'Congratulations, sir, you have a son, a fine - looking little boy. 0 What silly remarks people make when a child is born ' the father thought; how could he be anything but little? The news hadn't yet dawned on him - a son. He almost thanked God. The obstetrician ventured a question to break the silence.
'Have you decided what you will call him?'
The father answered without hesitation. 'William Lowell Kane.'
3
Long after the excitement of the baby's arrival had passed and the rest of the farnily had gone to bed, the mother remained awake with the little child in her arms. Helena Koskiewicz believed in life, and she had borne nine children to prove it. Although she had lost three in infancy, she had not let any of them go easily.
Now at thirty - five she knew that her once lusty jasio would give her no more sons or daughters. God had given her this one; surely he was destined to live. Helena's was a simple faith, which was good, for her destiny was never to afford her more than a simple life. She was grey and thin, not through choice but through little food, hard work, and no spare money. It never occurred to her to complain but the lines on her face would have been more in keeping with a grandmother than a mother in today's world. She had never worn new clothes evep once in her life.
Helena squeezed her tired breasts so hard that dull red marks appeared around the nipples. Little drops of milk squirted out. At thirty - five, halfway through life's contract, we all have sorne useful piece of expertise to pass on and Helena Koskiewicz's was now at a premium.
'Matka's littlest one,' she whispered tenderly to the child, and drew the milky teat across its pursed mouth. The blue eyes opened and tiny drops of sweat broke out on the baby's nose as he tried to suck. Finally the mother slumped unwillingly into a deep sleep.
Jasio Ko - kiewicz, a heavy, dull man with a full moustache, his only gesture of self - assertion in an otherwise servile existence, discovered his wife and the baby asleep in the rocking chair when he rose at five.
He hadn't noticed her absence from their bed that night. He stared down at the bastard who had, thank God, at least stopped wailing. Was it dead? Jasio considered the easiest way out of the dilemma was to get himself to work and not interfere with the intruder; let the woman worry about life and death: his preoccupation was to be on the Baron's estate by first light. He took a few long swallows of goat's milk and wiped his luxuriant moustache on his sleeve. Then he grabbed a hunk of bread with one hand and his traps with the other, slipping noiselessly out of the cottage for fear of waking the woman and getting himself involved. He strode away towards the forest, giving no more thought to the little intruder other than to assume that he had seen him for the last time.
Florentyna, the elder daughter, was next to enter the kitchen, just before the old clock, which for many years had kept its own time, claimed that six a.m. had arrived. It was of no more than ancillary assistance to those who wished to know if it was Ehe hour to get up or go to bed. Among Florentyna's daily duties was the preparatioA of the breakfast, in itself a minor task involving the simple division of a skin of goat's milk and a lump of rye bread among a family of eight. Nevertheless, it required the wisdom of Solomon to carry out the task in such a way that no one complained about another's portion.
Florentyna struck those who saw her for the first time as a pretty, frail, shabby little thing. It was unfair that for the last three years she had had only one dress to wear, but those who could separate their opinion of the child from that of her surroundings understood why Jasio had fallen in love with her mother. Florrentyna's long fair hair shone while her hazel eyes sparkled in defiance against the influence of her birth and diet.
She tiptoed up to the rocking chair and stared down at her mother and the little boy whom she had adored at first sight. She had never in her eight years owned a doll. Actually she had only seen one once, when the family had been invited to a celebration of the feast of St. Nicholas at the Baron's castle. Even then she had not actually touched the beautiful object, but now she felt an inexplicable urge to hold this baby in her arms. She bent down and eased the child away from her mother and, staring down into the little blue eM - such blue eyes - she began to hum. The change of temperature from the warmth of the mother's breast to the cold of the little girl's hands made the baby indignant. He immediat( - Iy started crying which woke the mother, whose only reaction was of guilt for ever having fallen asleep.
'Holy God, hes still alive,' she said to Florentyna. Tou prepare breakfast for the boys while I try to feed him again!
Florentyna reluctantly handed the infant back and watched her mother once again pump her aching breasts. The little girl was mesmerised.