My Enemy's Son

"I'm Konrad. Eeee, Konrad Skalski. You see ..." newcomer suddenly lost his confidence, but regained it immediately and picked it up with renewed energy. "You don't know me, but believe me, I have really good reasons to help you."

Sławek did not believe that this stranger had any, even the slightest, reason to help him, but at that moment he was desperate and needed every help to get out of debt. He wasn't risking anything, so ...

"All right, you can come in," he invited him without enthusiasm.

"Thanks!"

The guest entered his yard, looking around again curiously.

"Anyway, what's your name?" He asked.

"What? You do not know?" Sławek was sincerely surprised.

"I know that your grandfather's name was Sławoj Domejczuk and he took out a loan, but I do not know your name."

"Did you know my grandfather?"

"No, gosh!" He cried, surprised, and stopped suddenly. "You don't recognize me?"

"No, should I? You said yourself I didn't know you."

"Yeah, but I thought you'd recognize me, you know, you saw me. Because you see, yesterday in this car ..."

***

Sławek looked at his guest suspiciously. He tried not to judge anyone, but this boy was weird to appear so suddenly at the house of a complete stranger. It was hard to believe that his intentions were sincere, especially since yesterday he was in the same car as the jerk to whom his grandfather owed money. Not only that, he was his son.

"Well, yes," Konrad began. "My story is simple. I don't get along well with my father, and I'm pissed off by the way he treats people. Believe me, you are not the only one with whom he is a doomed pig, but I didn't realize it before. Only yesterday… The fact that he did not respect your mourning is despicable and I do not want him to get away with it. I want to kick him, and the best way to do that is to help you."

The motive of Konrad's appearance at Sławek's doorstep seemed not very noble, but simple and acceptable. It is true that Domejczuk himself did not imagine that any son could fight with his father, but what does he know, after all, Sławek's father had been dead for eight years.

Konrad Skalski gave the impression of self-confident and decisive - in this he resembled his father, but if he uses these qualities in his case, they may prove helpful. However, Sławek was not able to fully trust him. It wasn't just that the boy was the son of a guy who wanted an exorbitant amount of money from him. Domejczuk simply did not see the possibility that someone would suddenly find a solution to his problem.

"How?" He asked.

"What 'how?'"

"How do you want to help me?"

"Well ... I don't know," he admitted.

Sławek felt that he was right. This boy was unable to help him in any way.

"… Yet," added Konrad with firm emphasis. "Look, I only found out about your situation yesterday, so I haven't recognized it yet, but we'll definitely figure something out. Give me a chance. Two heads are better than one, right? I really want to help you. Besides… forgive me, but it doesn't look like you have another ally."

It was true. Slawek was completely alone and this awareness suddenly stung him very painfully. It's not that he wasn't aware of his loneliness, just that he didn't want to be constantly reminded of it.

He scowled at the visitor.

"Do you really want to go against your father?"

"Yes," Konrad's eyes gleamed with determination. "My father ... Anyway, it doesn't matter. I really don't like the way he treats people. Only I hadn't noticed it before. Only now ... By the way, I'm sorry about your grandfather."

His sympathy sounded sincere and Sławek felt something tighten inside him. He mustn't cry, he thought, not in front of people.

"I've been thinking a bit about how to get the money," he said, turning to hide his wet eyes, "but I didn't think of anything. We don't, I mean I don't have anything of value for sale, but I thought maybe I would auction some of my grandfather's sculptures."

"He was a sculptor?" Konrad inquired. "Wow!"

"He didn't study at the Academy of Fine Arts or whatever. He was an ordinary folk artist. Fifty years ago, he did exhibit a bit, but it was during the commune. Nobody has been interested in his works for years. Sometimes only someone ordered a figurine for a roadside shrine or some altar."

"Could I see his work?"

"Actually, why not. Before you arrived, I was gonna go and see what I could sell. To be honest, I don't know if I would get a thousand zlotys for everything ..."

He led Konrad through the door and they entered a corner room with windows facing south and west. The whole interior was filled with wooden figures of various sizes, mainly depicting the Virgin Mary or some saints in halo. Konrad did not recognize them, he was never interested in this subject, but the small workshop had a nice atmosphere and the wooden sculptures were really nice.

Skalski looked around attentively. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Sławek standing at the very threshold, depressed. At the sight of this, he felt sad as well. He didn't remember his grandparents, so he couldn't imagine what the bond between grandfather and grandson might look like, but it looked like Sławek and Sławoj were really close to each other.

Just like him with his mother.

If Konrad lost her ...

No, the very thought was too terrible for him.

He turned because he had the impression that he was an intruder in Slawek's mourning. It must be terrible to be so all alone in the world.

All the figures, larger and smaller, were exposed, yet there was no dust on them. Apparently, the author cared for them very much during his lifetime. Or it was done by his grandson, who clearly had a fondness for his grandfather's work. Only in the corner there was something large covered with a sheet. Intrigued, Skalski stepped closer.

"What's this?" He asked. "Can I see it?"

However, he did not wait for an answer and broke off the cover with one move. There was a sculpture underneath it, but it was completely different in style. It showed a kneeling woman holding a man's limp body on her lap.

"Is this... pieta?" He asked. "It's beautiful. Really. But ... It's a pity your grandfather didn't have time to finish it."

"It's not my grandfather's" Sławek snatched the cloth from his hand and covered the sculpture again.

"So whose?"

Konrad was genuinely interested. He had the opportunity to visit quite a bit of the world and see many works of art in Europe's most famous museums, but this wooden sculpture had something special about it. He couldn't figure out what in particular, had seen her too briefly, but he wanted to see her again. And that must have been art, he thought, recreating the sculpture in his mind.

It was through the eyes, he decided. The figure of Mary has supernaturally large, emotional, expressive eyes, which is not easy to capture in a wooden sculpture. He had only seen them for a moment, but he could have sworn the woman had tears in the corners of her eyes.

"Mine" admitted Sławek reluctantly.