He had gotten the call from a very excited eleven year old, and had gone from having a very boring day filled with empty anticipation, to a practical bolt of lightning that energized him to his core. He had remembered to grab his keys, at least, before he had moved out of his house at a rapid pace, and began navigating the streets, in search of one particular street above all others. Zaneta had sounded thrilled, and Marcel couldn’t help but agree.
Jan was home. It didn’t exactly feel real, but all the same, he was going to make sure it was or wasn’t, with his own eyes. As he walked down the path that led across the Mendyk families yard, he steeled himself with the expectation to be disappointed. For Sebastian to open the door again, and tell him that his energetic younger sibling had seen a resembling stranger, or worse, had decided her babysitter was in need of a heart attack today. Zaneta got overexcited sometimes, even if she sounded oddly detailed-her brother was in her living room, she’d excitedly explained over the phone. Marcel had to come quick!
And so Marcel had. He settled in front of the door, and knocked, a bit softly, but still enough to be heard by anyone inside. The house wasn’t that big, even counting both stories. He stood up straight, and practiced his smile back and forth to himself, trying to make sure he didn’t look weird, even if all of this turned out to be a prank by the eleven year old.
And then the door opened.
Jan looked a lot different. Six years would do that to someone, but even still. He was taller, he was better built-the frail looking boy who nearly got shoved down the stairs every day was gone. He had a thin scar over his lip that looked like it hadn’t healed all that well. He looked like he’d recently shaved, and his hair looked like it had been cut back short fairly recently, barely any length was left to it. His expression was rapidly shifting, from surprise, to recognition, to guilt, to something that faintly resembled joy. Marcel gave his own best smile, and lurched forward, giving the soldier a hug.
Jan made a noise of some kind, somewhere between a grunt and a swallowed hello. Marcel didn’t give contact for long, pulling back and smiling.
“A very excited eleven year old called me-“
Marcel heard a squeal from behind Jan, close to the stairwell. Jan took a step back, and allowed Marcel to step inside the house. Marcel being sure to shut the door behind them, to allow for the cold to be sealed away from them.
The two looked at each other for a moment in the doorway. Marcel saw Zaneta lingering in the stairwell, but bounding down a second later, looking as excited as she was on her birthday, and Sebastian stood in the living room just behind. He cast an imposing figure, but even he seemed happy to have his brother home.
The family was reunited. And Marcel was there too. The veneer of awkwardness only lasted a second, before he looked between the family again, and settled on Jan.
“…How long have you been home?” He asked, with some excitement.
“I just got back today. I got discharged thanks to…” Jan paused. “Bureaucrats, mostly. The division I was serving in out east got disbanded, and they decided it was better to be rid of me.” He seemed to shrug. Marcel got the impression it wasn’t the full story, but then again, the full story might just be boring. Jan seemed to also be rather tired, so that likely wasn’t helping. He’d talk with him about it again later.
For now, Marcel nodded and smiled.
“Lucky for us, then. Hopefully it’s all good, on both ends of things.” Marcel wasn’t worried about the Soviet military getting the short end, by any means.
“I could get called back if we ever go into a proper war out west. But if that happens, we’ll have bigger problems.” Jan said this with more nonchalant energy then it was warranted to have.
A small silence over the room, at that statement, one which Marcel was quick to try and break.
“…Then it sounds we’ll have you back for awhile!” He said, putting his enthusiasm first.
“…Yes.” Jan said, momentarily shifting his eyes away from Marcel, somewhat awkwardly. He supposed it was just nervousness. The reunion had likely been unexpected, for him. At least, that was his guess on this.
Marcel looked to Sebastian.
“…I suppose you won’t need me to watch Zaneta anymore, if Jan is home?”
The taller man shook his head. He did look a bit surprised, the thought hadn’t occurred to him.
“…I guess not.” He admitted, shrugging his shoulders widely. “You’ve been a big help, though.”
Zaneta scrambled down from her perch atop the stairs, standing between Marcel and Jan, with big pleading eyes that flicked between them at the speed of a racehorse.
“…Can Marcel come over here still? He’s been showing me how to beat Sebastian at chess-”
Sebastian sighed, though it was mostly in good fun.
“-And we still have to rebuild our snow sculptures from last year!” She continued without paying attention to any objections from her brother.
Jan looked a bit confused, looking over his shoulder at Sebastian.
“Has he-?” A point to Marcel.
“He’s been keeping an eye on Zaneta in the afternoons. Makes my work schedule easier, and gives her something to do that isn’t setting fire to the neighbors shed-”
“That was one time and it was an accident!” Zaneta said, protesting.
“…Right.” Sebastian said, with a pointed look to Jan, who nodded, though somewhat warily. Why was he so worried, Marcel wondered?
“Well, thanks for taking care of her.” Jan said with a nod.
