Where the Devil Says Goodnight (Folk Lore 1)

But he wasn’t in bed. His bare feet cooled from the hardwood floor, and he stood in the middle of the small room, unable to come up with a logical reason why he wasn’t still sweating into the soft mattress or why there was a sharp aftertaste on his tongue. He smacked his lips, trying to work out what the flavor was, only to come to the conclusion it reminded him of radishes. Had he sleepwalked to the kitchen and eaten some?

It had been a while since this had last happened, but perhaps the uncomfortable bed and the stress of the previous few days had strained him more than he thought.

He approached the small window in hope for weather better than yesterday, and the sun peeking through the thin checked curtains brought a small smile to his face. The past week had been a nightmare, but he could start afresh here and spend the entire summer in a beautiful corner of the country. What was the worst that could happen?

He parted the curtains and yelped when something dark swung straight at him and hit the glass. Surprise turned into ice-cold dread when he realized it was a dead magpie someone had hung from the eaves right in front of his window.

Adam’s heart beat fast, as if he were on the verge of a panic attack. “What. The. Fuck,” he whispered, staring at the poor thing, which couldn’t even name its killer. Adam’s lips dried when he focused on the sun rays seeping through the long feathers on the tail and wings, but as the bird kept swaying, like a pendulum on a red string, Adam’s gaze captured the golden glow beyond it.

The window opened into a lush meadow speckled with red, blue, and violet flowers. Two slopes covered with thick woodland descended in the distance to create an uneven ‘V’-shape. There seemed to be two narrow entryways into the valley, and at their highest points, the tall hills on either side were reminiscent of walls erected by some ancient being to protect its domain.

The waters of a lake glistened in the distance and the shimmer caused a profound sense of déjà vu. Adam had no recollection of anyone mentioning the meadow to him, but he couldn’t help feeling as if he’d walked through this very grass in the past, that the flowers and fat heads of grain had caressed his palms, and that he had taken a dip in the cool water overshadowed by trees far more ancient than the walls of the parsonage.

He took a deep breath, glancing at the sun, but before its glow could have stabbed his eyes, the magpie slapped against the glass again, tearing Adam out of the trance. It presented a grim image, but at the end of the day it was just a dead animal, probably left by a cruel child.

Adam’s first instinct was to ask the housekeeper for some gloves, and remove the bird, but one look at the dark spots where his gray T-shirt stuck to his chest made him head for the bathroom instead.

Once he was clean, dressed, shaved, and had put his hair in order, he checked his cell phone, only to find out there was no reception. Oh well, that was why landlines still existed.

Despite the sorry state of the packaging, Adam decided to proceed with his original plan and offer the chocolates to the pastor, so he took them with him as he ventured beyond his room in search of the man himself.

The sound of plates clinking down the corridor gave him pause the moment he remembered how angry Mrs. Janina had been last night, but he couldn’t creep around the parsonage forever. Because he belonged here now, and wouldn’t flee from her view like a cockroach.

He was about to enter the kitchen through a white door with matte glass panels in the upper half when a loud ringing cut through the air. The rapid clatter of metal utensils made him freeze, and he pressed himself flat to the wall when someone passed through the room, dragging their feet, and picked up the phone.

“This is the parsonage in Dybukowo. Janina Luty speaking.”

The earlier confidence dwindled inside Adam. He could have made use of her distraction, but after the bad start they’d had last night, he didn’t want to disturb Mrs. Janina’s conversation either, so he stayed still in hope she’d call over the pastor.

“Oh, oh, my sweet boy! How are they treating you there?” Mrs. Janina exclaimed, putting a definitive end to Adam’s hopes. He shouldn’t be listening to private conversations, but if he moved, the old wooden floor might creak, revealing that he’d already eavesdropped, which left him in a conundrum of his own making.

Even hearing one side of the conversation, Adam managed to gather a lot of information on Mrs. Janina. Her grandson’s name was Patryk, and he’d recently moved abroad to study. That alone wasn’t all that surprising, but when Mrs. Janina and Patryk went on to discuss money, Adam felt he really should have announced his presence.