Frania by Dorota Ponikiewska

FRANIA

Days when the bedding was changed in the house were, for Lena and her cousin Stefek, one of the most interesting of the year. They could freely jump on messy beds, roll in quilts, prowl under the bed in the kitchen and pull straws out of the holes in the mattresses. The day before, Aunt and Grandmother pulled the wooden washtub from the attic, shredded grey soap on a potato grater and brought fresh straw to the hall. The next day, around five in the morning, fire roared in the kitchen stove, and the red-hot iron plate rattled with soap in the pot. Grandmother, as every day, was the first on her feet milking the cows, tossing manure out of the barn and feeding pigs. Around six, the rest of the family dragged out of their beds yawning. Grandmother and Aunt, humming religious songs, stripped the pillows and quilts throwing naked duvets on the floor. Later they hung them on the rounded railing of the fence. Aunt trotted after them with a long stick and smacked their pink feathery bodies. Echos carried thumping sounds into the forest. Meanwhile, Stefek  crawled under the couch in the kitchen, where there were drying  tattered shoes, old field clothes, the remains of broken stools, empty spools, threads, boxes, scraps of leather, straps and other necessities "just in case stuff."  Panting, he blindly groped through the dirty cracks in the floor boards. Sometimes there was something interesting in the dust: coins, candy wrappers, balls of wool, buttons, crumpled pieces of newspapers, empty boxes of shoe polishes, hair clips, and even half-crushed cigarettes. All the treasures wandered into the pocket of his pants, and then, in the attic, after thorough examination, the more valuable ones were stored in the secret box under a thatched roof.     

Lena was too scared to crawl under the bed. All morning she was pulling long straws from holes in the mattress and setting them on the hot stove. She stared without blinking at the smoldering stumps of the dry stems that slowly changed into limply ashen twigs. And when no one was in the kitchen, she opened the stove door to place rolled pieces of paper, dry leaves or tads of old rags on the burning logs.
Aunt and Grandmother having stripped the beds, now were shoving linens into the soapy bath. Every few minutes one of them stirred the wash with a wooden club, which normally was used to mash potatoes for pigs. In the kitchen, sleeping room, stable, barn, and even in the attic you could smell the sweet fragrance of suds, which bubbled and spilled from under the crooked lids and ran down the tub like yellow rivulets, pooled on the hot stove and vaporized into little milky clouds.  Early in the afternoon, just after a meal, Aunt and Grandmother dragged out hot linen   into a wooden tub, and then, after wringing out extra water, packed them in buckets and carried them to the river to rinse.

 Even in the gray autumn and winter days, one could see barefoot women standing knee high in cold water drowning linen in blistering waves of Targoszowski stream. And later, rinsed, white linen hung on clothlines in the orchards. Throughout the afternoon, and sometimes through the night and the next day, white sheets and pillowcases looked like dancing ghosts.
In the evenings, Lena froze at the attic window and stared at the eerie ballet in the garden. Then, after burrowing herself in the hay, she dreamed that the linen ghosts break off the leash and fly over the treetops of the orchard and above the Kapalowa hill, up the cemetery in Krzeszow, where dark clouds had hidden the entrance to heaven.

 One April day, just before Easter, at Grandmother’s home arrived a green van with a Zywiec license plate. People from the nearby houses had already gathered along the uneven path connecting the main road with the village. Before the driver and Wladek managed to get out from the cab, they were all waiting there: Manka, Bania, Bartek, Franek, Jagnyska and Michal. In the silence of contemplation, they watched as Wladek and the driver unloaded from the van a huge cardboard box and carefully carried it to the porch. They could hear the clink of sliding buckets, slamming the hallway door, then squeaks of moved cupboard, and finally a loud crump on a wooden floor. After a few minutes, the driver and Wladek returned to the backyard talking quietly. For a while, both stood at the door of the porch smoking their cigarettes. People standing at the fence could not hear their whispers.Alpha

 Manka, who had to know about everything that was going in the village, was the first one to speak up.   She fixed her kerchief on her head and slowly walked toward Wladek.
- And what did you buy that you had to lease a van to haul it home? – She asked, loudly, so that others could hear it.
Wladek stared down at this small woman standing in front of him and instead of answering, dragged on his cigarette.
- Sure he must have bought a new dresser or a new pickling barrel - Commented Bartek from the stable door.
- No, can’ be Bartek, pickling barrels are sold without boxes.  No one needs a van to bring just a wooden barrel. No way! - said Bania. - It must be something special.  It must be a new chaff-cutter or new cupboard for their sleeping room. Well, Wladek, bring out, what did you get?

