Possessed hearts - стр. 41

– Martin! – A man in his sixties, wearing dark trousers, a windbreaker and a cap, came to meet us. – Where have you been? Have you forgotten old Ales?

– Business, business. Here, I'd like you to meet him. This is my sister," replied my brother, shaking hands with the man.

– Good evening," I smiled politely, even though it was late at night.

– Good evening, good evening," Ales smiled. – Where to take you?

– Tonight – just her, and I'll walk myself, – said Martin. – She will tell me where.

– Then you're welcome. The car is not fancy, but you will be comfortable. – Ales opened the front door of his Skoda.

– I'll ride in the back seat," I told him as I approached the car.

– As you wish. – And the back door immediately opened in front of me.

– Bye, Martin. I'll call you. Enjoy the concert. – I got in the car.

– I'll get her home safe and sound," Ales told Martin.

– Just be careful: she's in a very bad mood today," he advised him. – Bye, sister! See you later!

– What did you say the name of this band was? – I asked, rolling down the window.

– Moonlight. Did you get it? – Martin asked with a sly smile.

– The lead singer has great make-up," I said instead of answering. – Bye!

– See you soon, grumpy! – And Martin disappeared round the corner.

– Where are we going? – Ales asked me, sitting down in the driver's seat.

– Kobza haus, – I answered. – A taxi is a part-time job, isn't it?

– Hehehe, you got me. Actually, I'm a mechanic, but my son is studying in Warsaw, at university. So, I have to take taxis after work. Education is expensive these days.

– I understand. But Martin must leave great tips, right?

– Yes, yes, my favourite customer, – Ales laughed good-naturedly. – Fasten your seatbelt, please.

We drove on a frankly bad road, which made me shake a little, along with the car.

I'm so used to bad roads!

Ales drove me to the hotel. We didn't speak. He's a great taxi driver – he stays out of trouble. I left him a very good tip, in dollars, which he accepted with a grateful smile, which made me smile too.

Well, doing good is interesting and satisfying, too.

Sometimes.

Three and a half hours had passed since I left the hotel. I'd spent them wandering around the old city. Even in the dim daylight, despite the rain, the puddles, my soaked sneakers and knee-length jeans that made me physically uncomfortable, Gdansk was worth seeing.

Martin was right. It is a very cosy city.

The city was badly damaged during World War II, like the rest of Poland, but the Polish government and patrons of the arts have allocated large sums of money to restore the old buildings to their original state, which is certainly pleasing to the eyes of both tourists and residents of my home country. The old town of Gdansk is a magical, childlike, slightly gloomy, but beautiful fairy tale. The houses are tall, standing in rows, striking in their uniqueness. There is not a single identical or similar to each other house. Each house is chiselled to the last detail, to the last curl on the stucco with folklore elements or human bodies and faces. This is an open-air museum. Everywhere there are paving stones, stone, stone railings, sculptures, everywhere you look at mythical creatures melded with stone. A beautiful long promenade lined with good cafes and restaurants. Ships in the harbour. Reminds me of my youth, when all this was familiar. Now that beauty has given way to technology. And while I love the modern world, the architecture and the convenience that civilisation and the best minds on the planet bring with each passing year, I am suddenly struck with a longing for the past. My youth. At that time nothing had bothered me, but now I was the food of a huge leech sitting inside me.