When the doorbell rang, she was sitting in the kitchen. She bit her lip and anxiously awaited the next signal that would force her to open the door. "I'm not getting up," she thought. "I'll just sit here, let him knock himself to his damn death!" She feared it was the bailiff. In fact, she was almost certain it was him. Two days ago, she'd received an official letter announcing that she could expect a visit from a professional appraiser within a week. The bell rang again. She rose heavily from her chair and headed for the small hallway. An unpleasant tingling sensation gripped her hand as she touched the doorknob.
"Please. Not today," she whispered, opening the door a crack.
Ever since the official letter landed in her hands, she'd been trying to imagine what the Bailiff looked like. Finally, she concluded it must be a short, stocky man in a gray coat and black hat. She couldn't imagine him any other way. She breathed a sigh of relief when she saw a tall man standing behind the door, wearing a worn-out jacket instead of a coat and a dirty woolen cap for a hat. He stood in the shadows, staring at the wooden doorstep. "
You idiot!" she heard the voice of Edek, her ex-husband, echoing in her head. "Have you completely lost your mind? Why are you so happy? A damn bailiff can look however he wants! Idiot!"
"Excuse me," the newcomer asked timidly. "Are you okay?"
Ewa's eyes glazed over slightly. How could she have thought she could handle it on her own? When she left Edek, everything seemed different. Now, just before Christmas Eve dinner, she stood before the bailiff. Her children, waiting for their presents, would see this strange man carry away their refrigerator, television, and maybe even a table. No," she decided as she felt her fear being replaced by anger. "Not today." She'd managed to leave her husband after ten years, so she could also manage this intruder.
"No! Please leave immediately! You won't take anything from me today! Please come back next week, not today!"
The man raised his head. Ewa looked at him carefully. He was slim and old. His cheekbones were clearly defined beneath taut skin, etched with long wrinkles. His cheeks were covered with a snow-white stubble that hadn't been shaved for several days. The few thin strands of hair peeking out from under his cap were the same color. He reminded her of Clint Eastwood, as she'd seen him in his latest film. What was his name? At all costs, she remembered after a moment's thought. His eyes were blue and warm, distinguishing him from the Hollywood actor.
"I didn't mean to upset you," he said, clearly disappointed. "I'll go now..."
He turned away, but Ewa didn't let him go. She grabbed his arm and immediately caught the stench of clothes unchanged for days.
"I'm sorry. I mistook you for the bailiff," she said warmly. "Shall we start again?"
He looked at her curiously, and after a moment, his thin lips formed something like a smile.
"Me, a bailiff? Ma'am, I'm definitely on the other side of the barricade."
"Who are you?"
He shrugged, then for a moment, arched his back proudly. That single gesture had shaved at least a quarter of a century off him.
"Stanisław Drukarz." Even though he was hunched over again, he was more than a head taller than Ewa. "Currently, a nameless homeless man from the main train station. I was wondering if you'd invite me to dinner."
She sighed with relief. Her fears vanished, and a huge burden lifted from her heart. Why hadn't she thought of this sooner? Today was Christmas Eve, and she, like every year, was setting the table for an unannounced guest. Suddenly, her ex-husband's voice echoed in her head again. "What are you doing, you stupid whore?" he shouted at her, just like every night before they parted. "You're not going to let that lousy man into your house, are you? A fucking beggar!" Ewa brushed the voices away. After all, Edek was gone; he couldn't do anything to her or the children. Especially not the children.
"I'm sorry. I'm terribly absent-minded. Please come in." A glimmer of hope lit up the man's eyes. "Come in," she repeated.
He stared at her curiously for a moment longer, then bent down and picked up a black duffel bag.
"These are my things. All my things," he explained timidly when he noticed Ewa's searching gaze. "Thank you! I don't know how I can repay you!"
"First, please come inside and close the door before my apartment gets completely cold!" she laughed heartily. As soon as he entered the vestibule, she closed the door behind him.
"Mom, who is that?" a thin, girlish voice sounded from somewhere in the hallway. A moment later, a little girl appeared in the vestibule, dressed in jeans and a black sweater. Her long hair was carefully braided. "Mom, is that an angel?" she asked when she saw the unexpected guest.
Mr. Stanisław's face brightened. For a moment, Ewa felt as if some kind of energy radiated from him, but just as quickly, the unusual impression vanished. The girl immediately shook the unexpected guest's hand.
"Will you stay with us?" she asked, hope in her voice.