Wladek did not answer. He continued smoking, probing the puzzled bystanders with his grey eyes.  Only after his rubber boots had crushed thrown to the ground cigarette, he coughed, spat, aligned his hat on his head and walked up to the crowd.
- I got myself a coffin, just in case…it’s good to have one near-by – He said loudly with seriousness in his voice.
Bartkowa lurched up to the fence and crossed herself fearfully, Bania clenched his fists on the rails, and Michal, who was very religious, swore, quite agitated.
- Damm it, Wladek!  Don’t you make fun of death!  I'm not kidding! It will get you in not time and you be done for good.  Damm you Wladek!  Why do you drag a coffin in to your house, if you are in good shape? Are you stupid or something?
- The vodka must have melted his brain!  Everybody knows what a drunk he is. He drinks vodka every Sunday! - Boldly interjected Manka, but seeing Wladek’s clenched fist, quickly pulled back. Others, who just got here, stood in silence, knocked their fingers on their forehead and shooked their heads angrily.  Seeing their surprised faces, Wladek began to laugh. People listened in silence to his hoarse laughter, which after a few seconds turned into a choking cough, and for a moment it seemed that Wladek would suffocate. His face became red and he looked like someone splashed him with borscht. After a few seconds he collected himself and turned toward the people.
- Goddamned bumpkins – He shouted triumphantly. – Why would I drag a coffin in my house?  I’m strong like a horse!  I am telling you, I got somethin’ that no one has in the entire village!  An will not have for a long time.  Because se you all are doggone good-for-nothin' spongers, with no pot to piss. But look at me! I just bought me an electric washin’ machine. Shit! An’ you dimwits nearly put me in a coffin! 

Wladek announcement made on the neighbors perhaps even more impressed than the news of a coffin and funeral. They stood motionless, staring at theWladek’s red face.  Bania was the first who dared to break the silence.
- Come on, Wladek, stop messin' with us and cough up the truth. What’s goin’ on here?
Wladek firmly grabbed him by the wrist and pulled toward the entrance to the porch.
- If you don’t believe me, just come on in and see for yourself
People, after seeing Bania and Wladek entering the porch, slowly began to approach the house.

 Just at that moment Aunt came into the yard. She was returning from the field where she had been planting potatoes all morning. She walked unsteadily towards her house. She was caring a hoe and a basket full of fresh dandelion for rabbits. She was startled by the sight of people coming in and out of her house, and by the green van parked in front of the porch. She thought that probably her drunken husband Wladek was killed on the road by this van. And now Wladek’s body was hauled inside by neighbors. She dumped the hoe and the basket on the ground and ran into the hallway.
- O my God! O Blessed Mary! – She cried painfully. - Jesus, Mary, what has happened?
Ready for the worst, she pushed herself between people gathered in the hall, but instead of Wladek’s corpse she saw a high, white boiler with a black crank. Her alive and sober husband did not even turn toward her.  He took the plug and plugged into the wall socket.
- What the devil is this? – Asked Aunt, surprised.
-  I bough’ you an electric washer so you would know that I am not a bum- Proudly announced Wladek.  Staggered Aunt grunted reluctantly.
- What do we need this washer for? Come on!  It probably cost a fortune!  What a waste of money!
And at that moment she saw glowing eyes of Bartkowa, Manka, and other women.  They were looking at her with an absolute jealousy! She sighed passively and walked toward the washing machine to look at it closely. On the side of the white boiler she could see small black inscription lettering "Frania."

- Frania - She read out loud. Some people started to laugh.
- Lookin’ this! Lookin’ this!  This washing machine ain’t for Wladek, it is for the ratty widow Franka, who lives across the road! - Shouted Bania. –Someone, get her here, so she can see this craftin’ gizmo named after her!

From that day, for many weeks, Wladek’s "Frania" had become the main topic of all conversations at the country store, at the bus stop, and event at the church. On Sundays, after the morning mass, as usual, the “regulars” gathered at the “Krzeszowianka”  bar.  For hours men discussed Wladek’s purchase .Wladek, like a czar, was sitting among his closest friends, who, without hesitation, bought him vodka or beer.  And he, in return, for the tenth time described virtues of the new washing machine. Soon, the debates about the wonders of “Frania” overtook the life of the village, landed on the market in near-by city, and crossed the county line. 

