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He grabbed acebularzand took a bite, relishing the sweet flavour of the onion mixed with the salty bread.
“How was it for Antoni and Waltrina at the market today?”asked Papa.He was the grandfather Jan always wished he’d had.His own on his mother’s side had died.His father’s parents lived in a remote part of Poland, and he hadn’t seen them since the war broke out.
Papawore a buttoned shirt with a cardigan pulled loosely over the top.His brown hair was carefully groomed to one side, and his cheekbones were accentuated by two red circles that grew more vibrant in the cold weather.
“Good, I think,” replied Jan around a mouthful ofcebularz.Babcia handed him a plate of steamingpierogistuffed with chopped liver and spices and topped with braised sauerkraut.His stomach grumbled in anticipation.He sat at the kitchen table with Papa,who shone his shoes with black polish and a well-used rag.An old towel was carefully laid out beneath his shoes and a pot of black polish.
He dipped a small brush into the polish and rubbed it across the leather.“Good, good.There are many mouths to feed.It is good the business continues thriving even when the Nazis come.They can’t stop enterprise, it seems.”
Barek jogged down the stairs, his shirt sleeves rolled up and red suspenders showing.“Oh, hello, Jan.”
Jan nodded, his mouth too full to speak.He swallowed thepierogi.“Where’s Jakob?”
“He’s working,” replied Berek.“Fela, too.I’m sure you’ll see them later.Itching for a game of football, are you?”
Jan’s smile gave him away.“If the weather holds.”
“Going to be the next Ernest Wilimowski, I’ll bet,” added Papaas he set aside one gleaming shoe and reached for the other.
“Get those shoes off my table,” complained Babcia, playfully flicking a dish towel at her husband.
He clucked his tongue.“Leave me be, woman.I’m not bothering anyone.”
She rolled her eyes, but didn’t say anything else.Berek winked at Jan, who smiled around apierogi.He loved their playful banter.It was so much better to be here, in the warm apartment filled with love, than at home with his sisters when Mama wasn’t there.The three of them agreed on that, at least.
Jadzia had joined Nathan in a game of cards, and Danuta had convinced Nacha to bring out one of her old dolls.They were dressing it and undressing it, arguing over names and setting out chipped cups and cracked plates on the timber floor for a pretend meal of coffee and bagels.
Papafinished polishing his shoes and set them by the front door.Then he quickly cleaned up his mess on the kitchen table.He raised his arms and waved them around, eyebrows arched, as if to say, “See?”
Babcia rolled her eyes again and huffed, but the corners of her mouth twisted upwards.
Papareached for his violin case where it sat in the corner of the room.He opened it and began tuning the instrument.
“What do you say, children?Shall we have some music?”
Berek filled a plate withpierogi, kissed Babcia on the cheek, and sat at the table beside Jan.He hunched over his plate, eating ravenously.
“Yes, please!”shouted Jan, along with a chorus of assent from the other children who’d leapt to their feet and rushed to the kitchen table.
Papa laughed and drew his bow over the strings.“Let’s see.What shall I play?”
“Nigun Cracow!”called Danuta, clapping her hands together joyfully.
Jan sniffed.“You always ask for the same song.”
“I like it,” she said, her nose wrinkling as she poked out her tongue at him.
“No fighting,” called Babcia from the kitchen.
Papa launched right into the song.He stood to his feet, the bow dancing across the violin strings, and moved into the living room.Each step he took was in steady rhythm with the notes he played.He stood in one corner and, as he continued to play, his foot tapped on the floor in time to the music.
Nacha grabbed Jadzia by the hand and spun her around.She giggled as she slammed into Berek.He picked her up and tossed her into the air until she squealed, then set her down as Danuta begged to have a turn.
Jan finished his meal, his stomach satisfyingly full, and joined them in the small, square room, doing his best impression of a jig around the space without tripping over anyone else or the sparse furniture.
Nacha and Jadzia danced together around the couch, round and round until they collapsed in a pile, too dizzy to keep going.Berek threw Danuta into the air over his head until his arms couldn’t manage another toss.Jan and Nathan spun in circles until he could no longer see straight to stand.And all the while, Papa played, his song speeding up with each pass.
Babcia came in from the kitchen and watched them all with a smile as she wiped her hands on a white apron pulled taut around her waist.Then she tossed the apron aside, lifted her skirts, and began to dance.Her feet tapped to the left, then the right, then back again.Before long, everyone else had joined in a circle around the couch.Left, right, left, right, then a shuffle forward and a spin to the back.
