Where the Devil Says Goodnight (Folk Lore #1) - K.A. Merikan Page 0,37

Marek had listened to Emil’s confessions, he likely knew of his sexual transgressions. The wooden chair felt as if it was on fire.

“But still, shouldn’t you take a stand? As the pastor, I mean.”

“I’ve invited him to church many times. He refuses to worship with everyone. In a close-knit community like this one, everyone needs to know their place. People get nervous when others act out of line. I would have intervened if there was any violence, but I can hardly make people enjoy his company, can I?”

When Adam couldn’t find an answer to that other than desperately wanting for Emil to be treated better, the pastor went on.

“And those crows attacking Mrs. Zofia? Terrible business. I’m not saying it’s his doing, but do you not think it’s a strange thing to happen?”

Adam stared. “Are you suggesting Emil wields supernatural powers over crows, Father?”

Pastor Marek spread his arms. “People say that the mountains here are so tall God can’t always see everywhere, and that leaves room for Chort to roam.”

Adam just sat there, surprised to hear jokes like this from a senior clergyman, but Mrs. Janina entered with Mrs. Golonko, the shop owner who’d denied Adam help on his first night in Dybukowo. Dressed in a fine dress accessorized with a patterned silk scarf around her neck, Mrs. Golonko sat by the table without waiting for an invitation, and Mrs. Janina offered her a dessert plate.

“Pastor, you need to do something about Emil Słowik,” she said in a harsh voice and shook her manicured finger at Father Marek, who chewed the chocolate cake, unfazed by her rudeness.

“What is it this time?” tore from Adam’s lips before he could have stopped himself, and the woman’s eyes settled on him in silence that told Adam she considered him barely competent to breathe, let alone lead God’s flock.

In the end, she granted him an answer. “He is once again up to ungodly work.”

Mrs. Janina nodded. She must have been filled in on this back in the corridor.

Adam felt dizzy. “Prostitution?” he whispered, and the table went silent.

“What?” Mrs. Golonko stared back at him. “No! He’s fortune telling!”

Adam stuffed his lips full of the cake so that no one would even consider asking him what train of thought made him associate Emil with selling sex, but Father Marek was as laid back as usual.

“Is that all? I thought he’s out there skinning cats alive.”

Mrs. Golonko’s lungs filled so fast it left her chest comically pushed out. “How can you be so dismissive of this, Father? What he’s doing is not only sinful. It’s also fraud! I only found out because two of my friends asked if I could introduce them to the Oracle of Dybukowo, since I’m his neighbor! Can you imagine what kind of infamy this might bring on our village?”

Apparently, in the world of divination, personal connections were as crucial as in the search for the right plastic surgeon, but Adam didn’t voice those thoughts, because their guest would have taken offense. And denied ever getting any ‘work’ done.

Mrs. Janina nodded, pacing around in her floral house dress, with a stern expression. “I agree. This issue must be addressed,” she said, as if Emil’s life choices were up to her or anyone else in the room.

“Ladies, I’m a priest, not an inquisitor,” Father Marek said as he took a second slice of the cake. “The only thing I could do is advise him against doing such things, but none of us can stop him, whether we like it or not.”

“Of course we need to stop him,” Mrs. Golonko said, pulling out a pack of cigarettes.

Adam wanted to stop her, but seeing that no one else reacted, he resigned himself to the prospect of smoke soaking into his cassock. Curious how cigarettes smelled so good on Emil and yet so revolting on anyone else.

He glanced at the cake on his plate and wondered how a cake infused with the smoke and wood of Emil’s scent would have tasted. His thoughts once more drifted to the most sinful confession he’d ever heard, and his mouth went dry as he imagined being in the place of Emil’s lover.

“I am visiting the pastor of Belkowice tonight, so I’ll have to be on my way soon. Besides, Father Adam is closer to Emil in age. Maybe he can talk some sense into the man,” Pastor Marek suggested, ripping Adam out of his depraved fantasies.

“M-me?”

Mrs. Janina harrumphed. “Are you afraid of him now? I’m sure his crows won’t