“Of course we need to stop him,” Mrs. Golonko said, pulling out a pack of cigarettes.
Adam wanted to stop her, but seeing that no one else reacted, he resigned himself to the prospect of smoke soaking into his cassock. Curious how cigarettes smelled so good on Emil and yet so revolting on anyone else.
He glanced at the cake on his plate and wondered how a cake infused with the smoke and wood of Emil’s scent would have tasted. His thoughts once more drifted to the most sinful confession he’d ever heard, and his mouth went dry as he imagined being in the place of Emil’s lover.
“I am visiting the pastor of Belkowice tonight, so I’ll have to be on my way soon. Besides, Father Adam is closer to Emil in age. Maybe he can talk some sense into the man,” Pastor Marek suggested, ripping Adam out of his depraved fantasies.
“M-me?”
Mrs. Janina harrumphed. “Are you afraid of him now? I’m sure his crows won’t touch a priest.”
“Your wit is getting sharper every day,” Adam said and rose to his feet, because there was no point in resisting.
“What was that?” Mrs. Janina asked and took the plate with Adam’s unfinished cake.
“I said I’ll be on my way then,” Adam said through gritted teeth.
Father Marek smiled and grabbed another piece of cake. “There we go. Problem solved. Bring some milk from Mrs. Mazur while you’re at it.”
Adam kept his face straight despite fuming on the inside. “Are we not afraid Emil’s influence will turn the milk sour?”
The pastor nodded. “Good point. Pick it up on the way back.”
***
Adam had avoided Emil since he’d caught him attempting to steal the monstrance, but there was no backing out of this. He’d intended to go dressed as he was for lunch—in a black dress shirt with a priest’s collar, but the late May heat made him change his mind, and he settled on denim knee-length shorts and his nice white T-shirt with the 18th-century map of Warsaw printed at the front. He usually wore it when he didn’t want to stand out as a clergyman, as it transformed him into a young man like many others. If he was to talk Emil into anything, he should try doing so as a friend rather than a priest.
A black cat watched him from the side of the dirt road, but as Adam walked past it, the animal stretched and followed him with a meow.
A smile tugged on Adam’s lips, and he scooted down, gently sliding the back of his hand along the cat’s back.
“Are you Emil’s familiar?” he asked and shook his head at Mrs. Golonko’s fit.
The Church saw divination as dangerous, because flirting with the occult had the potential of inviting demons into the world, but while Adam hadn’t known Emil for very long, he suspected the man didn’t believe in anything at all. Which meant that if he was to try influencing Emil, he’d have to use nonspiritual arguments. Like the fact that with all the black magic gossip about him, fortune telling was the last thing he should be doing.
Unless, of course, Emil didn’t just lie to people for the fun of it and practiced some kind of magic. Adam had no idea how he could deal with that.
The black cat walked him all the way to Emil’s homestead but skirted away when Jinx rose his massive head. Tied to one of the fruit trees with a longe, the huge stallion whinnied in greeting and raised one of its front legs several times before he returned to grazing.
Waving at him for no reason at all, since the animal couldn’t possibly understand the gesture, Adam took in the property. He’d seen many old homes since he’d come to Dybukowo, but Emil’s could easily be a stand-in for a witch’s house in some historical drama. Embraced by the dense woods descending from nearby slopes, it featured a thatched roof and small windows with blue lines painted along their frames. Large enough to house three generations of the same family, it had its own orchard, a barn, and a set of other buildings. Everything was in good working order, especially considering there was only one person living here.
It took Adam a while to get the courage to knock, but no one answered the door.
So that was that.
Adam was about to leave, but he heard a laugh somewhere farther behind the house, and he couldn’t help but succumb to the sin of curiosity.
The trees beyond the border of the homestead beckoned him with their bright green leaves, so he went, listening to the voice that resembled Emil’s. A small footpath led from a second gate to the property, and he followed it, with his heart beating slightly faster when a woodpecker drilled into a tree somewhere above. The green-and-brown expanse ahead stretched forever, engulfing him with its fresh yet earthy scent and gentle bird song.
