Free Absolute Sunset by Kata Mlek Page A

if dipping deep into the well of memory would bring back recollections of such solitude from her own early childhood. Of the terrible loneliness of the small child. Of a longing for caresses. Of crying until you are hoarse. Thoughts like these always made her cry. She choked with them. She hoped her mother had been different with her. Poor Bartek...
    Meanwhile, Sabina lay decaying in her dirty bed for days at a time. She remained in the bedroom, keeping it as dark as a crypt. She had her bottle. Sometimes she rustled with blister packs of diazepam. Hanka had to take care of everyone. No matter whether she wanted to or not. No matter whether she could or not. Never mind that.
    Her father kind of helped sometimes, kind of tried. Like all fathers do. Sunk in financial worries, absent-minded and tired out, sometimes he fell asleep while rocking Bartek in the pram. His hands continued to move, even after he himself was asleep. He took additional work. Sometimes at night he counted something and typed on a calculator. Hanka didn’t like the clatter.
    It somehow happened that Hanka was the one who had to care for the baby, although she had never asked for a brother. It was a lot like the situation with the goldfish. Hanka had gotten it for her birthday two years before. It had had ugly, bulging eyes. Hanka hadn’t liked it at all. But with the fish in the house, someone had to look after it. It was the same with Bartek—she looked after him, although she was disgusted with the stinking, greenish poos that smudged his thin cheeks. With his dirty nails. With his ugly face, covered with a crust of dried milk. With his dull eyes—Bartek didn’t even seem to recognize her. And, at the same time, she also had to look after Sabina. And, of course, her father, overwhelmed with work. Her responsibilities were forever on her mind!
    Instead of going out with friends to collect the wild lupin, she hurried home from school, just like a busy mother rushing from work to her family. And the whole way she wondered—would she find Bartek alive? Healthy? What about her mother? Would she be drunk? Would she be grumbling? Would she pass out, dazed by alcohol? Please, let her fall asleep! Maybe she needed to call the doctor? Her mother would talk nonsense. Maybe she’d gone crazy. Or is she simply gibbering in a dream?
    As soon as she got home, Hanka would prepare some food. Why did they run out of bread? Money? Where’s the money? Not enough, not even for half a roll. She would clean, more or less. Sometimes she even did laundry. She just couldn’t wear dirty underwear any more. It was humiliating to change out of dirty clothes before P.E.!
    Then she worried about her father. Where was he? Why hadn’t he come back yet? Was the bus late? Had there been an accident? Bartek was crying, he was cranky. When will he fall asleep? For heaven’s sake! After all, she had a homework to do! Worries, worries, worries. Hanka was slowly becoming fed up with the situation.
    “I can’t stand it no more,” she quoted the lines heard in some TV series while talking to Agata. It was one of the rare days when Janusz had a day off and was taking care of the house, Sabina, the baby, and all the other stuff.
    “Uh-huh,” Agata was chewing gum, so she wasn’t saying much. She smelt like sugar.
    “My mother is sleeping through entire days,” Hanka continued.
    “M-hm.”
    “She does nothing. Sometimes she shouts. She avoids Bartek. She makes a mess at home. What’s going on? She’s gone nuts!”
    “Uh-huh.”
    “Agata! Spit the gum out!” Hanka was irritated with her friend’s lack of compassion.
    “Sorry,” Agata muttered and spat the gum into her hand. Pink pulp smudged between her fingers, forming a membrane like a web. Agata began to nibble at it.
    “What would you say?” Hanka hoped for some specific advice.
    “Hmm... It was the same with us after the twins were born. My mom... She used to cry all the time for a good half a year. Then she got