The cursed wine - private with Little-girl-Olivia

[didba59]

Background

Character list:

Andrej Doležal (54) – a small vineyard owner. He runs a small business for tourists and visitors, offering his wine in the wine cellar. Tasting the wine is the local habit, and many people try out too many samples before buying.

Besides the standard offer, there are a few bottles of old wines on the shelves in the back room. Andrej even doesn’t remember who he got them from and when. The dusty bottles can hide secrets.

Peter Bartoš (40) – a forest worker. He is a nice but very little educated man. He works every day from dawn to dusk and often spends the evening in the local inn even if he doesn’t drink too much. He uses talking with his neighbors there.

Magda Bartošová (35) – Peter’s wife, a sweet and lovely woman but as little educated as her husband. She occasionally works on the local farm; she tends to cattle there. She loves children, but she could have only a single son. After labor, her womb was damaged.

Milan Bartoš (16) – Peter’s and Magda’s son. He attends elementary school, but he is not too motivated to learn, seeing his parents. Anyway, he has learned a bit English. Otherwise, he is a nice boy.

Marek Mlynár (58) – an elderly police officer, thinking more of his retirement than of his duties. Fortunately, he is not very busy, the village is quiet and peaceful. Despite his effort, he usually fails, but nobody minds it, the villagers shrug and sigh only.

Scene:

Horné Bukovany – a small village at the foot of small mountains. Vineyards spread up the hills, and the area is known for quality wine. However, there are old rumors about mysterious vine with magic properties, but nobody know if they are true and nobody has found that mysterious plant.

Horné Bukovany doesn’t differ from other nearby villages. There is a single main street there, framed by houses. A small church is placed in the center of the village, along with the local inn, mayor office with a tiny one-man police station and a small elementary school; however, the older children above the 4^th grade must travel to the nearby town Bozinok.

Most villagers work at the local farm or sawmill. The work is hard and not well paid, but they don’t have many other options left. Gardens, chickens, and rabbits provide them with extra food. There are few vineyard owners there that offer wine to locals, visitors and occasional tourists that wander to the village by mistake.

[Little_Girl_Olivia]

I'd heard the expression 'to go off the beaten path' and it fairly attributed to me by others, most notably in a citation from one of my undergraduate tutors for a novel dissertation which had been merited and included in a magazine highlighting up and coming student projects. However, on this particular occasion, I found myself literally walking off the beaten path, and that's where all my problems began.

The detour on my whistle-stop tour of Europe wasn't planned. Technically it was detour from an detour, as my original intention to travel by rail through Slovakia and onwards into Hungry had been delayed and then frustratingly cancelled. The travel company I was using had helpfully proposed alternative bus routes but it was less direct and involved stopping off in towns to transfer bus and continue on the route.  The latest bus trip had terminated in the town of Bozinok, which was remote enough that I was told I'd have wait until the next morning  for the onward connection to take me across the border. Sorting out accommodation in a budget hotel was easy enough with the help of google translating webpages for me and no actual requirement for me to have to speak in Slovak to anyone in order to arrange the booking... In hindsight, not showing my face at the hotel was a mistake but I was travelling relatively lightly, so I had no actual need to drop any bags or anything at the hotel that morning... Instead I'd milled around the town a bit, ordered some breakfast in a local cafe, explored the local attraction, a ruined monastery and then by almost chance I'd come across a brochure for a local winery, advertised in the window of an off-license. Again, I used my phone and google to translate the text and I realised that the vineyard itself was located in a village nearby. It was walking distance, in fact, given that I had the time to kill. So I purchased some bottled water for the hike from the local supermarket and walked out of Bozinok following a road bounded by fields for miles and miles.

My legs were aching by the time I reached the village of Horné Bukovany, particularly as the flat countryside had given way to a climbing hills and at I'd left the smooth road for more provincial one of crushed stone and seldom traffic. The broad flat leaves of the vines snaking between their wires was the first hint I was arriving in the right place, and the site of terracotta tiled roofs above the foliage seemed to push down the exhaustion I was feeling to give way to excitement and a sense of adventure. I was essentially nowhere. I  was like the little man or pin on the google maps app, plopped down into some random place. I knew nothing about this place other than that it advertised a winery and it wasn't a stop off along any route that I'd planned when considering my trip. So, i was left feeling genuinely excited by what surprises the village had to offer, confident that i could spend an hour or so, before I headed back the way I'd come to get back to the hotel in Bozinok before dark.

