Danka turned into a stone statue and watched not her reflection in the mirror, but this stranger whom she did not know yet. Yes, he was handsome, tall, slightly grizzled. He was no longer a young man, probably in his sixties. Such often caught the fancies of young women, especially if they had their own boat, or a Mercedes car, but this one did not look like a millionaire. It was clear that the purchase of the fountain pen in the commission store was for him his life’s decision.
The saleswoman, seeing the effect the coat produced on Danka, asked: “Shall I pack it? It suits you, like a dream.”
Danka came to her senses.
“No, thank you,” - she said absently. “I have to think about it. I will come again.”
The disappointed saleswoman hung the coat on a hanger and Danka left the store. She waited on the street so long until the man came out. Not having the slightest idea why she was acting this way, she followed him to the bus stop, got into the same bus and watched from afar as he sat next to the window, took out of his pocket the box double-wrapped in colorful paper, opened it and took out the pen, examining it with affection. Once, he even sniffed the nib. So obsessed with the details he was.
When the guy got up, Danka stepped off the bus with him and followed him from a safe distance until he came to the door of his home. Then she felt that the mission had been fulfilled.
She recorded in her memory the address before returning home. In the evening, she long wondered why she acted that way.
Had she fallen in love with him? Was this the so-called love at first sight? But no. It could not be as the guy was emotionally indifferent to her. So what? More and more strange things had been happening to her lately.
She thought that would be the end of it, but it happened again. The second meeting could not be a coincidence.
That day, Danka was in Lazienki Park before the noon. As they had a shift work system in the Delicatessen Store, she sometimes had free mornings. One day, before going to her work, she went for a walk to Lazienki Park. The weather was so great that she could not do otherwise. She sat down on one of the benches in front of the statue of Chopin and gazed at his face, which happily surrendered to the caresses of golden rays.
So wonderful. Why couldn’t summer last throughout the year? Could man ever managed to tame nature so as to change the orbit of the earth in such a way that the winter would exist only where they wanted it, for example in Greenland, or at the poles? She closed her eyes. She could hear only the chirping of birds and the distant calls of playing children.
Then she heard steps. Someone walked in front of her on the gravel alley, the footsteps dying at the next bench. She opened her eyes and looked. At the same time, she almost screamed with shock.
It was him, the man from the commission store. And again, she felt an urgent need to get closer to him, talk to him. Who knew? Maybe she had met this man sometime before in her life? No, certainly not. Danka, having an exceptionally good memory of faces, would remember him for sure. She could even recognize some customers after many weeks of not seeing them and hundreds of people appeared at the store everyday. She wanted to approach the stranger in the park, but she hesitated. Besides, what would she say to him anyway? That she wanted to talk to him even as she has no idea why? For his part, he did not even look at her. He was clearly immersed in his thoughts, throwing from time to time a questioning glance towards his intent listener, the great composer with his willow. Finally, he got up and went toward the exit. Danka waited a moment, then she also stood up and walked like an automaton, mindlessly following him and trying not to lose her sight of him. They walked along the Pulawska street to Mokotow. Further, the guy turned into one of the smaller streets and stopped in front of an old villa, many of which were located in the area. He opened the door and went inside.
"Where the hell did he live?" Danka wondered. "Here, or over there? Maybe he just moved? And what the hell do I even care?"
To any of these questions, she had no answers.
***
The return from "nowhere" was for Countess Z a real shock. It was a little like the experience of passengers on a fast train, when, after a long ride through an underground tunnel, they suddenly found themselves under the sunlight on the other side of the mountain. Her soul, attached to the ground with the aspen anchor, could not break free from her decaying body and for 300 long years, she suffered indescribable loneliness and sadness underground. When finally the wooden pin was removed from between her ribs, no longer fulfilling the role of the chains of hell, the curse of the damned Jesuit ceased to operate and the intangible eyes of Countess Z once more saw the light of day.
She was almost unbelievably lucky. If the side drain along Wisłostrada highway had been designed in a different place, if Rybarczyk had not thrown aside the damn pin which for so many years did not want to decay, secured by some potions and magical spells of the monk, the material world could still remain unavailable for her and who knew for how long. She could have been buried forever.
Now that she was alive again, her first task was to find someone who she could use as her vessel, so she could once more dwell among the ordinary mortals and find back her Henryk. And she was sure that he still existed, that he lived somewhere here, among those funny beings that looked so similar to each other. Maybe he was unaware of his own origin, but still, he was himself and Countess Z knew that she must find him. Why? Revenge for having allowed those beasts to execute the order of the Inquisition? No. That was forgiven him long ago. She even understood him. After all, it was she who killed his wife, the young Jadwiga, who stood in the way to their love. Although Henry did not love his wife, it still must have been so cruel to him. He never could come to terms with what had happened. Yes, it was unnecessary, her own fault. She wanted him for herself only and immediately. Because Countess Z could love, love hungrily and possessively. She loved him because she loved also herself so it was necessary that he had to belong exclusively to her. But she played this game wrong. She was the only one to blame and finally, she had served her cruel punishment for her possessiveness. But now, the time came to find him and when that happened, he would forever remain hers to enjoy.
