Killing Auntie (10 page)

13

A
UNTIE RETURNED FROM THE SANATORIUM ALL WARM AND
tan. She wrapped herself around my neck and kissed me on both cheeks. I felt a little awkward with her. I was at a loss how to explain the presence of her corpse in the bathtub, and then I was a little thrown by her new shawl and beret, the new buttons on her familiar coat. A long absence always creates that sort of distance. But Auntie was practical and good-natured, as usual.

“I haven't seen you for so long,” she was speaking quickly, “how have you been getting on, my boy? I bet the flat is a dump, God have mercy on me. Why haven't you written? I was beginning to get worried, believe it or not. Have you been attending your lectures? I presume the place is just as I left it.”

Weighed down by Auntie's bag I walked beside her, smiling. I didn't even try to answer any of her questions, knowing she wouldn't give me time to form a sentence. Auntie took me under my arm and chattered away.

“Shall we take a taxi? But I see they're all taken. We'll take a droshky, or let's go on foot. Such wonderful sunshine. Let's run.”

Holding me fast by my arm she broke into a trot. She was running down the pavement, sweeping the passersby out of her way. Auntie's heavy bag dragged me down, knocking about my knees. I was beginning to run out of breath. I watched Auntie's face, hoping it would soon be covered in sweat, and she would run out of breath too. Nothing of the sort. Auntie was trotting along, splashing mud with her boots. Apparently the sanatorium did her a lot of good. Before I knew it I was hanging off her arm, shuffling my feet just fast enough to keep my balance.

“How about some coffee?” Auntie screamed into my ear.

We were just approaching a coffee shop. I couldn't answer. I could hardly breathe and my eyes were watering. We burst into the coffee shop like a hurricane. Auntie ordered two coffees and two cakes. Munching forlornly on the cake, I listened to the outpouring of words from my auntie. There was no way I could get a word in edgewise or explain anything. At least I was pleased I didn't have to run with a heavy bag down a muddy street.

We covered the distance from the coffee shop to home at a more reasonable pace. Once inside, without taking her coat off, Auntie went into the bedroom and sat down heavily on the bed. Climbing up the stairs had taken some air out of her at last. Inside the four walls of our flat, I began to see the old signs of tiredness and age in her features once again. The moment of rest didn't last long, though. She got up, took off her coat and boots and began pottering about the flat. I didn't help her with her coat. At that point, my smallest gesture would have been irrelevant and meaningless before the decisive, impending moment. I sprawled on the bed, listening to Auntie clattering around in the kitchen. I was waiting.

At last the door to the bathroom squeaked. I got up. I couldn't resist participating in the most dramatic moment of the whole adventure. Auntie stood over the bath, shaking her head.

“Boy, boy, boy,” she said with reproach, “why did you bring all these plants in here? And how could you clutter the whole bathtub like this? I bet you didn't take a single bath while I was away, did you, you dirty boy. Help me move these plants.”

With some reluctance I began to shift the old araucaria while Auntie picked up the two cacti and we took them back to the room. My little altar ceased to exist. The scraps of the corpse littering the bathtub among the ice were cold and devoid of any charisma. Auntie clutched at her head.

“Jerzy,” she cried, “what have you been doing here? Get the brush, let's clean it quickly. Pull up your sleeves, you'll get your shirt dirty.”

I got down to cleaning the bathtub. The torso presented the biggest problem. Though gutted, it was still quite heavy. But Auntie helped me. We carried it onto the kitchen balcony and hung it out on the balustrade.

Just then, on the neighboring balcony, Mrs. Malinowska was beating her carpets. Seeing Auntie, she sent her a radiant smile and the two ladies exchanged pleasantries. I took the last remains outside in a bucket and chucked them into the rubbish bin.

Auntie poured half a packet of cleaning powder into the bathtub and, armed with brushes, we started scrubbing it clean.

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