Free Absolute Sunset by Kata Mlek

But she remained vigilant. Seeing that some of the guests were getting close, she fled, climbing up a willow and hiding amongst its branches. She had no intention to of coming down.
    “Hanka, how are you feeling?” Janusz asked shyly. For some time he’d stood under the tree with the rest of the group, trying to convince Sabina to come down. But she had just thrown broken branches at them. Of course Hanka had kept an eye on the situation from her place by the window, and she’d known there was no chance that Janusz could get his wife to come back to the flat if she really didn’t want to go.
    Finally, all the guests returned to the flat to continue the celebration of Bartek’s first sacrament. They probably assumed that the clink of glasses would eventually tempt Sabina. But she was as stubborn as a donkey. Hanka knew it, too.
    “Better,” she replied to her father. “I stopped bleeding.”
    “That’s great,” Janusz was relieved, and for a moment he just stared at the ceiling. Hanka thought he would cry. But no, he winked at her and smiled.
    “Hanka, I need a favor,” he started quietly. “Would you go and bring your mum home? You know that she responds when you ask. Maybe you’ll manage to bring her back.”
    “And what about Bartek?” To be honest, Hanka wasn’t that interested in her brother’s well-being, but she wanted to get out of this favor. She didn’t feel like negotiating under the willow for the entire housing estate to see.
    “Auntie Anna will take care of him,” Janusz soothed his daughter, patting her on the shoulder. Hanka moved away. No, a stupid gesture is not enough! But instead of firmly pushing her father away, instead of escaping and hiding under the duvet, cursing and being rebellious, Hanka simply agreed. As usual. It was their way. Her mother was mad. Her father didn’t know what to do. Hanka would solve the problem. Such a fate. What karma.
    She approached the willow by the longest possible route. She tried to avoid the other kids from the housing estate, girls playing a jump rope game, and friends of hers who were throwing a ball. They ignored her to make things easier for her. They had seen her mother’s escape to the tree and the swarm of guests chasing her. Now they looked straight ahead and didn’t bother their friend. Her life was nasty enough without them gawking. Hanka was grateful.
    It was slowly getting dark. When Hanka glanced up the tree, she could barely make out the outlines of the narrow leaves against the sky. She had to seriously strain her eyes to see her mother. Sabina was probably asleep. Her legs dangled, as if made of rags, but her hands held the slender trunk firmly.
    “Mom,” Hanka whispered, and Sabina immediately woke up.
    “What?” she asked, sleepily.
    “Come down. Guests are waiting. You have to serve the stew.”
    “Uh-huh. Well. I’m coming down. Move aside so I won’t kick you.”
    Sabina slowly climbed down to the ground. She was still completely drunk. Her hair was full of the bark. Her dress was stained. But Sabina smiled bravely, flickeringly, flirtatiously.
    “Come on, sweetie!” she said a bit too loudly and caught Hanka’s shoulder.
    They were, as a local expression described it, “tracking the snake,” their track like a sine wave. Hanka felt the eyes of people out for a stroll on her back, eyes of mothers with prams, of kids. But she kept going. What karma. At home, Sabina sat down at the table. They poured her drinks. Rounds. First one. Another. She started humming. She spilled the stew. Hanka brought Bartek to her bed and finally fell asleep.
    After the baptism party things got even worse. Sabina perhaps assumed that—now that God was looking after Bartek—she didn’t have to do anything at all. She paid no attention to him. She didn’t even look at him. She touched the baby only when she had to. “You don’t have the right to exist,” was her attitude. “You’d better disappear.”
    Sometimes Hanka wondered,