Marcel almost said something a little mean.
“…Oh, it was no problem! Zan is a sweetheart.”
Zaneta nodded fervently. Obviously, this was a true statement, to be heeded in all respects.
“-Besides, I don’t have much better to do. My dear ole dad uses his home here as a vacation house these days. He’s working for the Worker’s party in Warsaw, barely ever comes home. He sends home a bit of money, but otherwise, I’ve been alone here mostly since leaving school.” Marcel felt a little bad admitting that, especially amongst the Mendyk siblings. Sebastian was getting by well enough, but Jan needing to go into the military at all was indicative enough. But still, it was the truth.
Politicians got paid. One way or another. Marcel was an only child, and his mother had died when he was ten. So, it was just the two of them. And his father was…not good with family.
“That so?” Jan said, with a bit of a nod. Marcel couldn’t tell if it was actual approval, or an idle motion. Sebastian, at this point, ducked into the other room, rummaging around for something. Zaneta had backed up, and plopped down on the stairs, just listening. “He get promoted, or something?”
“Yeah. Apparently he was good at what he did. Or so he told me.” Marcel shrugged. “Anytime I ask about how work is going, he either gets clammy, or explains wayyy too much for my liking. So, I just let that be a little mystery. I like to pretend he’s a glorified secretary.”
Jan snorted.
“Yeah. Alright. May as well, really. Do you plan to…”
Jan paused, one of many he’d inflicted upon this conversation. Marcel tilted his head ever slightly, curious.
“…Leave?”
For some reason, the question caught Marcel off guard. Answers swam behind his eyes for a good few moments, before he eventually managed to give a little bit of a shrug.
“I’ve thought about it. But…”
How to answer this. Marcel realized that he wasn’t the only one with something to hide. Or at least, something to not discuss in full right now. He hadn’t even thought about Jan being let in on things. He’d ask him later, if he could get the soldier alone.
“…I know people here. It’s home. I’m a little afraid to throw that away, if I’m being honest. It’s a scary world out there.” Marcel laughed, and he thought it sounded pretty natural, for something that wasn’t all that funny. Zaneta joined in, which covered up any hints of it being forced. Jan, like he had to many other things Marcel said, nodded.
“It is.” He said, with a matter of fact tone of voice. “I don’t blame you. Especially if you’re all set here.”
“I’d like to think I am.”
They both looked at each other for a few moments. Marcel was truly hoping that the lies he had just told passed. Or, he supposed they were closer to half truths then anything else.
Jan looked away. Breaking eye contact before Marcel could falter in his confidence.
Now, it was Zaneta’s turn to duck out. It seemed like she’d gotten bored, in that eleven year old way, and had better things to do, as a kid who had just gotten done with school. A naive part of him hoped it was homework.
“…So.” Jan started, again.
“So.” Marcel said, killing the soldier’s momentum.
Another pause.
“Town’s changed. Clock tower’s broken. I barely recognized some streets, with how much they’d moved things…there’s a hostel, now?” He questioned, as if that in particular bugged him.
“Yes, and yes. It’s been a long six years…ups and downs, you know how it is.”
There was an implicit understanding between them of what ups and downs meant. Or what Jan thought ups and downs meant, between the two of them. Marcel knew a bit more, but chose not to speak, and Jan had too much experience, Marcel would think, to try and actually broach the subject of the people who would vanish in the dead of night. The pictures on the mantle, and the remnants throughout the house were enough for that.
A few awkward movements of foot, and similar gestures as the two had this strange dance of words.
“…Would you mind showing me around a bit, then? I wouldn’t like to get lost in my own hometown. And I feel like most people won’t recognize me, if I asked. Though I did run into Julia earlier.” He noted, with a bit of a shrug. “I’d also just like to talk about what happened to the people we knew, on that note. And…a lot of stuff, in general. If you have the time for it, of course. It doesn’t have to be now.”
Marcel gave him the biggest smile he’d given him since stepping in the front door. That had been what he had wanted Jan to ask, deep down.
“I’ve got all day. You alright to go for a walk?” Marcel said, pointing a finger towards the door, and half turning that way.
Jan smiled back. And it seemed genuine, to boot. He realized that it might have been the first time in six years that he had seen that sight.
“Yeah. Just…give me one second.”
He ducked out of the room, following the direction Sebastian had gone. Marcel meanwhile, stepped outside to wait for him, not wanting to eavesdrop, even if it wasn’t anything particularly private. It just seemed like good manners, frankly.
As he stood there, he looked around the empty and quiet street. The neighbors, even if Zaneta had set their shed on fire once, tended to be the sort to stay inside during particularly cold winter days. It was a nice kind of quiet, the kind you would normally only expect to find at night…but the nights around here were far from quiet. He furrowed his brow slightly as he thought about his schedule for the next little while…he had obligations tonight, but for now, he should be more then free to show Jan around the town. Thus, when the soldier stepped outside once again, the two were off.
