Heaven Tastes Like Peaches

Earlier Sławek mentioned that he and his grandfather did not eat all the fruit, but distributed them to their neighbors and they repaid the preserves. It only surprised Konrad that such a little girl had come for them. He quickly packed the groceries into the refrigerator and went outside. The girl crouched under the tree and stroked the old dog.

"Aren't you afraid he'll bite you?" Skalski asked, worried that this could happen.

"Not at all! Kędzior is a very good dog. He hasn't bitten anyone yet."

"Really? He looks threatening."

"Well, I've known him forever," she said, irritated that he didn't believe her. "You can pet him yourself."

"Maybe another time," he replied. He preferred not to get close to foreign dogs. Not that he didn't like them or was afraid of them. He just didn't want to take any chances.

Konrad walked over to the tree and looked up. The prettiest cherries were also beyond his reach. He had no idea how to get to them. Should he climb up the trunk to the crown? Only the boughs didn't seem very strong, suggesting they might not support his weight. But since he offered to help ...

"There's a ladder over there," girl announced pointing her finger at a nearby pear tree. "Two weeks ago, Sławek picked up lipcówki for me."

"Lipcówki?" Konrad sked.

"They're pears," she explained, sounding like she was explaining something to a silly child. "They are very tasty and bear fruit in early summer. That's why they are called that."

"Oh. I don't know much about fruit varieties. It's good that I can tell cherries from gean at all."

"And the peach and nectarine?" she became interested.

"Isn't that the same?"

"Of course not!" She announced firmly. "They are very similar, but peaches have fluff on the skin and nectarines do not. Everyone knows about it."

"If everyone knows about it, why did you ask if I know?"

"Well, because boys sometimes get it wrong," she replied grumpily.

Konrad did not know if he was to be offended or tickled. Not often primary school kids talked about him as a peer or even as someone younger than themselves. Usually he was a very mature adult to them. Not that he had frequent contact with such kids. Ultimately, he decided that being a "boy" wasn't so bad.

"Okay, then, to avoid confusion, show me which tree to put the ladder under," he ordered, walking to the ladder, which looked very old and worn.

"And you said you knew what cherries look like."

"I know. But I am a boy. I could be wrong."

"Typical," she said, rolling her eyes and cocking her nose like a purebred businesswoman. "It's a cherry," she pointed with her finger.

Funny little girl, Skalski thought as he pushed the ladder under the trunk. He checked her stability and slowly began to climb up the creaking rungs.

"Why didn't you ask Sławek for help?" Konrad asked, taking the bucket from her. "If I hadn't come, you would have been standing for so long."

"Because" she looked embarrassed "Sławek is very busy and he told me to go wherever I can reach. He said he had to finish something very important."

"You don't know what?" He asked casually, taking the first fruits.

"He definitely carves something, but I don't know what."

"You know he's a sculptor?"

"Sure! Everyone knows! I mean, that's what we say about him, but no one has seen his sculptures. Only grandfather Sławoj said that his grandson had real talent."

"Really nobody saw his sculptures?"

"Yeah, really nobody. Why do you live with Sławek? Are you his friend from school?"

"What? No…" Konrad guessed that his relationship with Domejczuk would interest people, and although they had nothing indecent in common, people could imagine things and talk nonsense. "My mother was friends with his mother, and my father did business with Mr. Sławoj. You can say that our families have known each other for years. Mom is a bit worried about how Sławek will handle himself shortly after his grandfather's death."

It was not entirely true, but it was also not a pure lie. The version of events presented by him could be accepted as official.

The girl's voice was as serious as if she were expressing her own concerns for her neighbor. Konrad smiled. The little one was really cute.

"You can tell your mom," she added, "she doesn't need to worry. If Sławek needs help, I will help him."

This mature declaration made a butterfly flutter restlessly in Skalski's heart.

"You like him, huh?"

"No!" She replied immediately with the eagerness of a person who is trying to convince someone of his lie.

The question was innocent, and yet her reaction made Konrad feel uncomfortable.

"But I guess the other girls like him, huh?" He asked sarcastically.

"Others, yes," she admitted blushing.

"A lot?" Skalski felt his heart beating harder. Sławek had a really attractive face, and his artistic soul must have appealed to girls who were always sensitive to the charms of poets, painters and musicians. Probably sculptors too.

"A lot," she admitted.

"Does he have a girlfriend?"

"No."

"Why? Since he is so popular ..."

The question was stupid. The little girl could not know the answer. What can such a snot know about adult affairs? Especially when it comes to feelings or even sex.

"Sławek moved here three years ago" to his surprise the girl started a very logical explanation. "It was the last year of junior high school and he just lost his mother. He wasn't looking for friends. Then he started high school and went home right after school to help his grandfather. There aren't many girls his age in the village."

Right, Skalski realized. It is true that he is not here long, but he has not yet seen any of his peers. There were a few minors, he met two or three young mothers in the store, but you could see the difference of a few years. Maybe for older people the difference of three years is nothing, but for an eighteen-year-old, a fifteen-year-old is still a child. And what about a twelve-year-old girl like this little girl?

This must be the most serious problem of rural life, Konrad said. The population density is much lower here than in the city, so there are also fewer peers with whom you can make friends and go somewhere. And even if they are, you cannot choose someone with whom you share your interests. It was probably the same with the girls.

"But if there are no girls his age around, how do you know they like him?"

"All my friends find him pretty."

"And you do not?" Konrad asked.

"I do not."

She lowered her head and replied so softly he could barely hear her. He'd bet the little one was blushing now like the cherry he'd been picking