To My Dearest Roseanne- Chapter 31
"Take your feet off my dashboard, you monkey!"
The shift manager looked at Robert in shock and did as he was told. Robert entered the cabin.
"This was my last shipment, I swear to God. I had to roll this truck uphill for five hours straight just to get to Gubałówka. Why the hell did you need shipment out here anyway?"
"We ran out of beer," the manager said sifting through papers, "Sign here and here."
"You don't even have a tourist season yet," said Robert, placing his signature.
"In Zakopane, there's tourist season all year round. You coming back now?"
"No, I have an obligatory nine-hour pause before I can drive back."
"So I guess you're stuck here for the evening. Have a good one, boy," the manager stepped off the cabin, made sure that the unloading was completed, and slammed the door shut.
Dirty monkey from the mountains, Robert thought, wiping his dashboard with a handkerchief and anti-bacterial spray.
***
He never anticipated that the last ride of his monthly term would take him to Zakopane of all places. There was only home on his mind, to which he wanted to come back as soon as possible. He was at his wits' end, and daily calls with Liz were not enough.
It took him an additional hour of circling around the small town to find a free spot for his truck. For one minute, he considered going to bed in the cabin immediately, but upon further thought, he decided to get some fresh air.
Robert closed his truck and began strolling leisurely towards the downtown. The outskirts of the city were dark and empty, but as he approached the city centre, he encountered wider waves of people amassing by the stylish high-street stores and restaurants made out of wood. The architecture of Zakopane was quite unique indeed with its two-storey buildings and sloping roofs, but it didn't impress Robert.
Far in the distance, he saw the silhouettes of mountains basking in the setting sun. The summit of Giewont, the most fearsome giant of all, stuck out like a sharp claw ready to attack any mortal who dared to approach it. This reminded Robert about his past visits to Zakopane.
When he was a child, his paternal grandparents took him to Zakopane and told him about the legend of a knight buried under a giant cross on Giewont. This fired Robert's imagination, propelling his desire to traverse the deadly mountain and reach its summit, to see the knight's grave for himself, but the grandparents told him the mountains were off-limits. Instead, he was ordered to learn how to ski.
He absolutely hated skiing. The shoes were uncomfortable and it was too damn cold. But the grandparents forced him to ski all day long because this was their favourite pastime. In consequence, he got the flu and it took him weeks to recover at home under the guidance of his mother.
A year later, the grandparents wanted to take him for another skiing session from hell, but the mother objected. The child missed winter break in consequence. She made it up to Robert by taking him to Zakopane in the summer, and he finally hiked all the way to Giewont.
Robert came back to Zakopane a few more times, but he vividly remembers the trip organised by the primary school he attended. It was just a year away from his graduation. All the participants were interested in skiing during the day and smoking weed at night. Sometimes, the smoke was so thick in a motel that Robert would get high just from breathing.
But some teachers did organise a few hiking excursions. He remembered taking part in a trip to Murowaniec, which was no small feat in the middle of the winter. The small group Robert was a part of was making its way through knee-deep snow. Getting through a forest level wasn't that difficult, but when it came to battling snow and ice on the barren, exposed slopes, everybody was on their last legs.
Halfway through, when the sharp traverse uphill was finally over, the group had some rest. Robert sat in the snow, trying to catch his breath while admiring the wonderful view of white mountains and valleys basking in the morning sunlight. At least the weather wasn't against them.
He clearly remembered that he took out a Nestea bottle to have a drink when suddenly he heard a voice behind him.
"Excuse me? May I have a sip, too?"
In other circumstances, Robert would have scoffed at the request. He wasn't keen on sharing, and besides, he wasn't a connoisseur of having other people's saliva on a cap. However, he was so worn out that he passed the bottle without any fuss.
"Thanks!"
It turned out to be a girl, a green-eyed blonde with a thin face. She was his age but attended a different class. Robert knew her by sight, yet they hadn't interacted so far.
After taking a sip, then one more, and another one, the girl eventually gave the bottle back. Robert made sure to wipe the cap with his sleeve.
At that point of the interaction, when somebody wanted something out of Robert, they usually left, but the girl stayed in the same heap of snow as him and the two enjoyed an idle conversation about the mountains, the views, and the weather. Robert didn't suffer from social anxiety, but he considered himself to be an introvert when he was a teenager, so it was all the more exotic for him to have a casual chat. He had to really focus to avoid making awkward pauses of silence.
"It's really beautiful today, isn't it?" the girl asked.
