I HATE HOLIDAYS

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For as long as he could remember, he had always hated the holidays. Both Easter and Christmas invariably plunged him into a deep depression. Especially the latter, beloved by children and adults alike, brought him sadness and a strong sense of loneliness.

He couldn't recall ever being happy during the holidays. At the age of two, he was placed in State Children's Home No. 2 in Poznań, where December 24th was the saddest day of the year. Back then, most children, remembered on that special evening, would leave for the holidays, and only a few who had absolutely no one close to them would remain. Forgotten by everyone, in a small group of a few, they sang carols in sad voices, envying their friends who, far away, sat around the Christmas Eve table, gorging themselves on delicacies, receiving presents, and for once a year, felt as if they had a real family. In this gloomy circle of children, there was always him, Marcin, a shy boy abandoned by his father. And later orphaned by his alcoholic mother. On Christmas Day, he'd rather lock himself in his room and sleep all day, instead of sitting silently at the Christmas Eve table, watching the gloomy faces of the other children and the irritated face of the teacher, who happened to be on duty at the children's home during the holidays.

Now Marcin no longer lived in the "poor house." When he turned eighteen a few months ago, he had to move out of the children's home and fend for himself. After completing vocational school, he began working as a car mechanic, earning a paltry three hundred zlotys during his three-month internship. For one hundred and fifty zlotys, he rented a room from an elderly woman, Łucja. Often, he didn't have enough money to pay the first month's rent, and then he had to earn some extra money—help someone shovel coal into the basement, dig up the plot, or prune branches in the garden.

The worst day of the year had arrived again, in his opinion. For the first time, he was going to spend Christmas away from the orphanage. For the first time, he was alone. Darkness was falling, the street lights were coming on, and Marcin lay on the couch under a thick blanket. He was cold. The radiator had broken the day before, and the landlady had said she wouldn't call a plumber until after Christmas, when he received his pension, because she didn't have the money at the moment. The old woman had gone to her daughter's for the holidays and locked the door to her room. She probably thought the boy might try to steal something from her and run away. Stupid woman! How could she have suspected him of such a thing? He had never stolen anything in his life, though life was often difficult and easy pickings were often tempting. He was poor, but honest and had his honor! Now all he could choose was between his cold room and the kitchen, which, while it had a coal stove, lacked fuel. He froze with the warm radiator behind the closed door. And the old lady is probably sitting at her daughter's table in her warm slippers, watching a film about Christ, thinking of herself as a good Catholic for donating five zlotys to Caritas. How he hated Christmas!

He was hungry, and there was nothing to eat at home. When he was renting a room, Łucja offered to feed him for one hundred zlotys a month, paid in advance. He couldn't agree to this, because then he wouldn't have money to buy a warm winter coat. And that winter was really cold. That's why he ate himself—it was simply cheaper. He ate anything, and sometimes, when he had no money, he didn't eat at all. That's why he was so skinny. He was happy that his internship was over and he'd get a higher salary in December. A whole five hundred zlotys! But that wouldn't be until after the New Year. Only then would he have a feast—he'd buy a few kilos of sausages, cheese, rolls, coffee, beer, sweets, and have a feast! Unfortunately, his boss wouldn't give him an advance, and he had to wait another week until payday.

Unfortunately, someone stole fifty zlotys from him the previous day. It must have happened at the bakery, because a long line had formed and it was very crowded, so the circumstances were favorable for a thief. Marcin realized he'd been robbed when he was two meters from the cash register. I wonder who did it? Probably some good Catholic, getting ready for the holidays. Instead of two loaves of bread, he bought a few rolls, and all he had left in his pocket was one zloty and twenty groszy. "I'll survive somehow today," he thought to himself, "and tomorrow I'll go to the poor guy; maybe a friend or a teacher will lend me a few zlotys? On Boxing Day, I'll try to earn a little extra money. Maybe someone will need money for shopping or chopping wood? The easiest thing would be to go to the Main Railway Station and beg at the ticket counters, but I won't stoop to that level. I'll manage. I've always managed somehow."

