Winnie the Pooh

 

"Kubuś! Kubuś!" a slightly distorted male voice came from inside the house.

Kubuś was sitting on the doorstep, absorbed in licking one of his paws. He had unusually long ears for a small cat, beautiful blue eyes, and a strange cloud of long cat hairs around him. He stopped his toilet and looked toward the hallway, where an older man was slowly moving. Mr. Teodor was resting his weight on a metal ball, his right arm hanging limply in a eloquent weakness, and his right leg effectively slowing his pace.

"There you are, Kubuś, and I've been looking for you." The man smiled crookedly, as if part of his face didn't want to smile.

"Come on, come home. Aniela will be here soon," the kitten meowed softly, raised its tail, and obediently stepped over the threshold. The wind closed the door…

"We'll go to my room now, yes, mine, because I built it myself, you know?" And they said back then it would be for 10 years at most. That's what the director said. Then he promised to get us out of here quickly, and look, 40 years have already passed...

With these words, Mr. Teodor sank heavily into a soft armchair, covered with a crocheted coverlet. He rested his good hand on his crutch and pondered, opening his eyes wide as if that would help him see the past more clearly... Kubuś sat at his feet and finished the cat's toilet.

The room was pleasantly cool. Most of it was taken up by a spacious three-piece wardrobe with high-gloss lacquered doors. A large vase with a bouquet of artificial red roses dominated the low table. The flowers matched the curtains and the coverlet on the single couch.

The man sighed heavily and repeated,

"40 years... Aniela was so beautiful, and now she's so poor and sick." His voice broke, his lips twisted even more, and he began to sob:

"She's had two heart attacks, she's without a kidney, without an intestine, how is it still alive?" he asked Kubuś...

Kubuś answered with a familiar "meow"... Mr. Teodor nodded, tears streaming down his cheeks, searching for the familiar path marked by wrinkles.

"Maybe if it weren't for Romek, maybe she would be healthier... that first heart attack, it was all because of him."

Romek had just returned from the army, he was so happy because she—Iza—had been waiting for him the whole time. She accepted the ring before he left, and now he's free, he's served his country, and he's all Iza! He's waited so long for this, that this trip to Kazimierz will be one big celebration.

They left, Iza wasted away by the wait, but now her eyes smiled so beautifully as she gazed at the Vistula. It was warm, the beginning of summer… still a week until the wedding. Romek was now so vulnerable to Iza's flirtatious gestures and glances. Her long, raven hair contrasted provocatively with the red of the poppy tucked behind her ear. They sat on a blanket, drinking sweetened tea from a thermos. Suddenly, Iza shed her blouse, revealing her pale shoulders, and in her bikini top and shorts, ran toward the river. She glanced back, checking if Romek was chasing her—he was. He stopped at the bank, and she was already knee-deep in the water, smiling at him. He didn't follow her—he was watching. She continued walking, smiling, and he was still watching… She wanted to swim away, to lie down on the water. Her long hair floated on the waves like dark seaweed. A poppy fell out from behind her ear. She didn't have time to scream; she simply disappeared beneath the surface of the water. Romek paled and then jumped to where the wildflower was dancing. They must have grabbed each other's hands in the depths and were still smiling at each other... Maybe after a while, they even received tails from the mermaids... but no one heard their song again.

Instead, Aniela could hear her crying.

"How she cried then, Kubuś... even Natalia couldn't calm her. And when Natalia left, no one tried to explain or silence her. I cried then too." A shapeless sob came from Mr. Teodor again.

The door opened. Mrs. Aniela returned from her consultation with the cardiologist. The second heart attack was less severe than the first, but she was much older and weak. Tired, she left her shopping in the hallway and peeked into her husband's room.

"Why are you crying again?!" There was no fear or concern in her voice, only a hint of irritation, because she knew Teodor was crying for no reason.

"Are you telling Kuba something again?" the cat responded with a louder

"meow" for the man and began tracing figure eights between the housekeeper's legs.

Mr. Teodor wiped his nose with a pressed, checkered scarf and shouted,

"Get out of my room! This is my room! I built it myself, by the sweat of my brow. Nothing here is yours! Ungrateful, how could you be like this?! You're doing nothing! Get out, I told you."

Mrs. Aniela had already left before her husband's outburst of anger, and when she looked at his transformed face, she knew she would not escape the insults. She sat on a chair by the refrigerator and stared straight ahead. The neighbors would again ask how she stood it, wring their hands and sympathize with her deeply. She didn't sob; tears rolled freely down her delicate cheeks.

Kubuś's mother settled on her lap and twisted around, trying to find a comfortable position for a nap. The woman placed her hands on her back and continued listening.

"You'll see, if you're like this, I'll throw you in the trash! Throw you out! Throw you out!"

Suddenly, silence fell. The cat purred prayers, and Aniela remained motionless. Minutes passed.

"Aniela! Aniela..." the voice no longer held any trace of resentment or agitation; it was weak and more distorted than the recent cries.

"Aniela, please bring me a glass of water, it's hot today."

Mrs. Aniela moved the cat to the clean kitchen rug and stood up to get the glass. As she poured the water, she said sadly, more to herself than to her husband:

"Wait, Teoś, I have to get back from the garbage can..."