And the aroma of smoke and wood he associated with Emil? He could sense that too.
But the image he saw once he stood on the top of a low slope made him forget why he’d come here in the first place.
Emil, naked as the day he was born, stood knee deep in a crystal-clear stream, which flowed so fast it splashed his thighs.
“Come on, Leia! Don’t make me freeze my balls off,” Emil yelled at a black goat scrambling on a rock submerged in the shallow water.
Adam entered a surreal world where the handsomest of men lay himself bare before him, and he couldn’t even be blamed for it, because he hadn’t planned to stare. Tall and muscular, Emil had wide shoulders and narrow hips, which naturally steered Adam’s gaze to his buttocks. Cute dimples in their sides deepened when Emil moved, trying to help the animal. And while he was facing away, the brief movement between the toned thighs made Adam’s heart beat faster.
Emil was like an ancient river god about to descend back into the waves.
“Why are you naked?” he asked, knowing that if he was to keep his sanity, this shameless staring had to end.
Emil’s head whipped back in an instant and he stilled. “What are you doing on my property?” He paused, turning that bit more Adam’s way. “Thirsty again?”
Adam stiffened as he struggled to keep his gaze on Emil’s handsome features. He could see the firm chest, the long waves of hair, and surely Emil’s crotch was on show as well, but he would not tempt fate. He would not go down that rabbit hole again. And… was that a nipple ring? He quickly looked up from the twin metal balls attached to Emil’s nipple below one more tattoo. “I’m here on official business. For God’s sake, cover yourself!”
“No, you look away if you have to stand there. The stupid goat’s been on that rock for half an hour. She’s afraid to come back. You know what? Take your shoes off and help me, since you’re already here.” He powered through the water and back to the shore, where he grabbed a pair of briefs from a messy pile of fabric and pulled them on. “There. Happy? For your sake.”
Now Adam regretted he hadn’t taken a peek, but as he approached, the damp underwear Emil wore revealed the exact shape and length of his cock. It was that same cock Emil claimed to have let another man suck, the same cock that had been in another man’s anus, the same one that had sprayed sperm all over freckled buttocks.
He should really have worn the cassock, because his own penis was filling so fast he needed to step into that stream to keep his erection from growing.
Why was God trying him in a way so insidious? He’d done nothing wrong.
Adam kicked off his sneakers and socks, before stepping into the water, which assaulted him with a temperature so low his feet instantly felt as if they were going numb in a prelude to frostbite. Yet all he could see was the damp skin on Emil’s shoulders and back, and the dark hair reaching all the way to his waistline.
“Tell me what to do,” he said, approaching the animal, which stared at him with eyes that seemed to drift into two different directions.
“We just need to grab her by the horns and lead her back through the water. I don’t know why she did that. I only left the gate open for two minutes.”
Adam’s gaze once more strayed where it shouldn’t when Emil pushed back some of his hair and took a step closer. Leia chose this moment to release a scream that could have originated in
hell, and Adam flinched, grabbing Emil’s arm not to fall over into the icy water.
“Goats do that sometimes, I know, it’s freaky.” Emil laughed, but didn’t shrug Adam off.
Adam’s breath was still shallow when he looked up into the dark green of Emil’s eyes, but he let go, even if taking his time.
Thankfully, Emil didn’t try anything funny, as eager to leave the stream as Adam was, and after a bit of push and pull they managed to lead Leia—called so because she was as sassy and independent as Princess Leia from Star Wars—to the safety of the shore. By the time Adam left the water, he could barely feel the grass under his feet. He could only imagine how bad Emil’s toes had to feel, so he took over goat-holding duty while the other man dressed in jeans.
“Why did you take off your pants anyway? What if children came to play around here?”
Emil cocked his head. “What? No one comes here. We’re at the back of my house. I didn’t want to get my clothes wet.” He pointed to Adam’s shorts which had damp spots all over.
It was hard to disagree with that logic, so Adam shrugged. “At least it’s hot.”