Everybody talked about “Frania’’ Those who live near-by Wladek praised it to the 6ttttttttttttttgtfrrskies. Manka, during her daily visits at, the country store, hammered over and over.

- I’m telin’ you, this washin’ machine is workin’ fast - she said. – No need to wring the laundry! Just turnin’ the crank and water is rolled out.  One morning and washing is done, piece of cake!

Listening women nodded their heads in understanding. several jealous ones, were chitchatting in the corners that the washing machine wastes a lot of electricity, growls loudly, splits the floor boards, rips holes in the clothes, and, what seemed to be the most important,  cost as much as new sheep or calf.  Besides, where did Wladek get the cash to pay for it?  

Wladek was silent as a grave and never revealed where he got the dough to buy such an expensive washing machine.  So, people began to wonder how he put hands on that money. A lot was said about this. Stories were circulating and among them the most successful were: one that Wladek pawned his farmland, and the second, that Wladek poached trees from the state forest and later sold them to Antek Pazur who started to build a new house.

Aunt became somehow a celebrity. Passing women bowed toward her respectfully, but silently. Only the more courageous teased her by telling that probably in a few months, she will be as rich as the Kaminski family and she would ride to church in a new car.
Aunt flushed waved her hands hearing such words.
-  You talkin’ crap!  Me in a car?  So what that Wladek bought “Frania”?  So what? Ain’t do with nothin’.  Can’t jump onto washin’ machine to tote to church.  You twits!  I’m tellin’ you, only trouble with it, more than gain. Well, Wladek isn’t workin’  at all! He and his mates sit in the house  jabberin’ nonense about the washin’ machine.  Craps, I am tellin’ you! Good-for- nothin’ drunken bastards!

Aunt spoke the truth, because everyday someone was coming to Grandmother home to look at “Frania," to pat her white, cold, aluminum belly, to turn the crank or press the black button and listen the loud hum.

For the first week no one was allowed to use the washing machine standing in the hallway. Stefek and Lena were commanded that under no circumstances should the machine be approached, and now, God forbid, do not touch the black button, which put in a washing machine in motion.
About a week after Easter, Wladek decided it was time for the official first wash. In addition to Aunt, Grandmother, Grandfather, Stefek and Lena, people who observed the first wash were: Bania, Manka, Bartek, Jagnyska, Pulala, Franek, and Kurtabela. In the morning Wladek moved “Frania” to the center of the hall, and set around it five kitchen stools and two empty barrels.  Next, on the dresser covered with a blue bedspread, plates with chunks of sausage, smoked bacon, and uneven slices of bread smeared with lard were placed.  As soon as the viewers took their seats, from nowhere materialized a liter bottle of vodka and one small glass. 

A partaker poured a shot of vodka to a neighbor who thanked by nodding his head than took the glass and swallowed its content with one gulp and polished off  with a tiny piece of meat. Then he filled the empty glass with vodka and served to the next person.  No one was rushing.  One, maybe two hours passed.  When the guests emptied three bottles of vodka and disposed of all the food, Wladek stood up and by raising his hand like a priest at the altar, commanded the crowd to silence.

The whole washing ceremony took place in silence, even Manka who was itching to say something, bit her tongue. Wladek tucked the plug into the wall contact and the machine started to growl.  All heads tilted toward the abyss of grey foaming suds struggling with heavy swells of pillowcases and sheets. A murmur of appreciations sprawled among viewers when after removing the first wash, a second load of dirty laundry was thrown into “Frania.”  At last, the dirty water could be used to wash floors. But the most interesting of all was the dragging of the laundry between two rollers, which removed extra water from the laundered items. Pulala, seeing as one pillowcase swollen with water becomes thin and limp while getting dragged through the rollers, clapped his hands.  He seriously proposed Wladek half a liter of vodka in exchange for the loan of the washing machine for a few hours.
- Give me, Wladek, your “Frania” and these rollers for half a day. I could use them for my wife.  This old hag needs a good wash, and I could drag her buns between these rollers and getin’ rid of the fat on her ass!

Pulala’s bold proposal pleased sitting everyone and probably, at this moment the famous idea of renting “Frania” was born. From that day on, every Saturday morning, someone came to Grandmother’s house to borrow “Frania,”  Following a preliminary discussion with Wladek of loan terms, men carried “Frania” out of the house.