The Countess was lucky again. The person she had met had all that was needed. Young, pretty, healthy, and most of all, lacking a very strong personality. That made it easy to master her character and customize it to her own needs. She was at the time, smart, which was also important and as it turned out, her husband was a completely harmless man, a kind of maniac and she had no burden in the form of children or elderly parents. Those would have been big hurdles.
Countess Z quickly learned about the new world. She immediately noticed that from the streets of Warsaw, the carriages had disappeared. The city had grown to gigantic proportions, and the people walked, dressed in ridiculous clothes that all looked the same. It was impossible to distinguish aristocracy from the populace just by their outfit. Could it be that the social classes had vanished, too?
There was some conflict at this point. The Countess wanted to spruce herself up with Parisian dresses with flounces and Danka could not understand what was going on. Yet it was necessary to fight stormy, mental battles to force this simpleton to wear better dresses. The most difficult was to take her to the salon, then teach her how to move with grace and of course, the first, very basic lessons of seduction. Fortunately, Danka was docile woman and little by little, she made some progress.
And that was when, during a visit to one of the few stores where one could get some French clothes: She saw Henryk!!!
He stood leaning against the counter wearing such a bizarre jacket like all other men wore and watched intently an object under the glass top. She knew right away it was him. He was a little bit different of course, his face a little changed. He was somewhat older than he used to be, but it was her Henryk for sure.
Of course, he did not recognize her, not only because she appeared in such a completely amended form, but also because, like all mortals
, he was endowed with the gift of forgetting. He had no idea whom he once was. He simply did not remember. Countess Z stood rooted to the spot, allowing Danka to answer some stupid questions of the saleswoman. She did not expect to meet him so fast. It was really shocking, even for her.
She immediately decided not to lose him so she accompanied him to the house where he lived and remembered the place well. It was necessary to develop a plan, this time slowly, carefully, not to expose herself to the risk of losing him again.
After two days, she decided to do something. At night, when Danka slept heavily with her mathematical husband, tenderly embracing this skinny intellectual, the Countess went in her incorporeal form to the building where Henryk lived. It turned out that he no longer lived there. Could her luck begin to leave? She was distraught. She even considered strangling his wife, but without a material body, it could not be done. Finally, she remembered that this kind of experience with Jadwiga did not turn out for good, so she changed her mind and went back to the apartment of Danka. However, she remained in the dining room until the end of the night. The thought of finding herself in the arms of a pale half-man filled her with disgust.
***
"What do I actually care?" Danka asked herself the same question again.
She did not understand why, but she felt a strange relief when she obtained this second address of the stranger. But what if he did not live here? What if he was just visiting someone?
She went to work by taxi to make up for lost time and the rest of her day she spent on business trips, phone calls to the management office, checking accounts, orders etc. As a store manager, she had less time to do what she liked most in this job - interacting with customers. Yes, it was the price she had to pay for the change in position.
She missed something strongly now, she lacked the human smile. Moving quickly through the shop, (now she was doing everything in a hurry) she aroused the attention of customers, especially men. She learned to recognize from their eyes who undressed her with their gazes, and who in his mind already saw her in his bed. She also noticed that she had started looking at them greedily, but not quite in the same way as a woman in need of sex. She was not interested in the appearance of men, or their faces, or clothing. With astonishment, she found that what most interested her were their necks.
When just recently, she invited one of the men to her office to hear his complaint on some goods, she could not look away from his young yet strong neck. It was a long, naked neck. Under the skin of the athlete, she could see two deep blue veins pulsating to the rhythm of his heart. These veins attracted her eyes like a magnet. She rose up from her seat and stood closer, right next to him. Listening to his complaint, he stared at the young and strong neck with such intensity that the lad, terrified by her gaze, stopped in mid-sentence, apologized and left quickly into the street, forgetting completely what he came for. Then Danka discovered her other new talent - she was able to interact with people not only using her appearance but also with her eyes.
That evening, something really bad happened.
After dinner, from which Danka was unable to swallow even a bite, and after Jakub had hidden in his room under the cloud of numbers constantly circling around his head, Danka released Mancia from her cage. Then, for the second time, she sank her sharp teeth into the neck of the poor animal. The blood was sweet, delicious. She recalled the moment when as a little girl, she tasted for the first time kogel-mogel - egg yolks beaten with sugar - a delicious dessert prepared by her mother. She had never forgotten the pleasure. Now, for the second time in her life, she experienced a similar ecstasy. It was impossible to describe this feeling and Danka this time no longer felt either shame or remorse. She just did what she wanted to do. She was hungry with a special kind of hunger, famine, which no human food was able to satisfy.