Darkness fell outside. The room was growing colder. He put on his jacket, but it was still chilly. He stood by the window and watched the few passersby hurrying home for Christmas Eve dinner. Suddenly, a fat Santa Claus with a large sack scurried past his window. He was probably carrying presents for well-behaved children.

"I guess I've never been a well-behaved child, because I don't remember ever getting a present I was truly happy about," Marcin thought. "Could you make someone happy with a chocolate bar or a lollipop given out of kindness, just to get away with it? How I hate Christmas! All this hypocrisy, this deception! Singing carols while people freeze to death outside. They celebrate, and the homeless starve. Abandoned children long for a normal home and don't even think about singing "Przybieżeli do Betlejem." That's how it is; the rich have everything and don't care about the poor. During the holidays, they think they're good people for a few days. They smile at everyone, try to be nice, and maybe some even give a little to the poor. They think they're okay. It's just a shame they can't be like this all year round! In reality, they're just squeezing what little conscience remains. And after the holidays, everything will go back to normal. The rich will still be greedy bastards, and the poor will continue to wallow in poverty. It's like that every year, and nothing will change it! It's the same old holiday circus. Giving a child a toy and then forgetting about it is worse than giving them nothing at all. The worst thing is to give someone hope and then take it away."

Marcin no longer felt like sitting in his cold apartment. He decided to go out and look for something to light the stove with – branches or trash. He put on a torn hat and one woolen glove. He'd lost the other somewhere. He'd buy a better one, a leather one with fur, as soon as he got his December paycheck. He turned up the collar of his jacket and left the house. He walked down Królowej Jadwigi Street toward Marcinkowski Park. There, he wanted to collect some branches and then search the trash cans for some papers to light the stove with. He was irritated by the colorful shop windows he passed, encouraging people to buy Christmas gifts. The Christmas decorations hanging from the street lamps deepened his depression. The group of laughing young people made him angry. When you're hungry and lonely, everything irritates you. The joy of others can be painful when you're sad. The abundance of goods in the shop windows and the signs "Sale!" they get angry when they don't have money for bread.

He walked past the Multikino cinema, turning his head away. It was embarrassing to admit, but he'd never been to the cinema in his life. He didn't have the money, and somehow no one had ever bought him a ticket. He took an underground walkway under the intersection of Królowej Jadwigi Street and Aleja Niepodległości and was already in the park. He thought the trees looked beautiful, covered in white fluff and sparkling in the yellowish light of the streetlamps. He looked around. He didn't see anyone, so he reached the young trees and started breaking branches.

"What are you doing here in these bushes?!" he suddenly heard a thick, male voice behind him. "Are you destroying trees? Should I call the Municipal Police?"

He turned, and someone grabbed him by the throat by the jacket. It was a tall, stocky man in his forties, wearing a dirty jacket torn at the sleeve. Beside him stood a slightly shorter, fat, bearded man in a patched coat. He could clearly smell the alcohol on their breath.

"I wanted to break off some branches because I have nothing to burn in the stove, and it's freezing cold," he added in a quiet, frightened voice.

"A touching story," laughed the bearded man who stood behind him.

"Get out of the cash register, kid, or you'll be in trouble!" The bearded man wrapped his arm around Marcin's neck.

"I don't have any money!

" "Don't lie!" The man in the jacket punched him in the face.

Marcin would have fallen if it weren't for the fat man standing behind him.

"I really don't have any money," he groaned, distraught and terrified.

"If you don't want it willingly, we'll take it by force! Andrzej, hold him!" the man shouted at the bearded man, and when he did as he was told, he kicked Marcin in the stomach.

The fat man then released the boy, and as Marcin fell to the snow, the men began kicking him. They stopped a moment later when the boy stopped moving. Then Andrzej grabbed Marcin by the collar of his jacket and yanked him up. The boy could barely stand when the men began searching him. Andrzej found a few small coins in the front pocket of his worn jeans.