———————————————————————————–
“-The clock tower stopped working two years ago. Apparently, a few idiots broke in one night and messed something up, and it would be way too expensive of a fix. There was a communal donation pool for it, but it never really got anywhere.” Marcel explained, as he and Jan walked in the shadow of the giant timepiece which loomed far above them.
Jan’s eyes also went up to the giant structure, half baked awe and a bit of disappointment mixed into his face. Marcel supposed he couldn’t blame him-the thing was something of a local fixture. Or it had been, until it had broken three years ago. Marcel knew the folks who had broken it…and they weren’t good sorts. He was pretty sure they were all still in town, and being someone else’s problem. He realized he should talk to his friends about them, no one had checked in on them in a little while now. He hated those guys.
A bit of a sigh, as he made a broad gesture towards the tower.
“But hey. It’s still right twice a day, I guess.”
Marcel shrugged.
“…I guess so. Still not great.” Jan said, with a sigh.
“Maybe we could get the donation effort moving again. I could probably talk to my dad about it, if it’d be something you think is important-I’d hate for it to ruin your homecoming, or anything.” Marcel said, looking to meet Jan’s eyes. The soldier continued to avoid eye contact. It was weird. Did he know?
That bolt of anxiety that passed through Marcel was quenched.
“It’s just a clock. There are bigger changes around. Did the old church get knocked down?” Jan said curiously, as they strode across the square. The streets were empty, so crossing the road was easy. No risk of getting hit. Today had been clear of snow, the previous nights storm had passed by the time the sun graced the horizon. Maybe it was a sign. The thought amused Marcel, before he realized he’d been asked a question that he should probably answer.
“Oh, yeah. That was two years ago. Turns out the foundations weren’t so good anymore. It would have been way more trouble to renovate, so they tore it down and built a new one, it’s just a little ways away. We can head that way if you want.”
Marcel actually knew the people who had knocked down the church. Renovations his ass. But he supposed that was the nice and comfortable answer, so he’d go with it.
“…Sure, why not. Probably won’t be going very often, but I’d still like to see it.” Jan said, stepping up onto the opposite curb, Marcel only a small stride behind him.
“Oh? Did the soldier lose god out there?” Marcel said, mostly teasing, and very obviously joking. He didn’t really care.
“…Something like that.” Jan said, dead serious as he stopped walking, making a gesture forward, for Marcel to lead on. He did, starting to lead towards the plot where they had built the new church. It had once been abandoned, and it had been thoroughly marked before being constructed this time. It had been a terse bit of discussion in the circles, on how best to go about it. It would be more annoying not to have it.
Still, that answer of Jan’s did bug him slightly. Did he not catch the joke, or was he trying to start a conversation. Marcel decided to leave the door open for it.
“You are ok, yeah? I’d understand if you didn’t want to talk about it in front of Zan, but if you want to talk about stuff that happened I-“
Jan cut him off. When Marcel turned, he saw that his hand was raised.
“It’s-no. It’s nothing you want to hear about, and it’s not even…really that interesting. Just a lot of meaningless violence. Not particularly godly, I’d say.” He said that almost with disdain in his voice, though Marcel found it hard to exactly place.
“…Alright. That’s…fair enough, I guess. But if you ever want to talk…”
Jan just gave a very short, very stiff nod. Marcel knew, from that, that he would probably never want to talk. It made him sad. He…
Well, he didn’t know what he had expected, really. He knew that Jan would be different, not only after six years, but after a tour in the army. He had expected Jan to be gone even longer, and be even more different, honestly. But the twenty year old adult men that walked down the street, across the sleepy streets of Ostoja were much different then the fourteen year olds who had last crossed paths at a school party.
It did make him sad. But there was some hope to be found, he presumed. Bonds could always be rebuilt. He just needed to find his way there, in one way or another. And he was confident that he could.
One way or another.
The conversation sort of died out between them, as Jan and Marcel walked forward through the snow which had only fallen recently. And in silence, they walked through empty streets. It was reaching late afternoon. It wouldn’t be long before the sun set. And Marcel had to give at the very least, the illusion of following the curfew that had been put in place. So this would likely, he realized, be there last stop for the day. He resolved to try one more time to break Jan’s shell, before the day was over.
And soon, the two stepped into the shadow of the new church. It was built fairly close to the center of town, not quite a mile from the clock tower they had just stood in front of. It’s body loomed upwards, and it’s newly constructed form almost shone with the lack of disrepair. And yet…
Marcel knew what dwelt within this place, and it was far from holy. Jan and him both stopped in front of it. The soldier squinted up at it’s body in silence, the empty building’s vastness being nothing but foreboding. Though maybe that was just Marcel’s opinion.
