Chapter 1
Birthday Present
Prałkowce, Poland
26 January 2019

A few kilometers outside the town was a little plot of land skirting the woods. A narrow dirt road led to the tiny orphanage situated just a stone's throw from the treeline. From the outside, it looked little different from a farmhouse and inside was much the same. Indeed, with more chickens than children, it scarcely deserved to be called an orphanage and was only done so to secure support from the state to keep the little family inside together.
Said family was not concerning itself with qualifications and finances at the moment, though. Today was a happy occasion. The youngest of the three children was celebrating his tenth birthday. The decorations were the crude yet earnest work of primary schoolers and the cake was a similar sort of effort from one of the members of the staff. These were not people who knew much of anything about luxury, so rather than being seen as meager offerings, these were festivities fit for a king.
The song was sung and the candles blown out before the cake was cut and divvied up, with a double portion going to the birthday boy. Once the cake was eaten, it was time for presents.
The gifts told more about the givers than the recipient. From the stern-looking and conservatively dressed Asian woman he received a book, a collection of folktales. From the gentle yet slightly airheaded woman who baked the cake, an amateurish hand-knit scarf. From the man who looked like he should be working on a construction site or cutting down the trees out back, a plastic toy bow with little suction cup arrows. From the girl about the same age, a pair of socks to go with the scarf, of very near the same level of workmanship. And lastly from the slightly older boy, who tried to carry himself with the aloof bearing of an older brother despite being a little smaller than his younger counterpart, a prized trading card he claimed to no longer need.
With the presents opened, the birthday boy took the toy bow in hand, wrapped the scarf about his neck and proposed to go outside to play. A look from the girl prompted him to conscientiously bring the socks along as well, but not before tucking the trading card between the pages of the book for safekeeping.
When the children had all run out of the house with the family dog excitedly following after them, the adults could begin to clear the table and pick up the tissue paper left scattered on the floor.
As the Asian woman was stacking the plates, she said with a faint hint of annoyance, "Of course he liked your present best, Baul."
"Aw, don't be like that, Junka," the man said. "He's gotta run out of energy eventually and when he does, he'll wanna curl up with a good book, your book."
Despite her stern front, Jun was quite susceptible to compliments, especially when they came from Pawel. As much as she tried to maintain an air of dignified detachment, the slight flush to her cheeks was proof she was not so detached after all.
"You know Fedya is just shy," the other woman said after licking the frosting from the knife used to cut the cake.
"He didn't seem that shy about that scarf you made, Sopia," Jun countered.
"Oh, he just didn't want to hurt my feelings is all," Zofiya said. "He knew what a bad job I did and was playing it up."
Hearing this, Jun could only sigh.
"I could stand to be played up to once in a while. He always did like you best..."
"I thought we agreed that this isn't a competition," Pawel said. "You start thinking about who likes who better and it'll drive you crazy. We're in this together, right?"
Jun did not answer, prompting Pawel to put down the trash he was collecting and stand up. He took hold of Jun's chin and said in a soft voice, "Hey. Look at me."
With some reluctance she met his eyes as he told her again, "We're in this together, right?"
She closed her eyes and nodded. Pawel's hand moved to caress her cheek.
"That's my girl," he said.
Jun leaned into his hand, but only for a moment before going into the kitchen to put the plates in the sink. Seeing this, Zofiya followed and embraced her from behind. Neither Zofiya nor Pawel noticed the way Jun was gripping the edge of the sink.
If something was going to happen, it was interrupted by the children rushing back inside.
"What's goin' on here?" Pawel asked.
"It's raining!" Fedor said.
Pawel looked out the window and saw the clear weather, then looked back to the children and told them, "You're not too big to get swatted for tellin' tales. Now get back out there so we can finish cleaning up."
"But it really is raining!" the girl, Zsuzsanna, said.
"Your little rear isn't any less swattable, missy," Pawel said. "Now get."
The older boy, Arjun, ushered them along before Pawel could make good on his threat, empty though it was.
Almost as soon as they left, they had come right back.
