was no less intense than mine, but it was only me who had to catch my false teeth before they hit the floor. My reflexes, though not what they used to be, saved the day. When I looked up, I saw that Gosia was practically naked! Apart from a few tiny details, I could tell that it was Ewa standing before me. A thin ribbon of the same tight material hid only a strip of her white, perfectly formed breasts, just above her nipples. Long blond hair was pulled back into a bun, revealing bare shoulders. Huge, tinted glasses. Sweet pink lips gave the whole figure a divine air. I noticed goosebumps crawling across her skin; she quivered, and her beaded bracelets clinked. Two exquisite bulges appeared on the green ribbon.

"You look..." (here a lump formed in my throat and for a moment I couldn't say anything) ...atomic (I finished with difficulty)

"How?" (she laughed out loud, a bit nervously, though even such laughter gave her curves a certain temperament)

I approached to repeat my words and whispered,

"Like... a sex goddess!"

She took a step back, and to diffuse the tension in the air, I said, "

It's apple pie, isn't it?

" "Yes" (she became a little confused), "it's still warm, but if you want, I can cut a piece and offer it to you."

Then, with trembling hands, she tried to cut off a piece, ending up splattering half the cake. The knife almost slipped from her hand, and some of the apple filling squirted onto her chest. I moistened my finger and pulled off the piece of baked fruit; it couldn't go to waste.

"That's not how it's made."

I stood behind her and placed my hand on hers, guiding the knife. Gently guided by me, she cut a slice.

"Look! It's not difficult at all, I'll show you again."

I placed my left hand on her hip and plunged the blade into the still-warm cake.

***

"I hope you'll visit me again, Władzia.

" "For apple pie, always! I love cakes made with Polish fruit. I remember back in '41..."

"Maybe this story is for another time?

Kisses. Kisses."

I stood up, straightened my shirt, and tightened my suspenders.

"See you, sunshine!" I went out through the porch, grabbing a slice of apple pie I'd cut out along the way.

*** "

Where have you been, you rascal!"

"On a walk, look how nice the weather is!"

"On a walk? I wonder where, since you can barely walk!

" "It's not far from here! I'm not a complete idiot yet! "

"Probably to that witch Gośka, right?

" "Why the hell would I go there!

" "Don't lie to me, man!"

"Well, if I love you, I don't lie to you!"

"We'll see, we'll see.

" ***

And I'm sitting on the bench in front of the house again, thinking how much I hate Hedorah—my wife. She's always picking on everything; you can't fart without her permission! Luckily, she's as dull as a railing. I light my pipe. What a heatwave, not typical May heat. Worse still, the sun was already high and about to fry my face. The birds had quieted down, the atmosphere had calmed down, but the atmosphere had also grown heavier. And suddenly!

"Władek! You idiot! Dinner!

" "What do I need dinner for? Let me drink some beer!

" "Oh! You bloody plague! If you don't want to eat dinner, then stuff yourself! And get the beer yourself!"

I now had two options: sit there and fry in half an hour, or go before it was too late. I chose the latter.

The shop was a short walk away, and I had to walk: concrete, asphalt, and road. I wouldn't have made it if it weren't for the shortcuts I only knew, under the shade of the trees. The route was longer, but I felt like I had air conditioning in my beret.

"Is there any cold beer?" (I asked in the shop, which had transformed from a tin shack into a tin oven.)

"Unfortunately, Mr. Władek, there isn't any. The refrigerator broke down yesterday; the repair service won't arrive until after the weekend."

"Jadziunia, my dear, help me!" (I whimpered as I felt the sweat that usually trickled down my back begin to trickle down.)

Jadzia always had a solution. She always managed to find the last, cheapest wine, sometimes long forgotten by everyone. Her very figure made her look like a mother sent by providence, giving her all to anyone who needed help. She was very tall and plump. Almost always, when she smiled, she showed a large gap between her upper front teeth. Her breasts, like enormous melons, could quench the thirst of anyone starving for love. Although she was no longer young, her face was wrinkle-free, and the skin on her hands was always delicate. When she helped others, she gave the impression of helping herself, yet in her eyes one could always see a spark of sadness—a faint reflection of a long-sincerely rejected, fiery love.