"Yes, for dinner," Ewa replied. For a moment, she looked anxiously at her daughter, who was trustingly shaking the homeless man's hand. What if he's a psychopath? Has he come to kill us? But something in the stranger's face dispelled those thoughts. "Now, will you take the man to the bathroom, please? I'm sure he wants to wash up a bit."
The homeless man nodded politely and allowed the little girl to lead him.
"Łukasz! Look! I met an angel!" the little girl shouted to her little brother. "
I'm sorry about her." Ewa was burning with shame.
A three-year-old boy emerged from the room. He was clutching his favorite teddy bear. For a moment, he eyed the visitor warily, and then the small hallway filled with the child's joyful laughter.
"Angel! Angel!"
Ewa looked at her children in surprise. She'd never seen them behave like this. True, Madzia always clung to new people she met and told them stories she'd made up. She was six years old and had an unfettered imagination. But Łukaszek... When she was pregnant with him, Edek started drinking. She remembered returning home, surrounded by the alcohol. She remembered the first time he hit her when she refused to make love to him. She was eight months pregnant, and he raped her in their marriage bed. After that, it only got worse. More and more often, the hand of the man who had promised her love until death landed heavily on her face. She told herself that other women had it worse. The most important thing to her were her children and having the strength to raise them. Dozens of times, she walked the city streets, hiding her black eye behind her glasses, telling curious people that she'd bumped into a door. On average, she'd get them once a week, and sometimes the swelling wouldn't go down for months. One evening, when her husband had been drinking with his friends after work, he came home and hit Łukaszek so hard that a stream of blood gushed from his little head. He did it because the little boy was drowning out his cries with some stupid TV show. It was probably "The Thirteenth Precinct," yes, that's definitely it, she recalled, tears welling up in her eyes. When the boy wouldn't stop sobbing, he tried to hit him again, but then she got in his way... "You fucking whore!" Edek shouted, and lunged at her with his fists. The show was still playing. As they landed on her, Cezary Pazura was acting up on the TV screen, and recorded peals of laughter echoed over and over again. She thought they were mocking her. She was sure the entire audience was watching, laughing at every blow. Ha, ha, ha! Look how he blackened her eye! Ha, ha, ha! Now the rib! You wanted it yourself! The audience, hidden somewhere, seemed to be shouting. "You wanted it yourself!" He beat her until the police, called by the neighbors, stopped him. They were disturbed by the television playing too loudly. Ewa spent a month in the hospital, suffering a broken rib and a punctured lung. She fought for her rights in court for six months, but eventually Edek went to jail, and she received an apartment and custody of the children. That night, Madzia slept over at a friend's house and didn't know what had happened. Łukaszek was a different story; his traumatic experiences and over a month of separation from his mother had left him an orphan. Now he was hugging a strange man and repeatedly screaming, "Angel! Angel!" She understood that new times had begun for her—times of hope. Ewa felt the urge to cry. A cry of relief. She realized she'd never have to see Edek again. She understood that no one would ever mock her again. She succeeded.
"The bathroom is that door over there. It's not big, but it's big enough for a bathtub.
" "Thank you," the old man replied. "For everything.
" "Thank you."
She ran into the kitchen so he wouldn't see her tears.
*
Magda bustled around her, helping carry the dishes to the Christmas Eve table. The girl was clearly pondering something. Finally, she stopped and scratched her head.
"Mom, do angels bring gifts? Are they like Santa Claus?"
"And why do you think our guest is an angel?"
"Well, because he is," Magda said, picking up three soup plates. "
Take four. For everyone," Ewa admonished her. "And where's your brother?" "
He's assembling something by the Christmas tree."
Ewa picked up a tureen of borscht and set it on the table next to the other dishes. There weren't many. She managed to make mushroom dumplings and a vegetable salad. There was also jellied carp, which a neighbor had given her for free. She looked around for her son. The little one was sitting by the artificial Christmas tree, curiously shaking a package. She took him under his arms and sat him down at the top chair.
"You're already sitting down.
" "Angel? Where's Angel?" the toddler asked.
In answer to his question, their guest appeared in the room. Ewa almost screamed in surprise when she saw him. Despite wearing an oversized flannel shirt and jeans whose legs he'd had to roll up several times, he looked significantly younger. Now she'd estimate him at no more than 50. He didn't slouch and was about two meters tall. His straight, snow-white hair reached his ears and was styled into an impeccable coiffure, as if he'd just left the hairdresser's. His stubble had disappeared from his face, though Ewa didn't remember keeping shaving kit in the bathroom. He held his travel bag in his hand. He found a place for it, finally placing it under the Christmas tree next to two small packages. He smiled brightly as he looked at the table.
