Killing Auntie by Andrzej Bursa Page A

if you weren’t full of all those mysteries I still know nothing about.”
    I squeezed Teresa’s hand. She cheered me up. I felt like a good man. I gave a girl more than she expected. I made her happy the way I once made that old Capuchin priest in an empty church happy.
    â€œDo you want to be with me?” I asked.
    â€œI do.”
    We threw the parcels into the river from a high, overgrown bank. We didn’t discuss their contents. Only on our way back through the woods did Teresa ask me, a little concerned:
    â€œDarling, what was in my parcel?”
    â€œWell, you know, surely …”
    â€œYes, but … which part?”
    I remained silent.
    â€œCome on, tell me. The leg?”
    â€œOf course not, the leg would have been much heavier.”
    â€œI don’t mean the whole leg …”
    â€œTeresa, stop it.”
    â€œYou’re right. I’m sorry.”
    She quickly lifted my hand to her lips. We sat down on a stack of logs in a clearing. Teresa took out two rolls and offered me one. Leaning on a log, I was contemplating the clouds drifting over the treetops.
    â€œYou know what, Elfie?”
    â€œWhat, love?”
    â€œTomorrow I have national defense training again.”
    â€œPoor thing, I’m scared.”
    â€œWhy?”
    â€œI’m always scared before your training.”
    â€œDon’t worry. It won’t be for much longer now.”
    â€œWhat makes you think it won’t be for much longer?”
    â€œI’m sure of it, my little one. Before I met you, I didn’t believe my life could change in any way. And I accepted that. In fact, it never bothered me much. But now, when I’m involved in such an extraordinary affair … Just think, Jerzy, it’s amazing …” She fell silent and, after thinking for a while, she added with conviction: “I just know that everything will turn out as you want.”
    I waved my hand wearily. I knew that Teresa didn’t really understand any of it. But her optimism and unbounded faith in me began to disturb me. When we plotted our escape, planned our travels and other adventures, I usually put forward the most bizarre, fantastic ideas. I could even find logical arguments for them. And the down-to-earth, practical Teresa fell for my fanciful nonsense. As long as we believed in it together, it was all very nice. But now I was struck by what an enormous distance separated me from those moments. Did it mean I was bored with love? Probably not. I needed Teresa, I wouldn’t want to lose her. Yet I realized with absolute clarity that the only real thing was the corpse, at once a millstone around my neck and my lifeline.

11
    I CHECKED THE TIMETABLE AND REALIZED THE BETTER OPTION would be to return by bus. Any other time I would have been disappointed, but today the prospect almost pleased me. I was disappointed by The Other Town. I tried to shorten the wait for the departure by discovering something special about buses. Unfortunately, I couldn’t find anything special. Their shape and yellow headlamps just didn’t fit into any metaphor. They were horrifying. But only in their objective existence. I turned my eyes to the station clock, hoping this poetic object might retain something of the fairy tale I’d expected from The Other Town. I looked at it intensely, lingering on the bright little star at the top. Still, I felt I was losing my focus despite putting all my imagination and intelligence into the effort. Suddenly I heard the characteristic blare of a horn and at the same time, maybe just a few seconds before, a young voice:
    â€œCareful, mister!”
    Someone yanked my arm. I let myself be pulled back. A few inches before my eyes passed a bus. I turned around towards my rescuer and recognized The Girl I Used to See. Before I could get my bearings and get out of harm’s way, I stood in the middle of the road used by buses returning to the terminal. I had