Absolute Sunset Read Online Free Page A

Even the smell couldn’t be imitated. Sabina had bought wild strawberry cream once and it stank.
    “You want some, daddy?” Hanka shouted to Janusz, who was trailing a little bit behind.
    “No, thanks. Wait by the turn because I’m not keeping up!” he laughed and adjusted the bag with the fishing rod, jumping from side to side in a funny way.
    The river appeared as soon as they took the turn. Hanka rushed through the waterside meadow, jumping over cowpats. From time to time she stopped to pick a handful of sorrel and put it into her mouth. Sabina forbid her to eat unwashed leaves, afraid of tapeworms. But Sabina wasn’t here.
    Hanka actually felt a bit sorry that her mother had never come with her and her father. She didn’t know what she was missing, never seeing the spot where they came to fish. It was near the bus stop, on a low, sandy bank. A very deep bight was hidden under a tree that grew out over the water. Janusz said it was two, or even three metres deep. Amongst the sunken roots, the fish drowsed. They glistened between the mossy boughs, as crooked as the fingers of the old ladies at church. It was enough to tempt the fish with good bait—they’d open their eyes and immediately take the hook.
    Later, Janusz and Hanka would clean them and prepare them for cooking at home. They’d cover them with breadcrumbs, fry them, and finally eat them. Her mother had never even tried one of the barbel they caught! “They’re toxic, stuffed with rubbish from the river. Everything is contaminated here!” she would complain, refusing to take a bite. It made Hanka sad. Probably Janusz too.
    In the end, they reached the spot. Hanka lay down on the grass, and Janusz peeked at the bottom of the bank, unfolding the equipment and casting with the fishing rod.
    “Can I have something to drink?” Hanka asked. She was thirsty after running crazily. She swallowed some water, then lay down again. Crickets chirped around her—she stayed quiet so as not to startle the fish.
    She was almost asleep when her father jumped to his feet.
    “Got a bite!” he whispered and pulled on the rod. Hanka sat up straight. “Strong one!” He looked happy, pulling back on the rod once more.
    The fish tumbled over and came up to the surface. Hanka saw it had green sides and a bright belly.
    “Pike! Dad, it’s a pike!” She smiled broadly. Pikes were rare. And tasty. Hanka especially liked them with onion. But they left their secret hiding spots, covered with calamus, reluctantly. And they were fast and careful. “Like every predator,” Janusz had explained to Hanka.
    Janusz concentrated on the fish and Hanka, nervous and suddenly hungry, took a walk along the shore. Her father would bring the pike in just fine, so long as the line didn’t get jammed.
    “Goddamn!” he muttered annoyed. “It’s caught between the roots,” he put the fishing rod back on its stand and took his shirt off. “I’ll get in and get it out—maybe I’ll catch the fish, too.”
    He took off his shoes and unzipped his trousers. He placed them together in a neat little pile, then stood up, bent into a bow, his hands forming an arrow, about to dive.
    “No!” Hanka suddenly shouted, grabbing him by the elbow. “Don’t dive!”
    Janusz smiled indulgently, patiently trying to explain.
    “Hania,” he explained. “Wait here and I’ll get the fly line out, it’s expensive.”
    But Hanka wasn’t giving up.
    “Don’t dive!” she howled and pulled back on her father’s shoulder. “No, no, don’t dive, don’t jump, do whatever, but don’t jump in here!” she yowled.
    “Hania, calm down. How am I going to get there otherwise? It’s too high and too steep to walk.” Janusz took his daughter by the shoulders and tried but failed to push her aside—Hanka put up a fierce resistance. “Don’t jump into water you don’t know!” That was the rule. She’d been told the same thing many times, and she could still remember the litany of possible