ORIBENTORIUS

The children had had a long and tiring day. Together with their teacher, the strict Mr. Draczewski, they set off early in the morning from their hometown, Krakow, on a gloomy, dirty, but lively PKS bus. They'd rented it for two whole days – that's how long the school trip to the mountains was supposed to last.

They stayed together in a small, cozy guesthouse with the telling name "Pod Giewontem" (Under Giewont Mountain). What mountains were they? What? What?

The Bieszczady Mountains, of course.

Ugh... Cold and inclement weather; and those uncomfortable snowsuits, too. Adamek truly hated such trips. But what could you do? If the whole class was there, the whole class was there. The fourth "A" was there. She was here too... She panted with her little mouth, made various grunting sounds, smacked her lips, sipped juice from a colorful carton. Oh, sweet, unique! For the sake of closeness, or even the sight of it, even a weekend in the mountains with a quirky professor didn't seem so bad.

The thoughts of another charming blond boy, Janek, ran along a similar line. And tall Staś. And well-read Mikołajek. And shy Maciuś. And Ambroży (who on earth came up with such a name for a poor child...?). And even the occasionally mischievous Wacławek.

And yet, completely different thoughts were shared by little Ewa, quiet Karolinka, the top-performing Kasia, red-haired Franciszka, and the aforementioned object of male desire—a golden-haired beauty, 137 cm tall, legs to her waist, hairpins—in short—Małgorzata.

Here were all twelve, plus the teacher herself.

"Children! Please come closer to me; listen!" he called in an authoritarian tone. Booming, yet warm. Determined, yet not devoid of a hint of parental understanding.

It was a shame no one listened. Admittedly, he actually enjoyed working with children. Sure, at first it was hard to tell one from the other—all so soft, shapeless, drooling, and here and there covered in lush hair; others almost completely bald. But now—well, well. There was no denying that he was a success. Take that trip, for example. They all went, every single one! And on a weekend. He'd planned it specifically so that not a single lesson would be missed. The principal was delighted.

"Children!" he called again.

They came running—heads and shoulders. Seemingly engrossed, they waited intently for the teacher's lengthy discourse on the center's regulations, assigned rooms, meal times, and so on, and then bombarded him with a sea of ​​questions. Only Adamek showed off some strange contortions in front of the class. It's hard to say what he meant by that.

The rest of Friday afternoon passed very pleasantly. The children went to their rooms, unpacked, and chatted about their ridiculous activities.

Dinner - delicious! Veal sausages with ketchup, fresh rolls, butter, and tea. It's better than home.

After the meal, as agreed, they were supposed to meet in the common room. When he entered, his children were already playing some games or something. Three girls surrounded Janek. In their seclusion, they were pontificating furiously; an argument had clearly broken out. It happens, even among children.

"I saw him come in. It was him, it had to be him," Ewa whispered, piercingly.

"I can't believe it," Jasio muttered with a hint of poorly concealed irony.

"So what do we do now?" asked one of the girls, her back to the door. Quite tall, in a strange, bright outfit, her hair tied in an old-fashioned bun... Who the hell could it be?

He preferred not to interrupt the conversation yet. He hoped to learn more.

Unfortunately, the conversation died down at the sight of him. Janek seemed to have gone to his bedroom, Ewa and Franciszka joined the group staring at the television, and the mysterious girl with the bun... Exactly, where had she gone? That green suit stood out quite clearly from the surroundings.

No matter, he'd lost it, and that was it. He'd ask around among the children later.

By the way, there was a distinct air of uneasiness in the atmosphere that evening. Some unexplained conspiracy. They were supposedly playing, but when he approached them, their conversations immediately ceased. Something was wrong...

Since it was almost eight o'clock, he ordered a meeting.

"In two rows! Now. Nine o'clock—lights out and bed. And please, keep it quiet."

They dispersed without a word.

He sighed heavily and went to his room. He brushed his teeth, changed into his pajamas, and carefully folded his day clothes. He was just entering the first stage of sleep when there was a light knock on the door.