“Yeah, we’ll dry in no time. I’ve never met a dumber goat than Leia. She might have horns, but her spirit is that of a chicken.” Emil shook his head, watching the black goat prance around and spray them with more water.
Adam smirked. “Didn’t know you had more animals. Any other secrets?”
Emil cocked his head and the way he focused on Adam made him shiver more than the cold water had. “Better tell me what this ‘official business’ you’re here on is. I don’t see a collar around your neck.”
Adam rubbed his nape, already embarrassed over what he was about to say. “A parishioner, who shall remain anonymous, visited us today and said you’re telling people’s fortunes. As in, lying to them. And I’ve been asked to… er, investigate.”
“Mrs. Golonko, wasn’t it?” Emil raised his eyebrows and put his hands on his hips, as steady and imposing as the mountains around them.
Adam swallowed, feeling as if he were shrinking in the face of such masculine beauty. His gaze strayed to Emil’s left pec where three dates had been tattooed in a neat font alongside four small crosses. The ink surely commemorated important deaths, but Adam’s mouth still watered as if he’d just smelled his Mom’s roast. “Did she come here first?”
Emil shook his head. “She always gets other people to do her dirty business.” He turned on his heel and gestured for Adam to follow him into the house.
Adam stuck his hands into his pockets and glanced down Emil’s body, past the broad back to the compact ass. He should not have been staring, but keeping his thoughts in check was too hard sometimes.
“Yeah. She’s not the nicest person out there. But since when are you a fortune teller? Because it’s just make-believe, isn’t it?” Adam asked, silently praying that he hadn’t been wrong about Emil, and the man wasn’t a devil worshipper who kept Leia for some dark magic purpose.
Emil opened the back door to his home and let Adam pass into the shadowy space inside. It was like entering a whole different realm after Adam’s walk in the sunshine, and his eyes had to adjust.
“How is this any of your business? You come here, all smiles, but our last meeting didn’t end on a friendly note,” Emil said and pulled on a T-shirt.
His words stung, but Adam chose to ignore it. “You were the one to walk away. I am asking, because people don’t have the best opinions about you. Do you think it’s a good idea to let them think you’re dabbling in the occult?”
Emil sighed and pushed back his long hair. Adam wished he could entangle his fingers in it too. Now that his eyes got accustomed to the shadows, he was surprised to see an interior that would suit an elderly couple much more than a young metalhead.
The low ceiling made the large room cozy, and after a moment of confusion, Adam realized they were in a kitchen with an old-fashioned gas stove, a sink, and lots of cupboards with everything from towels to rows and rows of jars containing various kinds of preserves. Bundles of herbs spread a homely aroma from the wooden beams, and the walls were crowded with pictures depicting people in traditional dress, animals, and nature. One side of the room was dedicated to family members, who stared at Adam from framed photos, all of them curious what he wanted from their Emil.
He glanced toward the window, only to stumble into Emil when he faced a magpie hung from the wooden curtain rod by the neck. “The hell?”
Emil rolled his eyes. “It’s tradition. To ward away the devil. My grandparents always fought over it, but when my grandma died, grandpa finally got his wish and hung it up. You want a drink?”
Adam rubbed his face and nodded, still not over the fact that he was about to receive something to drink in the house of a man who kept a dead bird in his kitchen. “Yes.”
Emil raised a bottle without a label in one hand and a jar of loose leaf tea in the other. “Wholesome tea, or advocaat? Made it myself.”
Adam snorted, oddly at ease in the homely space, despite the bird offending his senses. Maybe this house was where Emil got his scent from? The whole place smelled just like him. “You only live once. I’ll have the advocaat,” he said, noting a bowl of cut fruit on the floor in the corner. He didn’t think of it much, since Emil clearly adhered to local traditions, whether he believed in them or not. Something pulled him to that spot though, and his stomach grumbled. Maybe he’d eaten too little for lunch after all.
Emil grinned and poured them both generous helpings of the liquor. “You won’t regret it. I… I’m sorry I pushed your buttons like that last time. I was rattled by Zofia’s death.”
