Where Foxes Hunt with Wolves (Folk Lore 2)
Page 69
Radek’s eyes went wide. “It’s my property, and if you don’t put that away right now, I will fire you!”
A younger man in a stained puffy jacket approached in quick strides. He’d only been an onlooker so far, but the threat of violence pushed him into action. “What is it that you came here for, Mr. Nowak?” he asked as he pried the potential weapon out of Gawron’s hands. “I’m Tomek Sowa, in charge of building the new enclosure.”
“Stop whatever you’re doing until I look at plans,” Radek said. “And no skinning. It all needs to halt.”
Gawron raised his hands as if he were praying. “Jesus Christ! This kid doesn’t know anything, Tomek! He thought we’re skinning them all year round. We’re all gonna lose our jobs at this rate.”
It made sense. Spring was approaching fast, and the foxes were losing their winter coat. What Radek needed to do was split the breeding pairs, so they wouldn’t soon end up with a few hundred new kits.
A low buzz tickled Yev’s ear, and he scowled at the sight of a car approaching fast along the narrow driveway. Someone had been alerted to Radek’s plans.
Radek looked over his shoulder. “Fuck. It’s Golonko, the co-owner,” he told Yev, but then turned back to Tomek and Gawron. “You won’t be losing your jobs, because the animals still need caring for. And building the extra enclosure could still go forward so the foxes have more ss-ss-space,” he choked out.
This was bad. Radek’s sweat scented the air, his face got all red, and his top lip kept twitching like a rabbit’s.
Yev came closer. “Essentially, he wants their conditions improved before he can make further decisions.”
“Nobody’s asked you,” Gawron hissed, but when he moved closer, Tomek stepped in to hold him back. His clear blue eyes blinked when a silver S-class Mercedes drove into the yard.
“Mr. Nowak, I think you should discuss it all with Mr. Golonko. He’s conveniently—”
“What the hell?” Golonko roared, stepping out of the car in clothes stained with paint. He must have been doing some DIY when Radek’s mom called him. Because Yev had no doubt it was her doing. Sure, as Radek’s mother, she deserved respect, but this was still a stab in the back.
Radek turned toward Golonko, who was a dried-out man in his forties. Was it a trick of the light or had the boy’s temples gotten red with fur for a split second? “Mr. Golonko, I’m sorry I didn’t call, but this is urgent. The conditions our animals live in need correcting.”
Golonko’s narrow face flushed, squinting at Radek from behind small glasses. His thinning gray hair flopped to one side, as if he’d been squeezing them under a woolen cap all day, but he still looked dead serious.
“Absolutely not. You’ve never even stepped in here before, and now you want to dictate how I run the farm? Ridiculous!”
“I own half of this business,” Radek said, and Yev was indeed glad he’d come with him, because Radek needed all the support he could get with all these men out for his blood. “You want me to report on the conditions? I will!”
Golonko shook his head. “And what? Pay a fine? Spend some time in jail if they rule against the farm, which, as you eloquently put it, you co-own? You’ve got no idea how this kind of business is done!”
Radek bared his teeth, and it was almost as if his face elongated for a second. “How ‘it’s done’, is not good enough for me!”
Gawron snarled. “You telling me I’m not doing my job right, boy?” He shoved Radek back, and something in Yev snapped. His fist collided with Gawron’s chin so hard the bastard spun around twice before dropping face-down into the dirty snow piled at the edge of the yard.
Everyone froze. Only Tomek dropped to his knees to help Gawron to his feet. Poor bastard. The place was probably still standing because of him.
“The fuck did you just do?” Mr. Golonko said, but despite the frosty air, Yev could smell the stench of his fear.
“What no one else would. This man should be tested for illegal substances. We could call the police right now,” he said. Gawron stank of booze, wasn't capable of taking care of animals, and everyone there knew it.
Tomek discreetly shook his head at Mr. Golonko while Radek took shelter next to Yev. The trust it suggested made butterflies float in Yev’s stomach, and he wanted to be worthy of it.
Mr. Golonko squinted at them. “What do you want, Radek? I know this brings you lots of cash without lifting a finger, so what’s this grand moral awakening?”
“I want the place cleaned up, and there needs to be an expansion, because the animals have no space and hurt themselves. Give it one month, and we can go from there.”