"Oh, Roman, I found money! I knew he was lying to us!" Andrzej quickly counted the change. "Damn, there's only twenty złoty here. Where else did you hide the money?!" the bearded man yelled at the frightened boy. "Tell me, or you'll get punched again!

" "That's all I have. Seriously," Marcin explained quietly. "Someone robbed me in a store yesterday.

" "You're not exactly rich," the bearded man said. "You don't even have a watch. The shoes are useless either, worse than mine." Andrzej eyed Marcin. "The jacket isn't that bad. But it's too small for me, let alone you, Roman.

" "Exactly, the jacket! Maybe he has something hidden in the jacket!" Roman quickly unzipped the boy's zipper and dug his hand into the inside pocket. From it, he pulled out only a piece of bread lightly spread with margarine.

"Have mercy!" Marcin begged, tiny tears forming in the corners of the boy's eyes. "Take the money, but leave me some bread. I don't have anything else to eat. I left a piece of bread for myself to eat when I get really hungry. Today is Christmas Eve, so I won't be able to earn anything or buy anything to eat, and somehow we have to survive until tomorrow. Please, leave me some bread!

" "Damn it!" Andrzej cursed. "Leave him some bread. We got lucky! This guy is poorer than us.

" "By the way—don't you have anything to do, hanging around the park on Christmas Eve, tearing up branches? Did your parents kick you out of the house or something?" Roman asked.

"No, I don't have any.

" "What do you mean—you don't have any?

" "No, I don't have any. I'm from a poor family. I turned eighteen three months ago, and they told me to get out. Since then, I've had to fend for myself." Marcin wiped the blood from under his nose with the back of his hand.

"I was in the poorhouse too," the bearded man said quietly. "I know what it's like there. Fuck, I feel bad for beating up one of my own. Us guys from the poorhouse always stuck together and tried to help each other...

" "Yeah, man!" Roman lowered his head. "We looked like the absolute bastards! We kicked a poorer man than us, our own man. On Christmas Day, too.

" "It's embarrassing to admit it. Don't say anything!" Andrzej said. "If the guys from Centralny found out about this, we'd probably get our asses kicked!"

"I don't know how to apologize to you now..." Roman said.

"I don't care about apologizing," Marcin replied. "Just let me go and I'll be okay."

"No, no! We can't leave it like this!" Andrzej said. "I'm homeless and all, but I have my honor. I'm not some heartless son of a bitch. You said yourself you were hungry and had nowhere to stay warm." Roman and I have a finish line not far from here, in the basement. It's warm there because there's a hot water pipe running under the ceiling. We have some food and we'll find some wine too. Come with us!

"Well, then you'll beat the shit out of me again and leave me in my socks! I haven't fallen on my head yet. I'm not going anywhere with you!" Marcin was still terrified.

"No, no!" Roman protested. "You won't harm a hair on your head! I swear. My word is more precious to me than money!" he swore.

"Yes, come with us!" the fat man agreed. "You'll warm up and eat something. You won't be sitting alone on a night like this. We guys from the poor house have to help each other! Because if we don't help each other, who will?!" he patted Marcin on the shoulder

.

It was actually quite warm in the small basement room, lit by a bare bulb. It was an unused stroller, packed with some old junk: a bicycle without wheels, two creaking couches, and a small, scratchy, round table. There was even a Christmas tree in the corner – a small potted tree decorated with candy wrappers.

"I stole it from outside the supermarket," the bearded man laughed proudly, looking at the tree. "We also organized something to drink" – he showed them several cheap fruit wines – "we have two loaves of bread, breadsticks, cookies, and a jar of pickles.

" "I won't even ask how you got all this," Marcin smiled. "So, is anyone chasing you out of this basement?

" "Not yet," Roman replied. "The people living in this building are quite alright. We have a quiet agreement with them. As long as it's relatively quiet and there are no arguments, we can sleep here. And we have to relieve ourselves outside." We're not here during the day anyway, because we're organizing our own meals or trying to earn some money.

