Wartime lies - Louis Begley [63]
Kula and his family had finished the day’s work when we entered their house, preceded by Komar. They were in a large kitchen, about to eat the evening meal. Tania and I stood in the door while Komar greeted the Kulas, inquired about the progress of the harvest and then talked about us. I looked around the kitchen, trying not to turn my head. The floor was made of very white planks, the table was a long rectangle of dark wood. The walls were whitewashed; near the door opposite us that seemed to lead from the kitchen to the yard hung a black icon, a copy of the Virgin of Czestochowa. A naphtha lamp stood on the table, its wick turned up to throw a large round of yellow light. A candle was burning in a holder nailed to the wall under the icon.
Having listened to Komar’s explanation, Kula got up and looked us over carefully and unsmilingly. Tania apparently understood what was disturbing him and took the initiative. She bowed to him and in the direction of Kulowa and said that they must not worry about our being city people, unable to work hard. She was healthy and strong. I was a well-behaved and obedient boy. If they took us in, and showed us how to do the tasks that were to be done, we would not let them down and God would repay their kindness. She was not asking for wages; just a corner of the kitchen where we might sleep and a place at their table. After a lengthy silence, during which Tadek and Masia also got up to gape at us, Kula nodded agreement. Kulowa motioned for us to sit down on the bench beside her, Masia brought plates and spoons for our soup and boiled potatoes, Kula got a bottle of vodka and filled glasses for himself, Tadek and Komar. The deal was done.
Inspired by Tania’s example, I seized Kulowa’s forearm with both hands and deposited a slow and ceremonious kiss on her elbow. My readings in Sieńkiewicz had taught me that this was an ancient Polish gesture of respect. I could not have aimed better. Kulowa may have been more surprised than moved, but she embraced me and became a shield against Kula’s bad temper. After the third glass of vodka, Komar left. It was time to settle for the night. Kulowa produced a huge burlap sack and sent Masia to the barn to fill it with straw. When that was done, she showed Tania how to sew its end closed so it would become our mattress, and she gave us a feather bed to sleep under. Masia brought her bedding from the only other room in the house, where she told me the parents slept, and put it on the floor near the stove. We would be against the wall, on the other side of the kitchen. During these preparations, Tadek left. I asked Masia where he slept. She giggled. Tadek liked to be near the animals. He slept in the hayloft, above the cows. One other arrangement remained to be made: Kula said he would leave the dog on the chain this first night. When we needed to relieve ourselves, we could go behind the barn.
TO HARVEST the potatoes, one dug around them first with a hoe. When the soil was sufficiently loosened, one could pull them up with one’s hands. The next step was to throw the potatoes into a basket. Then one lugged the basket to the lane between the fields, where the cart would eventually come, and heaped the potatoes on a big pile. When Kula stopped the cart next to the pile, the potatoes were loaded on by hand or with a pitchfork. The piles had to be large enough so that Kula’s time would not be wasted; he didn’t want to make too many stops. Tania and Masia hoed and pulled up the potatoes, and I put them in the basket and staggered with it to the piles. When I fell behind, they would stop their work and help me. Soon Tania’s hands were badly blistered. Masia gave her strips of cloth to tie around them. I tried to use the hoe in Tania’s place, but I was not strong enough