"Yes, it is. The weather is quite unpredictable in the Tatra Mountains," he said.
"Once, a snake bit my aunt in the leg when she was in a valley and they had to call the mountain rescue. A helicopter took her to a hospital."
"Oh, really? Was it venomous?"
"Nah, just a standard smooth snake."
"She couldn't make it to the city on her own?"
"Well, she was too terrified."
Little did Robert know, he would go on to have more conversations with the girl during the winter camp. On hikes, in ski inns, and in the comfort of their hotel rooms, they used to talk about their favourite movies, books, and music. She even had a cassette tape of Laura Brannigan, but the only place they could listen to it was in the hotel's playroom.
Their conversations continued on at school, but as the year progressed these were far and few between. The two had to study for an end-of-grade test, the points of which would determine their future high school.
After graduation and obtaining the test results, their paths parted for good. The girl's family moved out of town up north. They sent holiday cards to each other, briefly touching base, but even this method of communication quickly died out.
Throughout high school, Robert felt that he had lost a friend, a person to whom he talked without stress about anything and who wouldn't judge him. He was desperate to find somebody like that girl around him but it was a fool's errand.
As Robert matured, he began to resent his introverted nature. A strong conviction formed in his stomach like a huge, sticky pulp of paper blocking the digestive tract that maybe if he had been more confident, more outgoing, he still could have been with that girl. And maybe a friend would become his girlfriend? There must have been a reason she talked to him on that snowy ridge.
The spiral of overthinking only made Robert boil with regret and self-contempt. In order to prove he didn't stand out from the crowd, he engaged in a relationship with a high school classmate. That girl, short, dark-haired, and with a nose like a hawk, was the epitome of a narcissist and a pathological liar. In a matter of weeks, Robert's existence turned into misery as she displayed him around school like some sort of personal trophy. On top of that, he could never satisfy her vanity or live up to her toxic standards. Her annoying nasal voice would haunt him like a shriek of the undead from beyond the grave. He woke up in the middle of the night terrified at the possibility of hearing this voice over and over again for the rest of his life.
This short-lived, yet incredibly traumatic experience made Robert switch to a vocational school. He managed to escape the web of the dark-haired monster, but this encounter made him scarred inside. He thought he was going to stay alone on the surface of this planet forever.
However, one sunny day, as he was having his driving practice in a truck, he saw a woman crossing the zebra. She looked nice and cheerful, her brown eyes were emphasised by the plentiful wave of equally brown hair. He used to see her every day at that crossing at a specific time. Evidently, this wasn't the love at first sight, but the woman functioned like a warm blanket that soothed Robert's eyes. Each day, he rushed in his truck to that crossing just to be there on time for her, just to see her again. To imagine how life could be with her.
The idyllic admiration came crashing down like a plane with busted engines when he saw her at the crossing holding hands with a boy.
The embarrassment weighed down on his neck so hard that his forehead touched the horn. Everybody on the street looked at him in an instant, including the cute woman. Robert didn't dare to look back at her. He just stared in front of the windshield, waiting for the lights to change.
From that moment on, he made sure to stay away from that crossing whenever he was in the vicinity.
***
The stream of reminiscence turned into a stream of water running rhythmically under a bridge. Robert smiled. The unexpected stopover in the mountains brought back many memories. Although many of them weren't positive, he cherished all of them because all his experiences, all his choices led him to meeting Liz, his wife, his beacon of light. And it happened not on a bridge, but on a pier in Gdynia when he was in his late 20s.
He sat on a bench by the sea.
She sat on a bench by the sea.
The old wood crackled and the bench broke.
The rest was history.
Robert hoped to bring Roseanne to that pier someday once she found her own significant other. And even if she doesn't find anybody, he will bring her there anyway. She should know his story, and she should cherish what she has in life, whatever small advantages they are.
***
As Robert was making his way back through the city centre, a man in a polar bear suit got in his way.
"Hello there, would you like to take a picture?" the bear asked.
"No, thanks," Robert said.
"You still have to pay 50 Po coins because you are taking pictures of the city centre."
"What the hell? I'm not taking any pictures. I don't even have my phone out. Besides, this is a public space. Anyone can take pictures free of any charge."
"You're right about one thing, mister! It's a public space, which belongs to the locals. I'm a representative of the local community, so I'm entitled to collect 50 Po coins from each tourist."
"Move over or I'll call the cops."
"Pay up."
"Oh, you want me to pay up? I'll pay up good."
Robert punched the scammer in the stomach so hard that he rolled like a carpet.
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