 Lena and Stefek sat by the window in the kitchen and watched the guys, who slowly, avoiding the protruding rocks, were hauling “Frania” down the road.   They were followed by the eyes of the spectators standing alongside the fences.  Some people left their houses to take part in this event and to follow the procession. Women greeted bearers with a loud: "God bless you!”

They, however, focused on the muddy scabs of alley and their posing feet, murmured in return: "And you too, you too," without even lifting up their heads. Only Wladek, who marched after his herd, was turning toward greeters, acknowledging them by nodding his head or pausing to shake hands outstretched over the fences.

For the rent of “Frania” Wladek asked for a half liter of vodka and two-pound jess of sausage or bacon. No one bargained with him because they knew that Wladek was the solely expert on washing machines in the village. Thus, he was always invited to the home of the lender to provide instructions and to run the first wash. Here, too, the company drank the donated half a liter of vodka and then honorably collected money for second bottle. The youngest man in the crowd rode by bike to Krzeszowianka to buy the next bottle of vodka.  For weeks, every Saturday Wladek drank for free, and our family always had a large quantity of sausages and bacon. The idyll lasted only a few months.  By the end of the summer Wladek learned that Martin Gaten called Baryła, who had a house near the country store, brought a washing machine from Bielsko, and was telling people that  he would be lending his “Frania” for a quarter of vodka and two packs of cigarettes. Wladek even wanted to fight him, but somehow it ended with cursing and threats.

Grandmother never wanted to use “Frania”.  Many times Aunt showed her how to turn the machine  on and off, and how, after washing was done, pour out dirty water using a black hose.  Grandmother, however, stubbornly refused to learn.
-Why me touchin’ this gimcrak. If it breaks, who then goin’ fix it. Nothin’ for me to learn anythin’ new before dying. To God it is all the same, whether I knew how to use “Frania” or not. In heaven, you bnot doin’ laundry. Angels wear blue dresses not rags. Better teach the kids! They have young wits and learn fast. Can’ teach old dog new tricks!

Lena without speaking agreed with Grandmother and patiently waited for this day when Aunt let her, or her own, to run “Frania”. Aunt would not to have to show her how it needs to be done, because in the last few months, Lena did not miss a single wash in the village. Every Saturday she slipped out of the house and secretly, so that no one had seen her, followed the procession carrying the washing machine to the neighboring houses. Then, she huddled in the corner and observed the entire washing process. At night, she dreamed that she, and not Uncle Wladek, sit on a soft chair in Bania’s kitchen. Bania treats her with orangeade and apple pie, and then, she tells the assembled neighbors, how to operate “Frania”. She takes a black head plug and connects it to the white outlet on the wall. She presses a button on “Frania’s” belly and then put inside it large white sheets.

The machine starts humming, but instead of the mechanical buzz happy music is played.   On the white linen immersed in the blue water, red peonies blossoming, like the ones flowering at the church yard.  Colorful sheets swirl around and then, like butterflies, started to flee through the open window.

The machine plays louder and louder, people rise up from their stools and begin to dance around “Frania.” Slowly at first, the dance gets faster and faster and after a while all are spinning like a carousel. And Lena in her muddy sandals stands on a soft cushion of chair and claps her hands ...

                                                *

Since Lena moved to the United States, many people died in the village. In letters from her Mother which for years rotted in the basement of her house and which were never read to the end, were meticulous funerals descriptions of the deceased. Lena remembered some of the names, but she could not remember  the faces of those who died. Only in her dreams, in these strange, recurring dreams about a small peasant girl, Lena was able to recall the names of the people from her Mother’s letters. The nightly ghosts usually gathered in Bania house, and they silently assembled around “Frania”.  Nearby, on a chair stood a copper-haired girl holding a big chunk of cake in her hands. In some dreams different people gather around the washing machine, the chair looks somewhat odd, and there was a new cake. But all times in Lena’s dreams there appeared flowering red peonies, lively music, and a large swirling crowd.
One morning Lena woke up very scared. She remembered the yellow orangeade, cake, chair, washing machine, and the gliding swarm of people. But the faces of these people had no eyes, nose or mouth - all of them look like gray balls of dirty snow. The little peasant girl standing on a chair was staring at the crowd, unable to recognize anyone. Terrified, she began to shout at loud their names, but no one turned their head toward her ...