Upon reaching the single road which ran through the village it became apparent the place was soo small that I'd been optimistic about spending a couple of hours here. A quarter of an hour, would probably do it. It looked like one of those places getting left behind by the changing times. The kind of place that young people got out of as soon as they could, escaping for the excitement and modernity of the cities, leaving the elderly and local traditions behind. The quaintness had a charm to it. I figured that I wouldn't have experienced such a place had I not been delayed and detoured.

On a positive note, the winery wasn't hard to find without having to consult signage. It was the largest building in the place, not counting the church, and arguably one which showed someone had a bit of cash to spend. It looked like there were new triple glazed windows. 

I let myself into the winery yard and looked around for signs of life, or perhaps an obvious entrance to a tasting hall.

"Dobrý deň" I called out, having learned the phrase from an ill studied phrase book picked up at the train station, but the 'ee' had more of an 'ey' sound and the 'ny' was more like a 'en'.  "Pre-pack-teh?" I called out, attempting to get attention by saying 'Prepáčte' but ignoring the accents as I wasn't used to them.

[didba59]

Andrej:

I was working since the early morning like I always was. The work of a winemaker is a hard one. I had to tend to my vineyards since spring, watch them and finally harvest the grapes. However, it was not the end of the never-ending work. However, I liked that work and considered it almost a mission. Looking at the vineyards, healthy and spreading up the hills, and tasting the wine made my heart jump every year.

My wine was famous in the widespread area; many customers came to me and ordered wine for events like weddings, graduations or even funeral feasts. My business was blooming.

Anyway, a question kept hunting me. There were a few bottles in the back room, old and dusty. I didn’t know anything about them. My grandfather had told me about some mystery, but he passed away long ago, and the mystery persisted. According to the old rumors, there was a strange grape variety with unique features. Were the old and dusty bottles filled with wine made of that variety? I didn’t know.

All of sudden, a man entered my yard. He looked like somebody who lost his way. He definitely wasn’t a local, and he tried to greet me in Slovak. I smiled at him when he tried to apologize. I didn’t have any idea about him, and I also didn’t speak any other language than Slovak.

“Vitajte u nás. Vy asi chcete kúpiť nejaké víno. To ste prišli na správne miesto a verím, že neodídete naprázdno. Poďte prosím ďalej,” I gestured at him and pointed at the stairwell leading down to my wine cellar.

[Little_Girl_Olivia]

By chance I happened to bump into the owner of the winery and my face brightened, relieved to find that my trek out here wasn't going to turn out to be a wasted journey, fearing the vineyard could be shut. Indeed it was a common enough mistake amongst tourists visiting my native France, not to be aware that some rural areas particularly, there were no such things a fixed opening and closing times, with the local consumers simply becoming familar with the habits local shopkeepers regarding what hours they choose to keep. The only constant seemed to be bread. You always rose early if you wanted quality fresh bread or you went to supermarket later and bought the second rate commercial stuff. 

My relief at having encountered another human being quickly faltterd as we realised we didn't seem to understand one another. I lamely felt in a pocket for my tiny phrase book but I felt ill equipped for the quickly spoken string of Slovak words the man had greeted me with. In the end I didn't even bother taking the book out of my pocket. 

The man helpfully gestured to a cellar and I understood immediately.

"Oui. Très bien." I praised the gentleman as I followed him down some stone steps into the gloom. I was a tall man and broad in my shoulders, so I found myself having to stoop to avoid the vaulted ceiling until I was seated. 

"Ah. Merci." I thanked the man as I was shown to the table and then I remembered that ought to be trying to speak Slovak, so I fished out my pocket phrase book and set it on thr table in front of me, flicking through the pages. 

"Ďakujem..." my finger followed down the page "Volám sa Joseph Jerome" although my name had a direct Slovak equvilant, spelt the same, my accent might have made it sound unfamiliar. "Vino... Prosim." I smiled and then looked pointedly at the bottles resting on the racks and the caskets ageing. 

[didba59]

Andrej:

"Rád vás poznávam, som Andrej Doležal," I introduced myself politely; I was amused by his effort to show me the words. Of course, he wanted wine. However, there was a harder task ahead. I should tell him to taste the wines and pick some of them.

“Poďte prosím so mnou a ochutnajte moje vína,” I said friendly, took a glass and passed it to him. I led him along the shelves where I stored the samples and showed him the variety.

“Toto je veltlín … tramín … rizling” I poured the samples into the glass and let him taste.

As we passed the shelves, I stopped and turned to him; hopefully he would understand me.

