Stefan Jakobielsky (credit: Wikipedia)





Vodka Vobrufka

“This time I’m really done.”

“Done with Victor.”

“Yes.”

“Something happened.”

“Yes.”

“That made you see him …as he is.”

“I used to think his flip attitude was just his way. And most of the time, it was funny. But I saw last night that if it is his so-called ‘way’, I want no more to do with it. Sometimes, it isn’t funny. To anyone. Me. His family. We were all rolling our eyes for real last night.”

“Shauna, I think you need to talk. Why don’t you just tell me what happened?”

“Hah. Am I lucky! Most girls talk to a girlfriend. I talk to my brother.”

“Five years older, and very wise.”

“Wise, schmise. But you are a good listener. I’ll admit that.”

“So. What happened?”

“We went to the Polish Hall last night. You knew that.”

“His parents are Polish. It’s a given for half the Poles in Edmonton. New Year’s dance at the Polish Hall. They got some tough guys. Happy 1972, by the way.”

“More fighting nonsense. Guys in this town are apes. Who cares ‘who can take who’? It’s such stupidity.”

“But anyway ….”

“Yeah. Anyway. The usual. A bunch of guys drinking beer and vobrufka. Some old ones sitting around the outside of the hall. A bunch of yappy women, talking sixteen to the dozen. Reeking of Coty perfume. Lunch at 12:30. The usual.”

“And wishing someone cute would dance with them.”

“You wishing you were there?”

“Well …maybe, yeah. Linda’s party was so boring. Her mom peeking in and out the whole time. The Polish Hall has some big-chested broads. Kim Novaks.”

“Haha. Yeah. Laura Chernowski was there. Eat your heart out.”

“Now that’s cruel. Now that’s just cruel.”

“Thirty eights and all. In tight mohair.”

“Ooooh. But enough about me. C’mon. What happened?”

“Well, you know Vic’s jahgoo …Grampa …lives in their basement.”

“Vic is still a sort of a friend of Wayne and me. Sure I know.”

“But did you know he was a big general in their army in ’39 to ’45? Regular army and underground. I forget the word in Polish.”

“I think I heard that. Got out when the Russians started cleaning house.”

“That’s it. But he fought the Nazis, then the Russians. Got out with six trusted guys left. It must be some story. And he’s a member of what they call ‘the Polish government-in-exile’. I didn’t know that till last night.”

“Who told you that?”

“We came in the door. Whole family. Even Cathy and she’s just 9.”

“Polish New Year dance. They all gotta go.”

“Anyway, we all go in the door in the usual way. Say ‘hi’ to people. Jahgoo comes in last. An’ a bunch of men let up a yell and come rushing over to him.”

“They weren’t gonna fight with an old guy?! He must be over 70. Nah!!”

“Oh, no. No, not that at all. They were Slavic ecstatic.”

“Slavic what? That’s hilarious. Thought up that word yourself, did you?”

“Well, it fits. I’ve seen it enough times by now. Moaning and weeping.”

“I’ve seen it. What was going on? They like Jahgoo that much?”

“Love, brother. Love. There is no other word for it. He hasn’t been there for a couple years.”

“Well …in honesty …I’m not totally surprised. Have you read any history? You know. Polish struggle in World War 2?”

“Lording your education over me again?”

“You’ll be there in a few months. You can study it for yourself.”

“I’m taking Life Sciences. History bores me cross-eyed.”

“It gets interesting. Trust me. You just have to get past the dates of battles and stuff like that. Start looking for causes. Like Science. Then it gets fascinating.”

“For you. It’s still dry as the Sahara to me.”

“We’re wandering. So what was it Vic did?”

"Oh, he got pissed drunk. And these men were coming up to Jahgoo all night. Talking. Sharing memories, I guess. Praising him to the skies. I know a little Polish. Enough to get that much. This grey old guy. To them, he’s a god.”

“And Vic got mad? Resentful or something?”

“You know him. Yes. Basically.”

“Lemme guess. He started mocking the whole scene.”

“He started coming over to Jahgoo and kissing his hand. The old man didn’t want to criticize his grandson in public. He was trying to pretend it was cute or funny or something. And two of Vic’s drunk buddies came over and did it too. All exaggerating that sarcastic extra bit.”

“Okay and then it got ugly. Dad, I bet. Stan.”

“He dragged Vic outside. Vic’s pretty strong, but his dad is a piano mover.”

“I told you they had some tough guys.”

“Tina and I followed them out. She was crying. Well, her husband and her son.”

“How ugly’d it get?”

“Oh, Stan slapped Vic about six times. Knocked Vic right to the ground. In the snow in the parking lot. Picked him up and tossed him in the air. It was scary.”

“And Vic and his buds. Finally shut up, didn’t they? I wish I’d been there.”

“I just ached for Tina. Vic’s mom. You know. She was hysterical.”

“Only met her twice, but she’s a good egg. Vic and his buddies leave?”

“They looked almost sober. Stan scared them. He isn’t usually like that. And he wasn’t at all loaded. Just mad. Mad like I never seen anyone. Man or woman.”

“Wow. Just wow. That is a story.”

“I’m done. With them all. I like his mom. But Vic isn’t gonna change.”

“I’m not surprised. But embarrassing for you. You okay?”

“I’m fine. Better than I’ve been for months. I saw what I needed to see. And no, I won't change my mind this time. It's done. I gotta go, but …David, thanks.”

“For not saying ‘I told you so.’?”

“Yes.”

“It never entered my head.”

“I’ll swat you.”

“No, oh nooooo. Don’t hit or do bad stuff!”

“Oh, stop it! I gotta go.”

“You’re welcome, little sis. You’re welcome.”