Wartime lies - Louis Begley [43]
There was approval of this new step in my education all around the table. Only Pan Władek mumbled something about how priests made hypocrites and pharisees and how that was not what he had intended when he undertook to draw me into a frank conversation. When we got up from the table, he surprised and frightened me again: Would Pani mind, he asked Tania, if Janek talked to me for a few minutes, alone?
I had never been in Pan Władek’s room before. It was furnished like ours, except for a large armchair in which Pan Władek sat down after lighting his acetylene lamp. He asked me to sit in the straight chair at the table and told me he was very sorry about what had happened; this time I must forgive him. Sometimes watching my mother and me struggle so hard became unbearable; he wanted me to be, if only for a moment, like other boys. Anyway, we were doing too much. Nobody needed to be so perfect. I was to go to my room now and tell my mother not to worry. He was our friend.
Tania was furious. She said he could only mean that he had guessed the truth, and if that was the case, his conduct was inexcusable. He was drawing attention to me, he had put us in a position about the first Communion she had wanted to avoid. She hoped, but wasn’t sure, that this was not his way of confirming his suspicions before he blackmailed or denounced us. She would talk to grandfather about it.
My grandfather listened carefully. We were in the mleczarnia eating cheese naleśniki. He thought that this Władek of ours would not have waited so long if he had bad intentions, but that he might be indiscreet. Probably I should avoid conversations with him. If he was a good man, he would understand and would not hold it against us. Helping a Jew to hide was an action that Poles were shot for; Pan Władek ought to prefer not knowing about us and above all ought to prefer not letting anyone else think that he knew. It was lucky the Russians would be with us soon. Kiev was not so far away; before long, the Wehrmacht would begin to crumble. We were all too tired to keep up the pretense if they made us wait. Just this morning a man had stopped him in the street and asked to see his papers: the usual face, the usual clothes, the usual voice. If Pan doesn’t want trouble, perhaps we can settle it right away, conveniently, at this gate—they went into the gateway of a building on Miodowa, near the theater. The man looked at the papers and said, If Pan lets down his trousers here, it will save us the trouble of going to the police station, Pan knows that once we are there that’s the end for him. Grandfather was ready. While the man was busy with the papers, he had opened his jackknife inside his coat pocket. Now he took it out and said, Here is my penis if you want to check it, and take yours out, so I can cut it off. They parted, grandfather said, on the best of terms, but he wasn’t sure he had the strength to deal with more of these robbers.
WE WENT to see Father P. without the widow. Tania worried about having her at the interview; she thought it would make us both more nervous. The priest studied my birth certificate, returned it to Tania, and said that unquestionably it was time to begin my religious instruction. He regretted that my health did not allow me to attend school; so far, the authorities had not prevented pastoral work in the classroom, and Pani could well understand that the nation’s spiritual capital could not be preserved without letting children come to the Lord as early as possible. The class would start next Monday; it would meet in the afternoon. He wished me success.