"Mr. Władek, there's a solution. In the back, something struck me, I set up the fridge-thermos, poured ice in it, and put five beers in. But these beers aren't for sale. Mr. Władek, have a beer with me!" (She laughed, but something felt off, as if the laughter was to hide sadness.) "

Jadziunia, my dear, of course I'll have a drink!

" "Jadziu" (I said, when we were already sitting on the fridge-thermos with a cold beer in hand.) "What would we do on the street without you?

And so I tell her, honestly: she's so sweet, so caring, and she laughs. And I tell her: she's so optimistic, so fresh, so helpful. And I rambled on until we'd finished the rest of the beer and just stared at the potato sacks, not talking about anything else.

I put my hand on her knee and gently rubbed it up and down. She smiled, and I kissed her neck.

***

"Mr. Władek, I never expected such energy from you. Your wife probably runs off to the neighbors at night or risks death from exhaustion."

(I winced sharply)

"I'm afraid to touch that disgusting hag even with a stick! She never gave me what I wanted! Twenty-five years in prison!"

"That's terrible, what you're saying, Mr. Władek!"

And repeating it, she pressed me to her motherly breast.

***

As I returned home with a warm beer, I didn't think about the cramped space in the back room, about the fact that some customer might have discovered us. I thought about how, after the third time, instead of sadness for an ingrate, I saw peace and joy in Jadzia's eyes.

***

"You rag! You drunkard! You infernal bum! You went out drinking again on my pension! You were supposed to buy beer, and you're back two hours later!"

"First of all, if I'm going to do this, it was on my pension, and secondly, I didn't get drunk at all and only drank beer. One thing!"

"Indeed, you don't smell of alcohol. So what have you been doing all this time?"

"Like, I drank cold beer and brought warm! Don't just stand there, woman, take the beer to the fridge! "

"Are you going to order me around, you rag?"

I received a light blow with a wooden spoon, which was a small bill for my two-hour absence and for taking the beer to the fridge. I was proud of myself.

***

I sat down on a bench where the sun was already baking. I took out my pipe. But suddenly it occurred to me that I had no tobacco. "

I'm going to the kiosk, to get some tobacco!" (I shouted, hoping he wouldn't hear) "

Buy me 'Pani domą', old man!" Because if not...

I didn't listen to the rest, and I didn't hear the rest. I was free again, and with that in mind, I walked to the kiosk.

*** "

Come in, Władzia. " Let's talk for a moment.

-Franek, you know my old lady will kill me if I'm not home soon.

-Władek, don't be like that, I want to show you something, and you won't see it through the glass.

I agreed and went into the booth. It turned out that "something" was Frank's new toupee. I had no desire to look at that thing, which looked like a dead rat. The whole atmosphere of the kiosk from inside was unbearable for me; I felt like I was in a cage. But I understood Frank; he'd been in prison almost his entire life. First for producing fruit juice, then for assaulting a police officer, and last for distributing LSD. Franek was: a junkie, a hippie, a thief, and a pederast to boot. He became a kiosk owner when, after serving time for LSD, they recovered money he'd stolen long ago. He bought a booth at the end of our street and, locking himself in, slowly went bald.

"Tell me, how do I look!"

"Great!" Franek, it goes perfectly with those gold earrings.

" "You think so? And that tattoo, how does it fit?"

"Are you testing me? You know it's brilliant!"

"Really?" (He made a childish face here) You know... you're so sweet.

He placed his hand on my knee and kissed my neck.

Epilogue.

The sun was setting, turning the sky ruby ​​red. A light breeze was already blowing away the evening chill. I'm sitting, managing to sit, on a bench. I have some tobacco and am puffing on my pipe. I'm admiring the sunset. It was a wonderful day; well, if it weren't for that scolding from the old lady for not bringing her the newspaper, it could have been considered perfect.