Where the Devil Says Goodnight (Folk Lore 1)

“You look good son!”

“Mom couldn’t make it?”

Dad’s body faltered, and he pulled away, resting his hands on his hips as he watched Adam with obvious discomfort. “She’ll come around eventually. You know she will.”

Adam wasn’t entirely sure that would be the case, but he still smiled back and gave Dad one more pat on the back. “Here’s to hoping.”

Dad rubbed his moustache, looking at the building site. “Maybe… if you came home for a few days, she’d find it easier to accept all the changes. You could bring Emil with you, stay at that little bed and breakfast close by, and show him where you’ve grown up—“

Adam’s heart squeezed with longing. There was nothing he’d want more, but the truth was that being a prisoner in this valley was a small price to pay for all the good fortune in his life.

“We shall see,” he lied.

Dad licked his lips, once again glancing at the building materials and the foundations. “Wouldn’t it be easier for both of you to live in a bigger city? Or maybe even somewhere people didn’t know you… you know, before.”

Before Adam left priesthood and became the next incarnation of a pagan god. But Dad knew nothing of the truth behind Adam’s change of heart, and he never would.

“It’s really fine. Most people here are more tolerant than they’re given credit for. We take care of our own in this valley,” Adam said and glanced toward the shack. Emil was taking a suspiciously long time with the drinks.

Dad’s cheeks flushed, but he met Adam’s eyes, suddenly tense. “I’m sorry.”

“About what?”

“That I let you become a priest. I knew you weren’t really happy, but I didn’t want to pry.”

It was one of the sweetest, most considerate things Adam had ever heard from anyone, and he pulled his dad into a tight hug that expressed the depth of his gratitude. For his presence here. For his acceptance. For being the best father Adam could have had.

“It’s all right. I think I needed to go through all that to understand myself better. I’d like you to meet him.”

Dad’s throat twitched as he swallowed, but he followed Adam’s lead toward the open door of the shack.

Emil must have understood there was no point in hiding anymore, because he stepped outside in a fresh T-shirt and with shiny hair that had just been combed. There was no hiding his tattoos, though.

“Mr. Kwiatkowski. It’s a pleasure to finally see you in person,” he said but only shook Dad’s hand when it was offered. The exchange of greetings was hilariously awkward, but it warmed Adam’s heart to finally have the two most important men in his life meet. Even if the most important woman wasn’t ready to accept him for who he was.

“Are you ready for Kupala Night?” Emil asked in the end and walked back into the tiny cabin before emerging with glasses of fresh lemonade. They’d picked the mint for it in the woods just this morning.

***

The folk instruments were in such beautiful disharmony it bordered on perfection. Adam leaned back against Emil and listened to the music while his teeth sank into a delicious piece of plum cake one of his new converts had offered him at the beginning of the evening.

Dad had been too tired to stay up in the end, but he wasn’t leaving Dybukowo for a week, and Adam was already looking forward to catching up with him. Now though, he was planning to enjoy the one night of the year he could spend in his own flesh.

Emil’s arm was sturdy behind his back, and as they watched their people gather around the huge bonfire, Adam couldn’t help but wonder at how drastically his life had changed in a year’s time.

“Shall we look for the fern flower tonight?” he whispered, rolling his head over Emil’s shoulder, so they faced one another. Emil’s lips twitched.

“Are you saying you want to visit my Grandmother in the woods?”

Adam sighed and discreetly slid his fingers under Emil’s T-shirt, tickling warm skin. “Not exactly—”

“It’s a beautiful night.” Father Marek’s voice came as a surprise, and Adam noticed the priest approaching their blanket. He didn’t smile, but considering that this was the first time he had willingly approached Adam since the truth about his and Emil’s relationship had come out, it seemed he was ready to bury the hatchet at last.

“It is. How are things working out with your new housekeeper?”

The pastor shrugged and had a sip from a small bottle of vodka. “She’s a much nicer person, but no one can bake like Mrs. Janina used to. May God rest her soul.”

Adam’s stomach grumbled when he remembered the gamey flavor of her meat, so he pushed the remaining chunk of cake deep into his mouth. The pastor stared back at him, his brows rising, but he soon excused himself and walked off to chat with some of the older residents.