Adam exhaled, and while he was still a bit angry over what had happened that afternoon, the apology soothed his bruised ego. “I understand. No need to mention it,” he said, eyeing the bowl again. “What’s that? Are you feeding mice, or something?”
Emil sat by a table made of an irregular slab of wood on a frame of four legs, and had a sip from his glass. “My grandma… she used to say you have to keep Chort fed if you don’t want misfortune to enter your home. I know, it’s stupid, but tradition is all I have left of her.”
No wonder Mrs. Janina kept her bowl behind the broom, if this was to serve the devil, not ward him off. The pastor might be laid back, but he surely wouldn’t be tolerant of that under his own roof.
“So you’ve kept two opposing traditions in honor of your grandparents?” Adam asked, gesturing at the magpie and sat close to Emil. Their deaths must have been among the ones tattooed on Emil’s chest. The first one—marked with two crosses would have been that of his parents, since they’d perished together in a fire.
Emil glanced to one of the family photos, and his smile, stiff and oddly vulnerable squeezed Adam’s heart. It was the saddest he’d ever seen. “I suppose I have. You must find it all very strange.”
Adam tasted the liquor, surprised by its sharpness. It was also very sweet though, and creamy in a way that made him believe he could get drunk on it fast if he wasn’t careful. “I admit, there’s a lot to take in. I’m not familiar with this kind of stuff at all. And as a priest… I’m not always sure how to treat all those folklore superstitions. The closest we got to that in my family was putting hay under the tablecloth on Christmas Eve.”
“I know I fucked up the confession, but can this stay just between us?” Emil asked, eyeing Adam with those eyes like charcoal covered in moss.
“Can what stay between us?”
Emil bit the lips which Adam shouldn’t consider ‘kissable’ but he did. “I’m not doing very well. Financially. It’s a pain in the ass. There’s not much work around here, and the fortune telling… My gran was what some people call a whisperer woman. People considered her in tune with the local spirits, that kind of thing. Good Catholics would come from Sunday mass straight to our home and ask her for a good combination of herbs for their house, or to get help with conceiving a baby. So even if I don’t believe in any of it, some people think her gift
is in my blood.” Emil shrugged. “Might as well monetize it.”
Adam leaned back in the chair, studying Emil’s eyes as he swallowed more of the homemade liquor. He did sympathize with Emil’s plight, but it didn’t make Emil’s actions any less wrong. “Why don’t you just borrow the money? You’re taking money from people who trust you, and you lie to them.”
Emil slouched. “It’s their problem if they choose to believe in fortune telling, Adam. I’m already in debt as it is.”
Adam. Not Father. Not Mister. Adam. As if they were close enough to use each other’s given names. It gave him pleasure to hear his from Emil’s lips.
“Is there really nothing else you can do around here? What is it you’re saving for?”
Seeing Emil as a man of flesh and bone, with debt, mundane problems and a knot in his hair should have been enough to put an end to Adam’s infatuation, but instead, the conversation was only throwing coal into the fire. Adam wanted to know more. He was hungry to eat up every single nugget of information Emil was willing to give.
Emil sipped more alcohol, his elbows resting on the table top as he looked at the dead magpie across the room. “I want to leave. For at least a while, but I need some serious capital to do that, because I don’t want to sell the house, and I could stand getting rid of Leia, but never of Jinx, and that horse will outlive us all, so here I am. Fortune telling. It’s harmless, okay?”
A flash of discomfort pulled at Adam’s insides. “When are you planning to go? Do you have… someone you want to visit?” he asked carefully, finishing his liquor in a single gulp.
He was ashamed of the relief he felt when Emil shook his head.
“I stopped making plans long ago. Nothing ever works out for me. Zofia was supposed to look after my homestead for a week, and now she’s dead. I tried to take care of my grandfather to the best of my abilities, and he died too. I tried to get a steady job, but all I get is seasonal work and promises nothing ever comes out of. I’m offering my clients entertainment and conversation about their issues. But I’ll only make any decisions once I save up. It’s not good to have too much hope. It will always spit in your face.”
Where the Devil Says Goodnight Page 10