“It’s nice”
Jan said simply, stopping his squint dead. He turned over to Marcel, giving a somewhat thin smile. An almost forced smile. It was an odd thing. Marcel smiled back, with full genuine force.
“…Yeah! Thankfully, we were able to get outside funding for it…more important then the clock tower I suppose-” The lie flowed off his tongue with ease. “So it’s pretty nice for a town like ours. You should check it out-when it’s open.” He said, not trying to imply anything. Not that he thought Jan was the type to break and enter. At least, he hadn’t been six years ago.
Jan simply nodded, agreeing.
Silence hung.
Marcel broke it this time.
“…I know it’s been a long time, but I’d like to see you like I used to. I know we probably aren’t interested in the same things anymore, but, I do get together with some of the people from school still, so if you wanted to c-“
Jan held up a hand, stopping him. The church no longer had the soldier’s attention, and instead both of his eyes were now firmly placed onto Marcel.
He was glaring.
“What’s your game, Marcel.”
He said, abruptly, before Marcel could get a single word in edgewise. He took a step forward. Marcel didn’t budge. Frozen like a deer in headlights.
Marcel didn’t speak.
“Do you expect me to think you’re just playing dumb? Pretending like nothing happened? Like you’ve just-”
Marcel stopped listening to Jan. An internal roar of panic built within him as he considered possibilities. What was this about? He wracked his brain. Had he done anything to Jan, before leaving? Had Jan done anything to him? He didn’t think so, nothing worthy of this.
Which meant Jan might know.
Which would be very, very bad. Really bad.
“-I don’t know what you want, but I’m not going to just play along with it. Pretending to be my friend, after what you did? What you’ve probably done? What did you tell Zaneta-what did you tell Sebastian!?”
Jan took another few step forwards, getting in Marcel’s face, and grabbing the much smaller individual by the scruff. Jan was strong. Marcel didn’t have time to reach anything, to say anything, before the very angry looking soldier was in his face.
Panic built even further. Marcel squirmed against his grip, to little success.
“I-I don’t know what you’re talking ab-about! I’ve just been watching her while your brother works, I haven’t told him anything, they aren’t involved i-” The panic in his voice was genuine, the anxiety real, as he rattled off his somewhat frightened sounding words. His mind was searching for answers besides the giant, terrible, and world shattering conclusion.
“I don’t believe you! You want to ruin my life, that’s why you ran off, isn’t it-it’s why you vanished that night!” Jan was angry, but his words struck something in Marcel.
That night?
That night?
That night!
Somehow, relief passed over him as quickly as the panic had come.
“…I’m sorry.”
Marcel said, going slack in Jan’s grip.
“You’re right. I shouldn’t have abandoned you that night. I wandered off, it was stupid, and I really should have stuck with you, Julia and the rest. It should have been a fun last meeting, but instead I fucked it u-“
Marcel wasn’t expecting Jan to hit him. He also wasn’t expecting the soldier’s grip to loosen, all at once. Marcel crumbled to the ground, his face throbbing, his entire body stinging as he fell into the snow. He still could see Jan’s long shadow cast over him, the glare almost punching a hole straight through him.
“…You’re a fucking liar. But if that’s what you told everyone, fine. We don’t have to talk about it. Don’t come to my house again. Don’t come near me unless you’re willing to tell the truth, Marcel. We’re both adults now. We can talk things out. Or so I thought.”
There was a moment there, with Jan standing over him. Marcel could have pushed himself up, said something, continued the conversation. He could have done terrible things to Marcel, as revenge, then and there.
But instead, he loosened his body, sinking into the snow in defeat. And Jan’s shadow vanished form over him. The soldier’s footsteps slowly, but surely moving away down the street, as the setting sun began to shine orange light over the small, small town.
When he couldn’t hear Jan’s footsteps over the quiet streets anymore, Marcel pulled himself back up, slowly. His face didn’t hurt anymore. He was a bit tougher then he looked, and he’d gotten beaten up a lot in the past. That had gotten him to toughen up, in turn.
He looked up at the setting sun, and brushed himself off of the lingering snow. He let out a long, long sigh to the empty air. Giving one final glance to the looming church, he thought about it for a moment.
Jan confused him. Had he thought that Marcel had abandoned him on purpose, at the school party? He supposed six years of spite went a long way, somehow. But…
Something about it bugged him, but he didn’t care to think about it. He realized, upon seeing the sun, and doing some mental math, that he didn’t have that much time. At a much faster pace then Jan had gone, Marcel took off, homeward bound.
If he got through the night, he’d do his best to make things right with Jan. Assuming the soldier didn’t feel like punching him again.
And if Marcel was still alive to do that.
Kindling And Miscellany 