Once again, Fedor said, "It's raining!"
And once again, Pawel saw that it was not in fact raining, but before he could say anything, this time it was Arjun backing up Fedor's claim.
"I'm telling you it's raining."
"You too?" Pawel asked incredulously. "You're hide's already tan, so I don't know what I'm gonna do with you."
"See for yourself," Arjun said. "If I'm lying, you can string me up by my toes."
Expecting this to be some sort of silly prank, Pawel decided to go along with it, all the while thinking up how he was going to turn the tables on them.
"I think I'll take you up on that," he said. "Lead the way, lady and gents."
The children led Pawel to the front of the house and when they opened the door, it was indeed raining.
"Well, I'll be damned," he said, wondering how it could be raining on one side of the house and not the other. "Maybe I'm the one who needs a swattin'. Maybe I can ask Mama Zosia later... You know what? I bet Mama Junka will put a little more oompf into it."
He realized a little too late that such talk was not exactly appropriate for children's ears. He would have to hope they were still too young to understand and that the ladies of the household were out of earshot.
Giving the children something to do would be a fine way to distract them and so Pawel told them, "Don't just stand there, kids. Go around the house and make sure all the windows are closed. Hurry now!"
And so the children took and the commotion drew out Zofiya.
"What's going on?" she asked.
"Can you believe it?" Pawel replied. "Rainin' on one side of the house and not the other. Damnedest thing. I told the kids to go shut the windows."
No sooner had he said that than the rain suddenly let up. It did not take long for the children to come tumbling back downstairs.
"The rain stopped! The rain stopped!" Fedor said. "Can we go back out an' play?"
"Why're you askin' me?" Pawel replied. "Go on. Get."
The children did not need to be told twice and ran outside. Pawel and Zofiya exchanged glances, then he called out to Jun.
"We're gonna go keep an eye on the three little monkeys. Come on out when you're done in there."
As they headed out the door, Zofiya slipped her arm around Pawel's. She usually refrained from such gestures when Jun was around, but she must have thought it was safe while Jun was busy in the kitchen.
Pawel knew the current situation could not last much longer. He had put off making a decision for too long. He could make excuses when they were starting out. Setting up this place and raising three small children kept them busy enough that they could ignore the elephant in the room, but now that they were settled and the children were older, it was time to set things straight.
If he was pressed for it, really pressed, he would mostly likely go for Zofiya. They had been together longer, but Jun had been through nearly as much with them. He could not let her go then and he did not imagine he could do so now. The three of them had gotten along well enough these past few years, but they were all holding themselves back. If they were to stop doing that, could they maintain balance between them? All signs pointed to no, but if one was chosen and the other rejected, they would not be able to stay together, and if he rejected both, they would probably team up to skin him alive.
He then realized there was no reason for him to be racking his brain all on his lonesome. They were in this together, as he said. They would just have to talk it out and hopefully, hopefully they could come to an agreement everyone could live with.
Pawel was pulled away from these thoughts by the sound of the children making a racket. It was not like he expected them to play quietly, especially when outdoors, and he would not have thought too much of it until he saw why they were making such a racket.
At first, he did not believe what he was seeing. The clouds in the distance had twisted into a funnel that snaked its way to the ground. Cyclones like this were supposed to be fairly common in the Americas, but they were almost unheard of here. To be honest, Pawel did not know what to do, but being out here in the open surely was not it.
"Get back in the house!" he shouted. "Come on! Run!"
Not content to let the children's short legs do the work, Pawel darted ahead. He would have gotten all three, but as Zofiya was right there with him, he let her take Zsuzsanna while he scooped up Fedor and Arjun, one under each arm.
Now, Pawel was no meteorologist. He had no idea how fast a cyclone normally moved, but for this one, it proved to be faster than a man could run. The last thing he saw was Jun in the doorway, watching in horror as the cyclone bore down on them. He was pretty sure he yelled at her to stay back, but she probably did not hear him. Cyclones, after all, really were as loud as freight trains, just like people say.
When the whipping winds snatched them up off the ground, he could not remember a single thing after that.