"I see a real feast is in the making!"
Ewa blushed. She thought the newcomer was mocking her, but she couldn't detect a hint of deceit in his voice.
"I'm not a good cook," she tried to explain. "
Taste comes from the heart, not skill," Stanisław explained, sitting down at the table. He rolled up the sleeves of his flannel shirt, but they slipped down again, obscuring his hands.
"I apologize for the clothes. These were the only ones I had." Stanisław looked at her gratefully. He had extraordinary eyes; she saw centuries of experience in them. Centuries? How is that possible? she thought, but the thought vanished as quickly as it appeared.
"Mom! It's cold!" Magda shouted as she ran into the room. "
Sit down at the table," Ewa ordered, feeling the hairs on her arms stand on end. "I think there really is something wrong with the heating." She was about to get up when Stanisław stopped her, placing a hand on her shoulder.
"Easy." Nothing's happening, he explained in a warm voice, and she immediately felt the chill disappear. "Do you have a Bible?" he asked suddenly.
Ewa began to look nervously around the small room. She searched for some escape, but couldn't find any. The children stared at her expectantly, and she finally stammered uncertainly,
"Unfortunately. I'm not a believer."
"It doesn't matter. I think I still remember it," he replied, scratching his beard. He thought for a moment, then began to tell his story. "It was a long time ago; no one remembers those events anymore..."
He spoke like a storyteller, not a priest. His words contained no Bible verses; he spoke as if he were witnessing events from two thousand years ago. He spoke of the Archangel Gabriel visiting Mary. He spoke of the journey of Mary and Joseph. Finally, he arrived at the story of the birth of Jesus. They listened with bated breath, gazing into his eyes, which almost held a glimpse of the past. His face changed as he told the story; sometimes he brightened and smiled, sometimes he frowned. As he spoke of Jesus' coming into the world, a few tears gathered in the corners of his eyes. When he finished his story, they stared at him in a silence that no one dared to disturb. He broke it himself. He extended his hand and reached for the wafer lying on the table.
"My dears," he declared. "Thank you for your hospitality, which has been incredibly beneficial to me. I hope I can be of service to you too. The Lord loves you, so love each other." He looked serious, but a moment later he smiled broadly. "Happy birthday!" he exclaimed, and shared the wafer with them.
Ewa watched, captivated. She felt as if she had met her father. A father she had never met. She wondered who the mysterious visitor was. Could it be an angel? A real angel? She asked herself as she poured red borscht onto their plates.
"I haven't had Christmas Eve supper in a long time. For years," Stanisław declared, and tasted the soup. "Delicious! "
"Mom makes a great borscht!" Madzia exclaimed joyfully. "Young parrot?
" "Łarszcz," Łukaszek agreed, much to the delight of everyone gathered.
"How do you do it?" Ewa asked after a moment's hesitation. Even though the guest had introduced himself, she couldn't call him by his first name. "You spoke so beautifully! Were you ever an actor?"
"No. Never." He smiled warmly. "Maybe I should try it sometime?
" "Do angels have actors and televisions too?" Madzia asked. "
Are you starting again?" Ewa admonished, but there was no anger in her voice. "She's got it in her head that she'll be an actress someday. Now I'm tormenting everyone with questions and stories about television. She's completely obsessed with it.
" "Mom, can I open my present?" Magda got down to business, and before Ewa could answer, she was already struggling with a small package under the Christmas tree.
She looked at her with a sad look. The little girl wanted a doll like her friends'. A plastic baby that would cry, pee, and laugh, like a real child. She couldn't afford such a toy; instead, Magda would find a cheap doll from a newsstand. She bit her lip and looked impatiently at her daughter. She wanted the package to contain the gift she'd always dreamed of. Children need so little to be happy. She averted her gaze and looked at her guest. Stanisław was calmly eating a jellied carp, savoring every bite like a dish at an expensive restaurant. When he realized she was looking at him, he looked up and smiled mysteriously. She felt relief, and even Magda's joyful cries didn't surprise her.
"It's just what she dreamed of! Great!" the girl cried, tearing off the wrapping. A completely different doll from the one she'd bought her. "It's great!"
"Show it here for a moment."
The girl obediently ran over, clutching the toy.
"Alka!" Łukaszek shouted cheerfully.
Ewa lifted the doll. It was definitely a different model than the one she'd bought and wrapped in Christmas paper. She turned the toy over in her hands and looked at it in surprise. The doll's plastic eyes regarded her with a blank stare.