                                                *

In the hall of Grandmother’s house, between the entrance of the porch and the door to the bedroom perched old “Frania.”  It is almost invisible from the heaps of rags, blankets, old bags, empty boxes, and broken toys piled up in its rusty belly. Danka, Stefek’s wife, passing through the hall more than once kicked “Frania’s” sagging belly.
- What the hell should we keep this junk?! Throw it to the trash or move it behind the barn. No use for this rusty cripple, it only blocks the door!
 But Aunt, who for many years did not use “Frania,” defends her machine.
- Yet you do not know what will be in the future. “Frania” does not bother me so it will stand here. Wladek got it for me and put it here in this corner. When I die, you can do what do you want with it.

                                                   *
 In Lena's house in Washington, D.C. there is a large bright entrance hall, with new furniture. At the opening to the living room, rests a semicircular pot with green yucca, and behind it is an empty corner, where for years stood nothing. Lena’s friend, while visiting her ask about the empty place. Lena does not like this question, and tells them that she is waiting for a special shipment from Poland. To more inquisitive questioners she explains that it is a symbolic object with not so much historical but sentimental value. But she never wants to reveal what exactly she is waiting for.

-  You know, she is a complete whacko! - Danka commented on Lena’s idea at the country store. - Why she wants this junk?! If she must take something from the Grandmother house let it be a dishpan for pigs or an old washboard. To ship oversees a rusty washing machine and pay a fortune for the transport. Complete whacko! See, that's the end for those who travel aboard and make too much money. Tellin’ you, you let her, she pulls the spring of your bed and gutters from your roof. You know, she calls them “artifants” or something like that. 

 But Danka does not understand that Lena has had to take “Frania”. Maybe when she sets the washing machine in her "hall" the fading peonies on the white sheets would blossom with bright red flowers, the dying music would pick up its clear tone, and the transparent faces of dancing people would revive and become more lucent. And in the middle of the room, a copper-haired girl will clap her hands and stamp her muddy sandals on the blue cushion of the the chair…..

Literary Evening

Last night we met at Jackie's splendidly decorated  Hounted House. We ate delicious spooky dishes and listened to Dorota talk about her book and Doreen read a chapter from hers.

"Evelina" by Fanny Burney - book review

Frances Burney, born in 1752, was a self-educated novelist and playwright. She was one of six children in a family of a well known music historian Dr Charles Burney and Mrs Esther Sleepe Burney. Frances published “Evelina” anonymously in 1778 at the age of only twenty six.

“Evelina” brought her immediate recognition and fame. In fact Burney’s novels had major influence on writing of Jane Austen and William Makepeace Thackeray.

“Evelina” was written as an epistolary novel. It describes English upper classes as well as middle class society as seen through the eyes of a seventeen -year -old girl. The book is a keen satire on male-centered English society in which a woman is exposed to many forms of male oppression as well as social hypocrisy.

“Evelina” is a legitimate, although unacknowledged daughter of British aristocrat. She is brought up in obscurity of rural seclusion, until a series of fateful events bring her out into the spotlight of London society as well as fashionable resort of Hotwells.

During our discussion of the book we noticed how remarkably sexist and hypocritical British society of late 18^th century was. Evelina had nobody to guide her in London, so she had to learn on her own how to navigate the high society in which she had found herself. We were surprised that her adopted father and protector Villars did not come to her rescue personally when she wrote to him of her struggles and perils in which she found herself. Instead he would send her letters with the words of encouragement and praise. We compared Mr. Smith with Sir Clement and found that they were both unscrupulous although Evelina obviously preferred Sir Clement as more refined and of better breeding. Evelina was partial to Lord Orville whom she met at her first ball and who was the most chivalrous of the men who fell in love with her.

In the end Evelina’s father accepts her for his rightful daughter. Lord Orville proposes marriage and the story ends happily.

In our discussion we also noticed other supporting characters such as Captain Mirvan and Madame Duval. Captain Mirvan was bent on humiliating a hurting Madame Duval. It appeared that the other characters in the story were more or less aware of the elaborate and cruel pranks he was playing on poor Madame Duval yet nobody tried to stop him except for Evelina. Captain Mirvan appears as a heartless and cruel person who took particular dislike to foreigners especially if they were French.

Overall most of us found the book well written and entertaining although some of us thought that language was somewhat trying and not easy to read. We gave it 4.250 stars.