"Even the fiercest virgin would have agreed a long time ago," he thought and the more favorable look Danka sent him seemed to be, the more hope jostled his slightly tight suit, especially his pants, with desire.
"She is looking at me," he thought, seeing the piercing glance thrown him from time to time along with the smile of the Sphinx, the enigmatic - maybe yes, maybe no. Hell, think of it whatever you want. Finally, after the third glass of brandy, it happened. She agreed that they both watch the sunset in Miedzylesie together, but not until next week, when she would be able to find a free evening. It filled him with all the happiness. At the same time, he begged for her far-reaching discretion. Nobody, and he meant nobody, was to learn about their meeting.
"You know how some people are. Their minds are filled with God knows what. Everywhere, they poke their noses and make sensations".
In this respect, they agreed with each other perfectly.
After returning home, Danka fed her husband. She did not eat at all. She was not hungry for this usual, silly food. Before going to sleep, she pulled Mancia out of the cage. Only then did she feel true hunger.
She wondered how many Guinea pigs they still had in the shop. Or, maybe, with luck, the next one would no longer be needed. Before her eyes appeared the ruddy, pulsating cheeks of Kulczycki. His neck was not visible, obscured by the high collar of his freshly pressed shirt held stiff by his rayon tie.
She recalled the perverse game she had played with this sucker. Oh, if he only knew how much she cared for this meeting. After all, he was for her more valuable than all the Mancias of the world.
She picked up the animal from her knees and looked fondly at its pink eyes, and then she slowly pressed it towards her dangerously beautiful face.
***
The Countess Z leaned over the open notebook.
"Beginning of the book," she read surprised. The brat girl was right. Who the hell would start a book this way? Poor Henryk probably did not really know what to write. He was probably tempted to write a book, but what could you write while living in this gray, classless city as today’s Warsaw was? They even had no king here anymore. They did not have the royal court or the service maids. Even the horses they did not have, just like some prehistoric tribe. They multiplied the population without shame. You know, when there is little to do in the long winter evenings, only one form of entertainment was reliable for sure - here, she looked at the figure of Henryk sleeping soundly.
"I’ll show you in a moment how we used to love," she thought tenderly.
"These days, the lovers cannot do it like before. But for now - I'll make you a present; I'll start for you this book. It will be our life story. Actually, we can use the beginning, which was invented by this stupid student-girl who dared to enter the room of Henryk in such an incomplete dress. It fits very well with the whole affair.”
She picked up the only material object which she could touch in this crazy world - a fountain pen connected to her from the very first time with a magical thread - and started writing the first chapter. Love could wait, and every day it would be like this: one chapter at a time, then the love, when Henryk was unconscious with happiness, until the day came when she gained enough energy to return with him over there, where people still lived a normal life.
***
Kulczycki was not lying. The wooden house was situated very picturesquely, not exactly in Miedzylesie, but further than this friendly village, between the trees. From its porch, the view of forests with their golden leaves was really captivating. On the table in front of them stood a well cooled bottle of Russian champagne, and on the plate, as promised, were crackers with cheese and caviar, also from Russia. The second bottle of champagne waited, stored in the refrigerator. Those goods surely came from the deli storeroom.
"Interesting. Did he pay for them?" wondered Danka.
After drinking half of the bottle, Kulczycki began to present more and more apparent excitement, emphasized particularly in some parts of his wardrobe.
He himself, as a man, excited Danka no more than bald hare, but as a living man, he attracted her very much. She would not be able to resist him this evening.
In the light of the setting sun, the blush on his cheeks took on a red-orange color and without a rigid neck collar and tie; his neck was more seductive than the neck of a swan. For a long time, Danka had waited for this evening. She had especially delayed this meeting by a few days, so the cravings of Kulczycki had reached their zenith.
Now, she only had to drag the plot until nightfall. After that, she knew what to do.
