Wieslaw Mysliwski - Stone Upon Stone

Having a tomb built. Its easy enough to say. But if youve never done it, you have no idea how much one of those things costs. Its almost as much as a house. Though they say a tomb is a house as well, just for the next life. Whether its for eternity or not, a person needs a corner to call their own.

I got compensation for my legs a good few thousand. It all went. I had a silver watch on a chain, a keepsake from the resistance. That went. I sold a piece of land. The money went. I barely got the walls up and I didnt have enough for the finish work. Its another thing that if Chmiel hadnt gone and died, I probably would have gotten it done. Maybe not right away, but bit by bit. I wouldve put something aside, found something I could sell. In any case there would have been someone to keep at me and not let me give up. Chmiel never liked starting a job then leaving it half done, like workmen these days. What he began he always had to finish. Except that after he did the vault he never even came to ask for his money. He took to his bed the same day, and a week later he was gone.

And before then I couldnt find any extra cash so he could wrap the job up before he died. Because even when something came along, there were more urgent needs and the tomb had to wait. Luckily no ones dying, Id say to myself. Plus there were taxes and taxes. I ended up having to borrow some. Then the time came to repay and I had nowhere to get the money from.

Kubik, my neighbor, hed come by almost every day and straight from the doorway, without so much as a good morning hed start in with, When are you paying me back, when are you paying me back? I was supposed to get it last Christmas, and now its almost December again. My lad has to get married. Theres a baby on the way. He needs a suit, a shirt, shoes. Music, vodka. The groom has to foot the bill for the whole thing. Dont think its like weddings in the old days. Back then you wore your dads suit and your mother made you a linen shirt. And it was only local people from the village, all you really needed was the priests blessing. These days you have to invite everyone from the town. And you cant give them homemade hooch it has to be the fizzy stuff from the store. And the wedding has to last three days, cause if theyve taken the trouble to come all this way they have to eat and drink their fill. Otherwise theyll bad-mouth you and say the hosts were bums. And on top of everything they manage to sober up every few minutes, the bastards. The food isnt so much of a problem as the booze. Then at the end you have to give every one of them a bottle for the road, so theyll remember you well.

So I borrowed from Macioek and repaid Kubik. I reckoned that since Macioek lived all the way past the mill, he wouldnt be there every day like Kubik was. But Macioek turned out to be a pain in the ass as well. He didnt come visit. But every time I met him in the village, hed start hollering from way off:

Give me my money back, you son of a bitch! You borrowed it fast enough!

I was afraid to go down the co-op to buy bread, because I might run into him there. I was even afraid to go to church on Sunday sometimes he wouldnt even wait till we got out of the churchyard, hed start right in on me in front of everyone while we were still on hallowed ground.

In the end I said to myself, why should I let some old fart push me around. I put a rope on the heifer and walked her down to the purchasing center to sell her. Ever since she was a calf Id planned to keep her, but what could I do. I just made sure not to meet anyone in the village on the way. I didnt want people feeling sorry for me and saying what a pity it was I had to sell it. Luckily the weather was good and people were working in the fields. There was only old Bach sitting on the bench outside his place warming himself in the sun. His eyes were closed, either from the glare or because he was dozing, so I was counting on being able to pass by without him noticing. The heifer wasnt making much noise, and I was walking softly as well. But all of a sudden something flashed in those eyes of his, like theyd flipped over.

You taking her to be serviced?

No, to sell her.

Itd be better to have her serviced.

That it would.

Then youd have a fine cow. You could milk her on all six teats. You wouldnt have to drink water during the harvest. You could drink sour milk. Youd just have to buy some jugs. Back in the day, at the fairs there was every kind of jug you could want clay ones, earthenware ones, tin ones. You could make cheeses. You could hang em up in your attic in straw baskets and let em cure there. They can cure for years. War comes, youve got cured cheeses. You can eat em with noodles or with bread. You can even take a hunk to the fields with you. You can plow and mow and seed all day long and you wont go hungry. Or you could tear bits off it and toss em to the rooks. Theyd follow you all day long. This way, theyll just slaughter her and eat her and shit her back out again.

Cows dont last forever either.

But while theyre there they give you milk. Besides, what lasts forever?

I had to bite my lip to stop myself saying something harsh to the old man, he was driving me crazy. I knew full well Id have had a cow. I didnt need to be reminded. Her coat was dense as thatch. She had a nice small-sized head and broad shoulders. Her hind legs were set wide apart, she almost looked like shed have grown a double udder. Also, when I went to lead her out of the shed she wouldnt let me put the rope over her horns. She wouldnt have it, she shook her head left and right to stop me. In the end I had to take her by the muzzle, stroke her, and say:

Come on, I have to build that tomb.

And now the tombs standing there unfinished and going to waste. It needs timbering on the outside. There needs to be a separate slab for the entrance, so you dont have to wall it up after every casket. And an inscription saying this is the tomb of the Pietruszka family. Maybe it could even be gilded. These days everyone has a gilded inscription. At the Konicas they dont just have an inscription that says Konica Family, but each Konica is written separately in gold Baltazar Konica, Jdrzej Konica, Adelajda Konica, Zofia Konica, ne Cholewka, when they were born, when they died, and in addition, Lord, what is man, that thou takest knowledge of him! There must be a hundred letters in all. But then the Konicas sow eight or ten acres of flax alone every year, so they can afford gilding.

People have been trying to convince me to grow flax as well. Flax is gold, they say. An acre of flax is worth five acres of wheat, seven acres of rye, and potatoes, God knows how many. And its no more work than with rye or wheat or potatoes. You sow it, pick it, dry it, thresh it, and take it to be sold. As for seed, if you contract for a supply theyll provide it. Theyll even give you a loan so you can pay them. And if theres a wet year for flax? Then itll be a wet year for rye and wheat too, to say nothing about potatoes. When its wet, everythings wet. The rain doesnt choose to fall only on wheat or potatoes or flax. On your field or on mine. Is any of us more pleasing to God? The flood covered the whole world. Only Noah was left, and he took two of every animal and two grains of every grain. And if theres a disease? Dont rye and wheat and potatoes have their own diseases? With potatoes its even worse, because they have the potato beetle. And even pheasants wont get rid of the potato beetle. One time they released pheasants into the fields, to eat the potato beetles, they said. It got quite colorful out there. Youd be mowing and a pheasant would fly up from under your feet. But did it last long? There was one group of hunters after another, and now you cant find a pheasant to save your life. So theyre sending people out again to look for beetles. And turnip, carrots, cabbage dont they all have their own diseases? What doesnt?