1
Serafin:
Krakow: Poland, 2002
I shake off my sore knuckles and shove my fist in the pocket of my leather jacket as I close the door to the apartment. I whistle to myself, brimming with pride and satisfaction, taking the steps two by two.
Mia Dolata is going to go to Studniowka with me, and she has no reason to tell me no.
She was too proud to let me buy her an evening gown, so I did what any normal man would do in my position. I made sure her boss at the bakery gave her a raise. And the weekend off. Paid in full. It took a little bit of charm and a little bit of muscle, but I loosened my grip on his throat as he called her and told her the great news.
Maybe I’m not such a great guy, but for Mia, I turn into a pile of warm mush. I’ve held her hand through cheesy romantic movies, taken her ice skating, and rescued so many kittens that I have to take three different kinds of allergy medications just to get through the day. I’d rescue a hundred more if it kept her interested in me.
My family says it’s just hormones, that I’ll grow out of this soon and meet a woman of my own stature, someone who comes from a family with the kind of wealth and power that the Kings of Krakow have. Those painted up prostitutes don’t have as much class in their whole body as Mia does in her little finger. It’s not hormonal. It’s the solid truth.
The night air is cool, and spring seems to be taking it’s happy time getting here this year. I think about walking into prom with Mia on my arm wearing a tasteful blue evening gown, covered all the way down to her ankles except for that little circle in between her shoulder blades, and instantly I’m warm.
I could get my dick wet any day of the week with anyone I pleased, but nothing makes me harder than the thought of that little circle of freckles on her back. The way her hair always smells like a fresh baked Christmas cake no matter what season. The way she gets so excited about the littlest fucking things, the stupidest fucking things that no other girls my age appreciate, like snowflakes in my eyelashes or a cloud that looks like the face of Jesus.
Every day of Mia’s sad existence is a fucking celebration, and I want to be a part of it.
The girl is so dirt poor she can’t even afford to pay attention, but she does. She notices. Everything.
Her face lights up from the window as I walk down the alleyway behind the bakery. She’s got a dusting of flour across her forehead. She waves her arms and smiles, and the back door swings open.
“Misiu,” I say, my little mouse, my pet name for her. I kiss her hand and her smile grows wider. I love the way she smiles so big, her lips disappear and all you can see are teeth. “You’re glowing.”
She shivers and pulls her ragged cardigan tight around her body. “I have some amazing news.”
I rub my hands up and down her arms, trying to warm her. “Are you finally going to be my girlfriend?”
She blushes and bats her eyelashes. I would marry this girl tomorrow if she just said the word. I don’t give a fuck if we are not even out of school yet. When you know, you know.
“Mr. Zielinski gave me a very generous raise!” she says.
“Is that so?” I ask.
“Yes! It’s enough that I’ll be able to help my father build that wheelchair ramp for mama. Just in time for spring. Oh, she’s going to be so excited.”
My teeth clench. I have enough money in my wallet right now I could buy her family’s whole house if I wanted to. Why did she have to born into a family where her father couldn’t even support them? It makes me so angry. She deserves so much more.
And yet she won’t take it.
“What’s wrong?” she asks.
“Nothing,” I say, tapping a cigarette out of my pack and lighting it up. I suck down a couple puffs, blowing the clouds of smoke over her shoulder. “That’s your money, Mia. You work hard for it. You should be able to do whatever you want with it.”
“And what would I want to do with it other than help my family?” She puts her hands on her hips and cocks her head to the side like she’s trying to figure out some intricate puzzle.
“Your family does nothing but take from you Mia. They don’t help you. They don’t support you.”
“They are all that I have in this world. They are a part of me, Serafin. Would you let your own mother suffer alone inside in pain all day?”
My mother has never suffered a day in her life, aside maybe giving birth to me, which is why she never had any other kids. She knew my father was a smart hardworking man and she let him handle things, as she should. As Mia could with me. She’s just too fucking stubborn to admit it.
“You’re going to Studniowka with me,” I say, tossing my cigarette to the ground and stubbing it out with my boot.
“I thought that was a given,” she says in her sing song voice. “My mother’s been helping me sew my dress for a month now. It is kind of suspicious Mr. Zielinski gave me that weekend off, though, now that I think about it.”
“Misui,” I pull her body close to mine. I can smell the vanilla in her hair, the fruity chapstick on her lips.
“I don’t want to know,” she says.
“Why are you so smart?” I put my lips just a centimeter from hers, feeling the air rush from her mouth. She quickly dips away and reaches in her pocket, popping a mint in her mouth. It’s never ending, this cat and mouse game, and for whatever reason, I don’t mind it at all. I live for it. It only feeds my fire.
“Misui…” I look at her and shake my head, taking one step closer. She bites her lip and smiles. I know she wants me. How could she not? I’ve got it all, the money, the power, the family, the looks. I’ve got everything she could possibly need to spend the rest of her life in complete bliss. She’d never have to work another day of her life. She could be my trophy, my princess, mine forever.
“Serafin!” she shouts, her eyes growing wide as saucers.
“I’m not gonna hurt you, little mouse,” I say, shaking my head.
“No, Serafin! Behind you!” she shrieks. I don’t have time to look over my shoulder before a set of hands are gripped around my neck. I jam my elbows into whoever it is, dig my boot right into their shin, but they don’t let up.
“Run!” I hiss.
“I’m calling the cops!” she says. “Let him go! I am calling the cops right now.”
Everything is going blurry as the air leaves my body. The grip around my throat loosens.
“What does she know?” a gruff voice shouts in my ear.
“She is nobody. A peasant. A whore,” I say. The words cut my mouth. They are lies. She is everybody and everything. The classiest most perfect woman in the entire world. I don’t look over my shoulder to see her expression. I can’t. My sweet little mouse needs protected at all costs. She doesn’t deserve to feel the suffering of my father’s decisions. This isn’t random, of that I’m certain.
As the brick makes contact with the side of my skull, I realize what I’ve should’ve known all along. I never deserved her love. I fall to the pavement, the acidic taste of blood flooding my mouth. My ears are ringing so loud, I can’t tell up from down. I can’t hear her screams anymore. I am mortified she had to witness this, that she had to see the man I really am, the man she suspected me of being this whole time.