"Okay, let's drink to your health," Andrzej said, taking the wine, unscrewing the cap, taking two long gulps, and handing the bottle to Marcin. "Drink, it'll warm you up!"

The men quickly drained the bottle, nibbling on bread and pickles. The fat man pulled out a second glass of wine and began to confide:

"I remember the holidays when I was in the orphanage. Those were the saddest days of the year, when my friends went away to visit family, and I had to stay because no one would take me in. When I ended up in the orphanage, I was an eight-year-old brat. My parents died in a car accident, and then my brother, who was two years older than me, and I ended up in the orphanage. Then my brother was adopted, and I was left all alone. I often cried myself to sleep at night during the holidays, thinking that other children had moms and dads and siblings, while I was alone and no one wanted me. Luckily, when I was thirteen, a nice family adopted me too, and I finally had my own place."

"I hate the holidays too. And how did you end up homeless?" Marcin didn't even notice when he switched to "you" with his new friends.

"You know, I worked at a construction site, and since I wasn't getting paid, the manager fired me, then I couldn't find a job, my wife divorced me, and since the apartment was hers, I was left homeless, and I've been like that for six years.

" "Do you have children?

" "A daughter, eleven years old.

" "And you, Roman, were you in a shelter too?"

"Not in a penitentiary, but when I was fifteen, I was sent to a reform school for theft and robbery. They were supposed to rehabilitate me, but the "elements" lived there, and I was given such a "life school" that I never got back on track. I always preferred to avoid work and make some money on the side, instead of working a penny job for some capitalist pig. For the last few years, I lived with this nice widow and I had a really good time with her, but I caught her in bed with some chump once, we had a falling out, and now I live here. That's how it is, young man, sometimes on the cart, sometimes under the cart."

When they'd finished their third bottle of wine, Marcin took out his harmonica and started playing fast, cheerful melodies. The men stomped their feet to the rhythm and sang in deep voices, singing terribly off-key. They'd already eaten everything there was to eat, and Marcin briefly summarized his life story for the men. Roman nodded sympathetically, and Andrzej patted the boy on the shoulder.

"And no one ever wanted to adopt you?" the bearded man asked quietly.

"Somehow, it never happened," Marcin replied in a quiet, sad voice. I'm not surprised, really. Who would want to adopt an ugly guy like me?

"You're not that ugly," Andrzej replied, staring at the wall. He didn't want to upset the boy, although he also thought Marcin wasn't exactly handsome, and with his large nose and protruding ears, he could scare children. "I've seen hundreds of people much uglier than you.

" "Don't worry. It's over, it's over. You're not in poverty anymore, and I'm sure you'll get your life together somehow," Roman consoled him. "But never mind, it's Christmas, let's have a drink!" With that, he opened the fourth and final bottle of wine.

"Tell me, how are things with women around here? Do you have a girlfriend?" the bearded man asked.

"No, I don't.

" "Have you ever had any?"

"I've never had any luck with girls."

"But you're not a virgin, are you?" Andrzej looked the boy straight in the eye.

"Well, I mean..." Marcin's face turned red, and his tongue began to tangle. "It just so happens that... Well, I am a virgin." He blushed. "But don't laugh at me...

" "Nobody's laughing at you, man. And did you know I have a present for you?" the bearded man winked at Roman knowingly. "I just don't have it with me, I have to go get it.

" "No, come on," Marcin replied, still embarrassed by his confession. "I don't want any presents. I don't have anything for you either.

" "Come on, come on? We owe you something. It'll be a present from us for that bastard in the park. From the bottom of my heart, for the boy from the poor house. Don't go anywhere! I'll be right back!" Andrzej said with a mysterious smile.

*****

The bearded man returned a few minutes later, but not alone. A woman came with him – a woman in her early thirties, with short hair and a brunette. She was poorly dressed and visibly cold. She had a pretty, if worn, face and large, bright brown eyes.