***
The Countess Z was lucky again. When Danka returned late in the evening to Warsaw, alone, but filled with some new, magical power, which was unknown to her so far, Countess Z felt genuine gratitude to this woman. So much after all she owed her. Maybe she should take her to the other world? After a moment's hesitation, however, she rejected this idea. Danka had her world here, a world which she loved, with its ever dug up sidewalks, crowded trams and buses, and shops in which you could never find exactly what you needed. No, Danka belonged here, and since she had become the manager of the store, she should be allowed to enjoy her life with her mathematical husband and another guinea pig. About what had happened, as soon as tomorrow, she would not be able to remember.
When Danka went to sleep, Countess Z moved immediately to the house where Henryk lived. He was already asleep. She smiled happily. Now, when she finally had everything she needed to re-materialize, Henry would belong to her forever. But this could wait a moment. Now, it was time to write the last chapter of their earthly adventure. He could always read it from the other side of consciousness. Maybe that would be better?
She lifted the black fountain pen with the gold nib and began to fill with her even, neat handwriting the last page of the notebook.
***
Lieutenant Balski bent over the body lying on the bed.
“How long has he been here?” he asked the doctor.
“Probably been dead two days.”
"Damn. It's more or less at the same time as the first one in Warsaw," he thought out loud.
The body was stiff and white as a chalk. It did not show any signs of violence with the exception of two black dots on the neck. Precisely because of the similarity between the two cases, Lieutenant Balski was directed also to Międzylesie.
"A specialist in matters undetectable," his colleagues joked behind his back.
“Just remember, Balski,” his superior admonished. “In the People's Republic of Poland, vampires do not exist. You have to find some other intelligent explanation of the matter. You have to grab the perpetrator by the balls and jail him, understand? The People’s Republic of Poland gave you the education. Now, use it to deal with this case.”
“Well, what do I write, boss?” asked the young corporal sitting at the table over an unfinished police report. “Cause of death unknown, as in previous case?”
Lieutenant Balski nodded, but suddenly a smirk brightened his militia face.
“Do not. Write: Sucked off by a capitalist vampire.”
The young corporal stared at him.
“And how do you know it is a capitalist? I mean this vampire?”
“Because in the People's Republic of Poland, there are no vampires. Remember it forever. Our major told me this personally.”
"Damn, he’ll be mad after he reads this report," Balski thought with amusement. "I’d like to see his face. Definitely, he will not assign me to a case like this anymore."
***
Danka got up in the morning with a slight headache. She swallowed the aspirin and sipped her glass of hot milk, and then she prepared the breakfast for herself and Jakub, and fed Mancia properly. She did not even have any idea that it was not her first guinea pig. While parting, Countess Z gave her the wonderful gift of forgetfulness. After arriving at work, she found stunning news about the death of Kulczycki.
"Ah, he
was such a nice guy," she thought when she remembered how he fell on his back on the wet floor of the store. Too bad for a poor man. It was hard to believe it.
She performed very well the store manager's duties and within a year, she was transferred to the Directorate. She still aroused the interest of men. The education of Countess Z remained with her forever, but her interest in their naked necks no longer prevailed.
***
Teresa closed the notebook and looked thoughtfully out the window.
"So, it was so with him... Life, indeed, was more unlikely than the most fantastic fairy tale."
She picked up the fountain pen of Henryk to look at it. At the same time, she felt surprised as something like an electrical discharge went from the pen to her hand. She examined it carefully.
"So this was the pen Henryk used to write this strange book," she thought. And she had never suspected him of possessing literary talent.
"Poor thingy. I wonder where he might be now."
Suddenly, she felt she did not want to be alone today.
She grabbed her purse and went quickly into the street. There, she got on the bus and went to the city center. She entered the first coffee bar she passed by, where at the counter, she ordered a small cup of black coffee and a glass of cognac.
“Are you alone?” she heard the man sitting on the adjacent stool say. “On such a beautiful evening?”
She looked at him. He was tall, handsome, well built. He could be around the age of Henryk. But more than anything, his neck, strong, tanned, and well visible from the stretched collar of his polo shirt, intrigued her.
Under his light brown skin stood out distinctly darker streaks of veins.
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Candlelight Stories Page 39