Free Absolute Sunset by Kata Mlek Page B

better.”
    “But she took care of them!” Hanka sulked. Agata was clearly trying to downplay the problem.
    “Yeah, that’s true... She did,” Agata’s gloom deepened.
    “And?”
    “Maybe you should tell somebody about it? Your teacher? Or a doctor?”
    “Hey! You don’t care at all!” Hanka, hurt, sprang off the swing and ran toward home.
    They made up soon after. Agata found Hanka at the compost bin. She offered her chewing gum. Hanka accepted the apology and the gum—all in all, it wasn’t worth wasting time on arguments. After a few weeks, Sabina did actually feel better. She started to get up in the morning. She washed herself, dressed up, and took Bartek for walks.
    “Yeah, you see?” Agata summed up the case.
    She and Hanka ran together to the stationery store to get some new markers.



12
    Sabina—Love Is Blind
    Mariusz. The deliveryman. In Sabina’s opinion the word “deliveryman” was completely inappropriate. Misleading. Suggesting a nonentity with a fat belly, maybe a fan of Ich Troje. She would prefer to call him a dancer, a photographer, or a musician. Perhaps Mariusz would have become an artist, if not for fact that his family never had enough money. So at the age of eighteen he sat behind the wheel of the white Mercedes—German scrap metal, covered in dark rust. He began delivering vegetables to stalls and shops.
    The early days were difficult. Cold mornings, tricky wholesalers. Negligent clients, a constant shortage of cash. And naivety. Nevertheless, five years later Mariusz and his Mercedes took control of the west end of Katowice. Including the
Tysiąclecie
housing estate. He could afford the most expensive jeans and stylish sneakers, and he wore a thick silver chain around his neck. “Gold is
passé
,” he said.
    Sabina met him for the first time when she was walking with Bartek. She took the baby outside because he was crying and crying. She was traipsing along the pavement, rocking the pram.
The little shit will have to finally fall asleep.
But instead he was waving his hands and legs. Sleep? No way. Sabina stared at some dandelions. Why hadn’t they blown away yet? It was already a middle of July!
    “If you put him up to the sun, he’ll close his eyes and eventually fall asleep,” she heard suddenly.
    She looked up, intending to hurl some choice epithets at the person who had intruded. Instead, she froze. She saw a handsome, young guy rather than what she’d expected: one of the grandfathers who trailed around between the clinic and the grocery store, looking for victims to chat with. She straightened up. She fixed her hair, but immediately realized the hopelessness of the attempt.
    “Yeah, up to the sun. I’ll do it for you,” he said, and folded the umbrella that was attached to the pram. Without waiting for Sabina to agree, he gently turned the pram. Intrusive rays immediately touched the pale face of the child. Bartek closed his eyes and stopped moving, either satisfied or stunned. The stranger gave him the pacifier.
    “He’ll sleep right away,” he said and started rocking the pram. After a moment, Bartek’s head started to roll from side to side along with it. The pacifier fell out of his mouth—the baby was asleep.
    “There, you see,” the young man seemed pleased. “I’m Mariusz.” He bowed in an old-fashioned manner and offered his hand to Sabina, taking the lead with a modern
savoir-vivre
that would normally be considered gauche.
    Sabina didn’t pass judgment, though, just shook his tanned hand. For a single moment, when her fingers touched Mariusz’s hard palm, she felt excitement. She blushed, but only a little.
    “Would you mind having a Coke with me in front of the shop—since he’s sleeping?” the young man asked.
    “Not at all,” Sabina nervously fixed the strap of her bra, which had slipped down. It showed under the short sleeve of her blouse. It was grey. Depressing.
    They sat down on the windowsill of the low pavilion whose sign read