"This is our friend, Marcin," Andrzej introduced the boy. "And this is Kasia, our best friend.

" "Hi Marcin!" the woman smiled cheerfully and offered him her hand.

The boy shook it, surprised by the unexpected visitor. Kasia sat down on the couch next to Marcin. The fat man pulled a bottle of wine from his jacket pocket, and the girl a pack of breadsticks. They all took turns drinking from the bottle and chatting, joking and laughing loudly. Marcin felt like he was among good old friends. He hadn't had such a good time in a long time. Kasia turned out to be a very nice, cheerful girl. She told funny stories, which she then laughed at herself, patting the boy's knee or placing a hand on his shoulder and leaning on him. Marcin immediately took a liking to her, especially since she often smiled at him and looked at him with a twinkle in her eye. He had the impression that she liked him back.

At one point – when the bottle was at its lowest – Andrzej stood up and said that he and Roman needed to go out for about half an hour to take care of something. Marcin didn't mind. The alcohol, the warmth, and especially the company of a woman who took such an interest in him that no one had ever done before, put him in a blissful, cheerful mood.

"You don't have to hurry!" Kasia called to the departing men. "We young people will have a good time here without the company of elderly gentlemen," she laughed cheerfully, amused by her own joke.

"Just not elderly!" Andrzej playfully shook his finger at her, trying to look menacing. "I'm not even fifty yet.

" "Okay, okay, we have to go," Roman interjected, closing the door behind him.

*****

The men didn't have to do anything at all. They only left to leave Marcin alone with Kasia. First, they walked around the estate, but they were cold, so they came back. They stood on the stairwell at the entrance to the building and talked.

"What's this idea with Kasia?" Roman asked. "Why did you bring her and then leave the Young One with her?"

"What are you, man? Are you so drunk or so clueless?" The bearded man was surprised by his friend's thoughtlessness. "The guy said he'd never had a girlfriend, so I brought Kasia to make him a man. You know, a gift from us for what happened in the park.

" "Ha, ha, ha," Roman laughed aloud. "You came up with that brilliant idea!" It's a good thing you winked at me when you said we had to go out to take care of something, because I was about to say you've lost your mind and I'm not going anywhere. You do have a brain, after all!" He slapped his friend firmly on the shoulder.

"What were you thinking! I'm not stupid. In fifth grade, I even got a B in math. Admittedly, it was only for half the semester," they both laughed.

"You were a nerd, right? But how did you manage to convince Kasia? She charges five bucks for a number, and we don't have any money!

" "The girl has a heart of gold." I told her about the Young One, and Kasia felt sorry for the guy. She didn't have any customers today anyway, so she agreed to do it for ten bucks and said I'd pay her when I had one.

" "Yes, she was always nice. Hush, someone's coming up the stairs!"

The men fell silent. The door leading to the basement of the building opened, and a smiling Kasia emerged.

"Already?" Andrzej asked.

"Yes, already," the woman replied. "He was very happy, and then he fell asleep like a baby. He's a nice guy. Just very shy. I had to take matters into my own hands," she laughed cheerfully.

"Thanks, Kasia, you're the best!" It's like we agreed, I'll pay you as soon as I earn something, because, you know…

"I know, I know, because you have your honor," she laughed again. "You always say that. Okay, guys, I have to go. Thanks for the wine and the pleasant company. Take care, and Merry Christmas!

" "Thank you," the bearded man shook her hand and kissed her left cheek, then her right. "Merry Christmas.

" "Merry Christmas," Roman also wished the woman.

"Well, for now!" Kasia waved and went outside.

"Shall we go back to the basement?" Andrzej asked.

"No, not yet. Let the boy get some sleep."

They talked in hushed tones for a few more minutes, until Andrzej became sentimental and began reminiscing about the times when he himself was in an orphanage:

"You know, man, when I look at Marcin, it's like seeing myself when I was in a poor house. I was so lonely back then, too, and I hated Christmas so much," he said in a quiet, sad voice.

