Absolute Sunset by Kata Mlek Read Free Book Online Page A

cigarette. “And now: wash my back.”
    Then one day Sabina was hanging curtains in bedroom. Hanka hadn’t a clue what had inspired her mother to do this. She’d never been very fond of cleaning. But the bigger her belly got, the more firmly Sabina scrubbed the floors, and the more often she vacuumed the flat. She emptied cupboards and drawers. She washed and ironed. Hanka was astounded. She finally had a normal mother, devoting entire days to scouring out the flat and complaining about muddy shoes. Sometimes the girl made some mess intentionally just to listen to Sabina’s grumbles.
    It was Friday, right before the first of May. The parachute-like seeds of dandelions floated in the air. Sabina decided to clean windows. It was about time—throughout
Tysiąclecie
everyone else had already taken care of it. Sabina sent Janusz to work and told Hanka to stay home.
    “It won’t be a problem if you miss one day at school. They just talk loads of bullshit there anyway. Stay at home, you’ll help me carry water,” she decided. The girl was glad. But surprised.
    After breakfast, Hanka filled the bucket with water, poured half a dose of dishwashing liquid into it, and lugged it to the bedroom. She put the heavy bucket down with effort. A few drops fell onto the parquet. Hanka wiped them off with her sock.
    Sabina was standing on the chair. Her huge belly touched the windowpane—it seemed as though her belly button was kissing it.
    “Finally,” she growled and pointed at the windowsill. “Put it here, not on the floor. And go away, you’re disturbing me.”
    Hanka put the bucket where she was told, then went to lie down on her bed. She closed her eyes. She could hear dribbling water, the sounds of rags being wrung, the rustle of newspapers—which Sabina used to polish panes—and the chirping sound of clean glass. The sounds of the housing estate came through the open windows. Barking, trumpeting, the bumping of a basement door that hadn’t been shut properly. Calming thumping. Hanka dozed off.
    “Bring the net curtains,” she heard, and immediately opened her eyes. Sabina had finished polishing. She looked like a proper housewife, with sweaty hair clinging to her forehead and a sponge in her hand. It was a welcome sight for Hanka.
    “I’m coming!” she called, and raced off to the bathroom.
    Sabina had taken down the net curtains earlier, bundling them into the washing machine and setting it to the highest temperature. Some foam appeared above the flap. With an effort, Hanka took the laundry out of the washing machine and pulled it into the bedroom. She wasn’t able to actually lift the soaked curtains and they left a wet mark on the floor behind her.
A seal’s tail of net curtain
, she thought. Funny.
    Sabina, by contrast, had no trouble with the curtains. She hoist them onto her shoulder and reached for the curtain rod. Hanka lay down again. She had closed her eyes for a moment so she could fully enjoy the powdery smell of the laundry, when she heard a groan.
    “No!” Sabina whispered, and Hanka sat up straight.
    “Mom?” she asked, frightened. “Mom?”
    “It’s coming!” Sabina said quietly. “The baby is coming!” She was breathless. All at once she bent in two, like a pocketknife, and fell off the chair onto a bureau covered with piles of paper and creased clothes. She slipped onto the floor and froze against the wall. Her labored breathing was the only sign that she was alive.
    Hanka rushed to her mother.
    “Mom, Mom!” she cried out, as if repeating it could turn back the clock and put Sabina safely back on her chair. As if it could cancel the thump she made when she fell. “Mum, open your eyes!” Hanka said over and over.
    Then she noticed that Sabina’s belly has become flabby. Warm water appeared under her mother’s body. It smelled like a stream. Hanka knew what it meant.
    “The baby!” she screamed, jumping to her feet.
    She began to run from the bed to Sabina and back. She switched