"And she pees, cries, and screams, and she's cool!" Madzia recited happily.
"Ika! Ika! Pee!" Łukaszek joined the conversation.
Only Mr. Stanisław sat quietly, a mysterious smile never leaving his lips. Time began to slow. His breaths grew longer and longer. His hands moved slower and slower, as if surrounded by water. Stanisław knew this moment would come. He waited. Finally, time stood still.
*
When time stands still, nothing happens before or after. Everything is now. It's a strange feeling, unlike anything anyone has ever experienced. Stanisław was not human, nor was his interlocutor, who stood before him. He was a black angel. The angel of death. When time stopped, he appeared, but not with a bang. He simply stood there, as if he had always been there. Darkness surrounded him, transforming into black wings. His black robes and hair flowed gently in the imperceptible breeze, also merging with the darkness that enveloped him. He had a pale face. His exceptionally beautiful, boyish features were distorted by an expression of dissatisfaction. His blazing black eyes regarded Stanisław with superiority and dislike. His thin lips opened, revealing a row of perfectly even, white teeth.
"So you've returned, Raphael," he said, his voice coming from all directions, as if he were everywhere at once.
Stanisław smiled, revealing equally white and symmetrical teeth. Small flames flashed in his eyes, a light so bright that a single glance would blind a person.
"You're the first in centuries to call me that," he said, his voice even more powerful than the black angel's. "Go away. You have nothing to look for here."
"You saw him. True," he stated, for he wasn't in the habit of asking. "Time is running out.
" "Go away. And let them know I've returned," Raphael declared. "Say that Azariah has returned. Say that Raphael has returned. Announce it, Black Angel."
The Angel of Death nodded, then leaned over Eve, frozen like a statue.
"Their time has come, Raphael. I'm taking them," he declared, touching the woman's cheek with a white finger. Suddenly he recoiled as if scalded. "Raphael, you can't! It's the humans who can't!"
Raphael smiled broadly. His eyes flashed with fire.
"I can. I'm part human now. I've done it before, and I can do it now. Do you overestimate your power, Angel?" I turned off the gas; they won't suffocate. They won't die today or tomorrow.
"How dare you! You will be punished for this!"
"That's not your decision," he replied calmly, but the flame in his eyes never faded. "I turned off the gas. There is no cause, no effect. No one will die in this apartment, for I control it." "
Remember, Raphael, you are not welcome here. Not even as a messenger of the Lord."
"Much has changed since I was last here. Depart, Black Angel, and announce my return." "
As you wish, my lord," the Black Angel replied, his voice brimming with contempt and fury, then let the invisible wind blow away.
Raphael sat in a chair and watched the family across from him. He loved humans, once paid homage to them. Not all angels did so. For centuries he had been nonexistent, part of the Lord, and now he had returned to Earth. He had only just awakened, but he was quickly regaining his strength. He was calm and composed, knowing he would soon discover the purpose of his mission. He had almost forgotten what wonderful creatures humans were. One good deed from the woman sitting across from him restored his strength and memory. He kissed the woman on the forehead, then placed his hands on the children's heads. He was back.
Ewa
felt something fall into her eye and closed her eyes. When she opened them again, their guest was gone. She shook her head in disbelief. A half-eaten bowl of aspic carp lay by the empty place setting. She stared at it in surprise, until she finally realized she must have put it there herself. For a moment, she felt a certain emptiness, as if someone were missing, but after a moment, that feeling vanished too.
"What, the Angel?" Łukaszek asked, pointing to the empty chair. "What?"
Ewa looked at him in surprise. She didn't understand what he meant. Magda had probably told him some nonsense again.
"Mom, where did he disappear to?" Madzia asked.
-Who?
-Oh, an angel! The one who had dinner with us!
"Have you got something on your mind again, huh? Admit it!"
The girl smiled slyly.
"If I did, where would this come from?" she asked, pointing to a large black travel bag lying under the Christmas tree. "Look, there's a note here." She studied the inscription for a moment. "For Ewa. This is for you, Mom!"
The woman approached the bag, smiling. She was convinced that Madzia had given her a gift. She kissed her daughter on the forehead and reached for the bag. It was heavy, as if someone had stuffed it with lead. She looked at her daughter in surprise and pulled the zipper. She almost fainted when she saw the gold bars that filled the bag. Little did she know that the guest she had long since forgotten had also saved her life by turning off the leaky gas boiler that heated the apartment.
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