"The juvenile detention center wasn't fun either," Roman chimed in. "There were so many of us there, but I didn't really have any real friends, no one to lean on. Oh, old times, no point in bringing it up."

They didn't notice Marcin standing a few steps below the half-open basement door. The boy woke up and went out to look for his friends, but stopped when he heard the men talking about him and was curious what they would say.

"I'll tell you something, Roman. We're already lost to the world and we'll probably never escape homelessness. But I wish at least the young one could succeed. That he could become a real person. Have a home, a good job, a family. He's such a nice, humble, unhappy guy. It would be a shame if he wasted his time and went to the dogs, like us."

"Sure, it would be a shame. But maybe he'll have more luck and sense than us stupid old yokels," Roman shared his friend's mood. "People are sitting in warm houses at laden tables, gorging themselves on delicacies, while we're like rats in the basements. Damn it, if only I could turn back time! It's all because of the company; my friends got me involved in these thefts and robberies. My parents weren't poor at all."

Marcin retreated to the stroller and sat down on the couch. He didn't want to be caught eavesdropping. A few minutes later, the men returned to the basement.

"What, we've been gone for a while, haven't we?" Andrzej asked.

"I don't know," Marcin replied. "Time has flown by.

" "Because time always flies in good company, but in bad company, it drags on like a sledgehammer," the fat man laughed. "And how did you like the gift we gave you?

" "What gift?" Marcin bulged, surprised.

"What?" We arranged a date for you with Kasia, didn't we? The girl complained to us this morning that she didn't have a boyfriend, so we decided to do a good deed and play matchmaker," the bearded man laughed. "Do you like Kasia?

" "Sure," Marcin grinned from ear to ear.

"Did the date go well?" Andrzej asked with a mysterious smile.

"Absolutely," Marcin laughed, happy as if he'd won a million in the lottery. "But then I screwed it up because I wanted to go out with her, but I didn't because the wine made me nauseous and I fell asleep.

" "You'll probably have a chance to meet her somewhere again. But why are you so smug, huh?" Roman asked. "Maybe something happened between you two?" he chuckled.

"I can't say," the embarrassed boy replied.

"Why? Tell me... You won't tell us?" Andrzej prodded.

"I can't... I promised Kasia I wouldn't tell anyone."

"Oh, I know everything," Andrzej smiled broadly. "You don't have to say anything anymore. Something happened, but it's none of our business. I understand, there was no point. But why did you lie to us about not being successful with women? You were doing quite well with Kaśka. You're quite a hit," the bearded man winked at Roman when Marcin wasn't looking at him.

"Stop making fun of me," Marcin feigned indignation, but in reality he was pleased and took the praise at face value.

"Nobody's making fun of you. You were doing really well.

" "Nothing, guys." Marcin heaved himself up from the couch, the alcohol taking its toll. "It's time for me to go. I'll be getting ready.

" "Do you want to go already?" Roman asked, surprised. "Stay a while! We'll sit down, talk..."

"No, no. It's late, and I feel weak after all that wine. I think I'm drunk. I need to go to my room and get some sleep."

"Well, if you have to, you have to," Andrzej approached the boy and shook his hand. "Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year! I hope you'll open your own car repair shop in the future and repair cars for rich bastards for a fortune!

" "Merry Christmas!" Roman said. "And I hope you'll always be as successful with women as you are today!

" "Thanks. I wish you a Merry Christmas too. And thank you for everything! This was the best Christmas of my entire fucking life. Seriously! I've always hated Christmas, but I'll remember this one fondly. Maybe someday I'll even like Christmas?" Marcin laughed.

"Come visit us when you have time. But only in the evenings, because you won't find us here during the day; we're usually around Central or Bem. You'll always be welcome. And what's wrong, it's not us," Andrzej said.

"I'll come back someday. I promise. Well, I'll be off then. Happy New Year.

" "I hope it's better than this one," Roman said.

"It will definitely be better," Marcin replied with conviction in his voice. "It has to be.