Mother and Me by Julian Padowicz Page A

back.
    â€œWhere is Fredek?” his mother asked when I came back to the truck.
    â€œHe’s going to the bathroom, Auntie Edna,” I said.
    â€œWeren’t you two together?” my mother asked.
    â€œWell, yes, but he went farther than I did.”
    â€œFarther?” Auntie Edna asked.
    â€œWell…”
    â€œFredek!” Auntie Edna called. The alarm in her voice was real. “Fredek, can you hear me?!”
    â€œFor godsakes, Edna, he’ll be right out,” Auntie Paula said.
    â€œWould Missus like me to find him?” Miss Bronia asked.
    â€œThat’s nonsense,” Auntie Paula said. “He’ll come out by himself when he’s through doing his business.”
    â€œWhy didn’t you stay with your cousin?” my mother asked.
    â€œI’ll go look,” Miss Bronia said.
    â€œThere may be animals,” Auntie Edna said.
    â€œDon’t be stupid,” Auntie Paula said. I didn’t like Auntie Paula.
    Miss Bronia took me by the hand. “Show me where you went,” she said. I headed straight into the trees, the way we had gone before.
    â€œI think it was this tree,” I said, pointing to the one I thought he had stopped at first. Sure enough, it was still wet. “I went to that one,” I said, pointing to my tree, “and then Fredek went to that one.”
    â€œHe did?”
    â€œYes.” I didn’t want to go into explanations.
    â€œOh, I see,” she said. “Fredek! Fredek!” she called, “it’s time to go back!”
    We waited in vain for a response. “Fredek, I’m not playing now!” Miss Bronia called, her voice more serious than before. There was still no answer.
    â€œFre …” she began again, but was cut off by the a-a-a-a-a! of Fredek’s machine gun sound behind us.
    â€œYou’re both dead!” he said as we turned to face him. He had stepped out from behind a tree, an imaginary sub-machine gun shaking in his hands.
    â€œThat’s not funny, Fredek,” Miss Bronia said. It was the first time I had heard her disapproval. “Do an about-face right now and forward march!”
    Fredek turned on his heel and began marching back toward the road. As we saw him walk out into the clear, I felt Miss Bronia squeeze my hand a little. “What were you doing, Fredek?” she whispered in a shrill little, make-believe cry, just for me to hear. “I was so worried!”
    Immediately we heard Auntie Edna’s voice. “What were you doing there? We were all worried something had happened to you!” Miss Bronia and I both laughed silently. I laughed out of happiness because I knew now that Miss Bronia didn’t really like Fredek more than me.

    When Miss Bronia and I came out of the trees, Auntie Edna was leaning with her back against the truck and her fingers against her forehead. The other two mothers had their backs to us and were saying something to her. Fredek was just disappearing inside the truck.
    The road was full of people, as before, with wagons and people on foot, all moving at the same rate, and in the same direction as we were pointed. In the distance there was the now-familiar pop-popping of guns or bombs or both. A man in suit pants and an undershirt passed by at a brisk walk holding a suitcase on his head. I couldn’t help laughing. He lookedat me reprovingly as he hurried by. I saw Mr. Dembovski, our driver, checking something on one of the rear tires of the truck. He had a cigarette between his lips. I wondered what had become of the major and his wife.
    Suddenly, I saw Mr. Dembovski jump onto the running board of our truck. In an instant he had opened the door and was inside the cab. The truck rocked slightly, and then Mr. Dembovski backed out again. He was pulling someone with him. He had the man by the coat lapels, and he dragged him out onto the dirt and almost into the drainage ditch. Had the man been trying to steal our