All Whom I Have Loved Read Online Free PDF Page A

words came from her lips and not from her heart. Before going to sleep she said, “I have to go to work. I have no choice. You're a big boy and you understand.”
    When I didn't respond she began to cry. In the city she would sometimes cry over Father's behavior, about his wastefulness and the times he didn't come home. But thiswas a different kind of weeping; it was sharper and more bitter, as if she were saying, “You, too? You're ganging up with your father so as to hurt me?”
    I didn't know what to do, and I knelt down.
    “Don't make it so hard for me,” she implored.
    “I won't make it hard.”
    “I'm a new teacher and everyone's watching me.”
    “I won't cry, I promise.”
    Mother dried her eyes. Her face, which had become swollen from her tears, returned to itself, and she said, “What can I do? I have to go out to work. There's no one to support us.”
    Her words sounded rehearsed, but the more she said, the clearer it became that I would not be able to stop the nanny from coming the next day. So as not to show how much it hurt me and to please her, I said, “Don't worry about it, Mother. I'll go to the park with Halina.”

9
    The next day I stood by the door and said good-bye to Mother. I did not cry. I felt the anguish of parting later, in the bedroom, amidst the rumpled bed and scattered clothes. It was a sunny day, and the yard behind the house was filled with light. We went out, and Halina immediately began to show me her wonders: she walked on her hands and then made noises like the cawing of crows; she imitated sheep and cows, frogs and cuckoos. And for a moment she seemed to be not a person but an amazing animal that knew how to do everything that animals can do: to climb trees nimbly, to crawl, to leap over fences, and to fly. Halina lost no time in trying to teach me her skills, but I was far from agile and scarcely capable of producing a single whistle.
    Then we rolled in the grass. Halina was slender and very nimble. I tried hard to catch her, but she ran fast and could hop like a rabbit. I stared at her and I knew: I would never be able to do the same.
    And so the day passed. The pain of parting from Mother had pierced through me, but Halina was so entertaining that as the time passed I no longer felt it. When Mother returned home, I was playing marbles with Halina and I didn't hearher footsteps. She came in, immediately threw her briefcase onto the floor, and sat down on the sofa. As she stretched out and leaned back, she said, “How was it?”
    “We played.”
    “You didn't take a walk?”
    “We took a walk.”
    The following day Halina repeated her tricks. We had a midmorning snack, then we left for a walk along the main street, and from there we went down to the market. Now I saw the Ruthenian peasant women up close. They had spread out their vegetables and fruits on sacking and on low stalls. Some of their fowl were trussed up, and most were in cages. I saw them and it pained me.
    And so the morning passed. Halina would point to something and ask me its name in German. She found it hard to pronounce the words that I taught her. Everything amused her and she laughed. I found it hard to laugh, even when I was rolling in the grass.
    Mother came back from the school tired, her face as pale as chalk. She told me about the children who came from the villages, who found it hard to learn and were disruptive. The vestiges of anger could still be seen in her face, and for a moment she closed her eyes and rested her head on the back of the chair.
    We ate a late lunch on the porch. At this time of day, the porch was still filled with light. I wanted to make Mother happy, but I wasn't sure how. I told her that I was at the market but didn't tell her about the trussed chickens so as not to make her sad.
    In the afternoon we stayed in the house. Mother lay on the bed, a cloth to her forehead. The headaches that sheused to get in the city had now returned, with greater ferocity. She lay without