"Well, which one is it? Come in, come in.

Karolinka. A charming creature. All day today she'd been walking around like... He couldn't quite put his finger on it. Scared? No, that's probably not it. More like—irritated, overexcited. And indeed, perhaps a little worried.

She entered, all tears in her eyes. Poor, puffy eyes.

"Sir, please... in the bathroom..." was all she managed to choke out.

Her pink nightgown accentuated the delicate curves of her still-childish legs. He had a huge urge to sweep her trembling body into his arms, dry her little tears, cuddle her, comfort her... but, but! What could be in that bathroom? He hesitated to check, he had a bad feeling.

She practically forced him there, tugging at the sleeve of his starched pajamas.

And in the bathroom, right on the floor, leaning against the washing machine, sat a cold Maciuś, a tiny wound behind his ear and a faint scent of almonds wafting through the air.

Decorated perfectly by some brat.

Nice...

And what would he tell the principal now?

Thoughts swirled in his head like clouds of dust under the bed in a long-undusted room. He gently lifted the frail body into his arms. The scent of almonds gradually faded. There was no doubt—the boy had been dead for some time, probably poisoned with potassium cyanide.

Where did that sore spot on the back of his head come from? Maybe they wanted to stun him before...?

Karola stared at her teacher in surprise. He was truly scared! She'd never seen him like this before. Shaken, he looked as if he might burst into tears at any moment, and that was definitely unacceptable. He'd throw a fit, other children would gather... She knew exactly how they might react to the news of this death.

No one seemed to like Maciek, but the shock of seeing a dead friend could have a profound effect. It had even made quite an impression on her.

Come on, use your head, think... Something has to be done, something has to be done...

"...get a grip, Professor!" she said loudly. Perhaps it came off too cheerfully.

He looked at her with a surprised, uncomprehending look.

The girl continued.

"Oh, we won't tell anyone. Everyone will confirm it was an accident. Some bet with friends or something. After all, these things happen sometimes. He drank your aftershave, and since he was taking heart pills, it had to end this way." As she spoke, she tilted the dead man's head back with a practiced hand motion, simultaneously trying to remove any remnants of food from his mouth.

"Well, why are you staring like that? Unscrew that bottle, well, that one."

Without a word, he did as she ordered. The liquid soon found its way into the dead boy's mouth, then into his esophagus and stomach.

"And what about the smell of cyanide?" he choked out.

"Uh... cake flavoring." That was the first version. When we saw it, Janek decided it would be the best solution. Cyanide is untraceable! It dissipates after a few hours, along with the characteristic scent. The only witness, you, to confirm the almond scent. And we're home.

"So why all this fuss about aftershave?

" The cook noticed the absence of aftershave in the kitchen before we could even turn around.

He stared at her, speechless, with an open expression of adoration in his eyes.

"Karolina, my heart. I really don't know how I'll repay you. If it weren't for you... if it weren't for you..." he corrected himself.

"No problem. I'd had enough of him too! Always so... bland.

" "Tepid, simply.

" "Yes, that's probably the right word. None.

" "Expressionless.

" "Indecisive, even."

They fell silent at once. A piercing silence fell. They both knew they had to get out of the bathroom as quickly as possible; they knew no one could find them here together. And yet, they couldn't part. Not everything had been resolved yet.

"How did you know...?

" "I overheard your conversation. Yes, the one from a week ago. Since then, you've been acting... different. And today - well, all the children saw it. And, let's face it, most of them suspected something. Delegated by the group, I sneaked into your bedroom... I waited... And it happened. I wanted to do something, stop the course of events, but when I realized it was about Maciuś... something, some inner force prevented me from fighting for his life.

Now she looked just like that little girl from just... how long ago? Less than fifteen minutes!" In a shy whisper, she added,

"Well, you know... I prefer Adamek.

" "So you're partly involved in this," I added, completely beside the point.

"And Adamek prefers Małgosia...

" "And Maciuś...?

" "He's her cousin."