The next day, when Danka came back from work, Mancia lay on the bottom of the cage, stiff and dead. Danka brought her down the street to the town square, dug there a hole in the grass and buried her lovely pet in it. She did not cry after that. On the contrary, she went immediately to the Nowy Swiat street to one still open pet store and bought another Mancia, an almost identical pet. Jakub, of course, noticed nothing. It was even doubtful if he knew that they had such a creature at home. Only then Danka could breathe easily. She could not even imagine what would happen if the same feeling came back. It did not have a lot in common with normal hunger. It was something a hundred times stronger, unbridled lust for this divine taste of blood flowing down the throat as two streams of fluid pumped directly from the veins. Perhaps it was a similar delight to the taste of spring water after a few days of wandering under the scorching desert sun. After a while, she gave up wondering where such a bizarre craving came from. So it was and so apparently it had to be.
Therefore, this pet was necessary. Danka was frightened by the sudden thought that if it was not there... No, that would be too horrible to think about. Perplexed, she became aware of the fact that her eyes gazed with clear interest at the wiry, mathematical neck of Jakub. If the small pig was not at hand, and she would again be struck by a sudden attack of the rabid hunger, who could tell whether she could be in control of her crazy lust?
***
Countess Z came late in the evening to the new place of residence of Henryk. This time she had him and she wasn’t going to lose him again.
A superlative opportunity to establish their first contact appeared to her. As it so happened, Mrs. Stefania, the owner of the house where Henryk lived, liked to engage in spiritualist meetings. It was hard to believe in such an auspicious coincidence. Looking at Henryk from up close, she felt the same craving as ever. She still loved him and needed him. He must eventually belong to her. Otherwise, her whole coming back here would not make any sense. She liked nothing in today's Warsaw, not those so-called amazing carriages without horses, large and small or those gray, uniformly dressed human figures. Just by their appearance, it was impossible to know what social class they belonged to (or maybe there really were no longer any social classes - unimaginable horror!).
And finally, the old palaces - some of them she was still able to recognize - had been converted to state offices or museums. Henryk himself also looked gray and sad. All the more reason for her to take him away. They would come back together to the world, which they belonged to, the world of wealth and exquisite dresses. This time, she wouldn’t make the previous error and she would keep him with her forever.
For now, however, she could only see him, but not touch. She had not yet acquired the amount of force sufficient to materialize. The little guinea pig was too small to give her a boost of energy. Many of them would be needed for her to implement her plans. But she could come to him in a dream. Yes, it could be done. She could especially visit him when he was in the strange state between sleep and wakefulness, when he was not awake and his human mind did not know on which realm of consciousness he actually existed. That time was the best. Later, when her personality, which was irrational yet, acquired the necessary level of energy, she would be able to come in contact with him materially, then she would snatch him in her possession and take him to the world from which they both came and remain with him there forever.
***
They sat at a table in the Telimena cafe, near the Nowy Swiat street.
Danka noted with amusement that Kulczycki put his business workbook on the table, opened on the pages filled with his blue scribble.
"He is pretending this is a business meeting," she thought. "Such an old fox he is. I wonder if he is afraid of his wife, or of malicious gossip from the workplace."
On the open pages of the notebook lay the expensive pen "Mont Blanc", and Kulczycki himself was fitted in a modern light gray suit from the Polish Fashion Centre.
Kulczycki was not able to control his nervous excitement. Looking at Danka, he blinked and cleared his throat nervously. He suggested the second glass of brandy even before they finished with the f
irst. It was an obvious sign that he needed the "courage". At the beginning, they discussed topics related to work, then of course, the weather and how this romantic gold, Polish autumn affected the emotional heart of Kulczycki and finally, after the second glass of cognac, how lonely he felt in his light gray suit, misunderstood by his wife and immediate surroundings and that only she, Danka, was able to understand his sorrows. If only Danka would go with him to Miedzylesie, where his friend had a dacha house on the banks of the stream, where, from the hill you can sink into the depths of the autumn landscape, then he, Kulczycki would make sure there was enough Russian champagne and crackers with the black and red caviar.
Mrs. Danka did not say yes, but she also didn’t say no, which strongly encouraged Kulczycki. His eyes became somehow shiny and a fresh blush appeared on the cheeks. These blushes interested Danka disturbingly. She imagined the countless capillaries under the skin of his cheeks, filled with red, life-giving fluid, swollen and throbbing. She had to exert all her strength not to gaze into these delicious blushes as it could be misunderstood. Kulczycki, feeling as if the fish was almost taking the bait, mentioned by the way that it was likely that the next wage increases would be distributed, especially to those employees who were able to work as a team, and the ability to communicate well with superiors was a special advantage of course.
Danka nodded with understanding and without elaborating too much her point of view; she allowed her knees to brush casually with Kulczycki’s under the table. A desperate spasm shook the body of poor Kulczycki then and he distressfully blurted out that in the Directorate, one post was going to be open in the very near future and probably he would be burdened with the mission to establish a list of candidates for the post. Of course, there were no guarantees. Nothing was known for sure, but his opinion would count in the Directorate, of course, so...
It was probably the heaviest bullet he had to launch today. Poor Kulczycki.
Candlelight Stories Page 38