After Every Night Comes Day

"Nonsense!" Konrad's mother replied firmly. "You have the right to rest during your holiday. And you should get more independent experiences. Besides, she added quietly, I'd rather your father do not take you on his business trips."

Konrad swallowed loudly. Yes, he did not want to accompany his father either. Not after what he saw today. At last he found out how heartless his father was and sincerely refused to learn from him how to deal with people. He didn't want to become like him. He didn't even want to see such vile behavior, but he didn't make himself confess it to his mother. He had the impression that if he did, he would destroy the last sentiments she had towards her husband.

So maybe he should do it after all?

No, not yet. First, he must build up his own strength to be able to stand up to his father and protect his mother, only later will he be able to reveal all his crimes to her. Only when he will be able to correct his bad deeds.

So he had to help the boy he saw this morning. If he is able to help him, it will mean that he is ready for a more serious fight.

***

Grandpa used to say that after every night comes day. He was right. Sławek got up at the pale dawn, awakened by the singing of birds, opened the window and breathed fresh air.

Yesterday was terrible, but it was a thing of the past. Today a new day has risen, and with it all hopes have awakened. It is true that Sławek still missed his grandfather and felt a twinge in his heart every time he looked at his empty bed or his favorite mug, but he knew that he had to find the courage and strength to face the challenge thrown to him yesterday.

It was impossible to get so much money, he knew it, and although the mere thought of the enormous debt made his heart and head hurt, he tried not to despair at all costs.

The sun was shining brightly, the birds were singing happily, so maybe somewhere in this divine world there is a lifeline for him? Wherever. Anywhere. Sławek could give up, pay back all his grandfather's property and move to the city himself and find a job. He wasn't too strong physically, but he had skillful hands. Surely, he could find something, anything, such as handing out leaflets or spreading merchandise on shelves in stores, just to earn a living. Only the thought of losing this house and this land that Grandpa loved so much hurt so much that he couldn't catch his breath. This place had belonged to his ancestors for countless generations. Maybe he was stupidly sentimental, but during the years when Grandpa was his only relative, he had learned to be especially devoted to this place.

Two brown chickens started fighting for something in the yard. Their indignant cluck snapped Sławek out of his thoughts and tore him away from the window. He turned on the gas under the kettle and took the scrambled eggs from the refrigerator.

Sławek was not some 19th-century peasant who did not know the reality. He was a young son of the 21st century who was not unfamiliar with technology or the knowledge of how to look for a job online, even abroad. He was always a good student, not a six, but in all subjects he had a solid four, sometimes gusting to five. He knew English and German quite well and was great at manual work. As a typical teenager, he was not satisfied with his appearance and did not realize that his slim figure, fair hair, which a positivist writer might describe as wheaten and intensely blue eyes, attracted women's attention. If he were older and more calculating, he might have come up with the idea of ​​using his beauty to get enough money to pay off his debt, or at least to ensure himself a decent life. Sławek, however, had such a pure heart that a similar thought would not even occur to him. So he had to get the money by hard work or by selling something that had some value.

Here, however, there were problems.

Working for so much money required time that Sławek did not have, and if he or his grandfather had something of value, they would have sold it long ago. True, the disease came to his grandfather suddenly and took him away in a matter of days, but they both knew he was old and would not live forever. Grandpa would never have left him with such a problem if he had the resources to deal with it.

On the other hand, his grandfather was old-fashioned and not entirely practical as an artist. Sławek sighed. He, too, was kind of an artist and had no head of making money, but necessity was a necessity. Grandfather sculpted until the last days of his life, and although his works were no longer fashionable, maybe some of them could be sold decently at online auctions.

Sławek Domejczuk was chewing scrambled eggs and stale bread without appetite. For him, the grandfather's sculptures were priceless, for others they might be worthless, but even if he could get a lot of money for them, there was something wrong with selling the heritage. But did Sławek really have the luxury of choice?

He got up heavily from the table and threw the plate with the fork down the sink. He wiped his hands and was about to go to his grandfather's studio when a car pulled up in front of the house.

Guests? So early in the morning? Or is it the debt guy again? Whoever it was, Sławek did not feel like the company of some strangers. He even considered pretending not to be home, but decided it would be cowardly. No matter who has come, he will face them.

He left the house and headed for the gate. As he followed the well-trodden path, he watched the stranger carefully.

At the side of the road, in front of the gate, there was a boy about his age, maybe a little older, looking around curiously. He was wearing jeans and a white and navy blue striped T-shirt. A stuffed travel bag was slung over his shoulder. Sławek did not know this dark blonde with hazel eyes who seemed energetic, confident and completely carefree. The bedding merchant? No, rather not. He was too young, his skin was too fair, and he wore too good clothes. Although, who knows? Nobody said that peddlers had to wear cheap clothes.

"Good morning!" the boy called when he noticed Sławek approaching. He raised his hand in a friendly, welcoming gesture.

"Thank you, I'm not buying anything," he replied, frowning and turning on his heel.

"What? No, I'm not selling anything!" He assured him hotly. "I'm here to help you pay off your debt."

Sławek stopped immediately. How the hell does he know about his problem?

"Who you are?" He asked suspiciously looking at the newcomer.