“Vybrali ste si? Budem rád, ak oceníte moje produkty,” I asked him and waited for his reaction. His face seemed to be unreadable. I realized he was from France, and French wines were known by their quality. I knew that our wines probably wouldn’t reach that level because of the climate difference. The French vineyards got much more sunlight.

[Little_Girl_Olivia]

“Andrej…” I repeated, nodding and grinned uncertainly. I hadn’t understood the sentence, but I’d picked up on the name at very least. However, I understood it by the French pronunciation ‘André’, the accent on the end was different in Slovak. I became a little tense as it occurred to me that if pronunciations were quite different sounding even where we shared words that were the same, then I was really going the struggle attempting to communicate. I settled back in the chair and brushed off my worries. The language barrier needn’t be too much of a problem. I already had my hotel booked this evening back in the neighbouring town and my bus tickets all arranged for onward travel. If I got really stuck, I could always use my phone and the google translate App, but that did seem very adventurous. Sometimes it was fun to be a little lost, with safety nets in place of course.

Walking with Andrej with a glass in hand I felt more confident now that the tasting was underway and pretty much all I was expected to do was sample delicious local wines. Unfortunately, the regional wines on offer, were not quite to my taste. Naturally my palette had developed tasting French wines growing up. To me the veltlin tasted like a poor sauvignon blanc, I was expecting the fruity notes of the sauvignon along side the dryness but the Slovak wine was somewhat more earthy. The dry wine left a nice crispness in my mouth after finishing the glass, I had to admit that at least for its quality, but its overall taste was a little duller than I’d anticipated.  

“Oh. Très bein.” I complimented after tasting the second wine. It had a lot more body, reminding me of a pinot gris. I finished that second glass more greedily. I would buy that wine for a dinner party perhaps but I didn’t think it quite merited being purchased as a gift to mark a special occasion.

“Rizling?” I remarked with a note of disappointment as we came to the last wine. I knew it as a German or Austrian wine, imported to supermarket shelves. Andrej wouldn’t have been aware that my experience of drinking Rizling was as an easy-to-drink cheap wine for nights in sitting at home watching some nonsense on TV. I thought of it as almost watery, but good for getting very drunk, very quickly without the heaviness and bitterness of drinking spirits. I hesitantly lifted the offered glass to my lips optimistic that perhaps this local vintage would subvert my expectations. It was better than supermarket stuff, but it wasn’t good enough to change my mind about Rizling’s place at the table. I handed the empty glass back and I was a little rudely expectant that I would be shown along to another, better, wine.

Instead, Andrej spoke and I realised after an expectant pause that it was a question. I assumed the nature of the question was my thoughts following my tasting of the product.

“Vous vouliez me parler du vin ? Eh bien… je peux dire que j’ai apprécié le deuxième. Cependant, pour être honnête, je n’ai pas vraiment aimé les deux autres. Je vois bien que ce sont tous des vins de qualité, je n’en doute pas, mais leur saveur ne correspond pas à ce que je recherche. Excusez-moi, ça paraît un peu dur, mais je pense que c’est parce que je suis habituée aux vins français. Mon palais n’est pas encore adapté aux vôtres, vous comprenez ?”

A look of non-comprehension from Andrej told me that my frank and honest appraisal had gone comprehended. I stroked my beard. I had to resort to the phrase book and kept things simple. I pointed to the second wine. “dobrý vina.” And then the other two. “zlý vina.” This was a harsher statement that I intended but I simply didn’t have the words to express myself properly.

Feeling dissatisfied that the wine tasting had ended on a sour note, I looked around to see if anything else was on offer. There looked to be some undisturbed wines towards the back. Either not a local favourite, which might suit my tastes, or perhaps something set aside specially, an indication of good quality.

“Et ces bouteilles de vin sur l'étagère là-bas ? Je pourrais en goûter une ?” I nodded my head towards the shelves at the rear. “prosím?” I added in Slovak, my expression softening.

[didba59]

Andrej:

Joseph accepted my offer and tasted the wines offered. I kept watching his reaction. They were as expected. After tasting the last sample, he turned to me and spoke.

I listened to him and tried to guess what he wanted to tell me, but I wasn’t able to understand a single word. The sounds were unfamiliar to me. All I knew it was French. I sighed only and tried to react, even fi he didn’t understand me just like I didn’t understand him.

“Prepokladám, že nie ste veľmi spokojný s mojou poukou, pane. Naše vína môžu ťažko konkurovať tým vašim, ale ja sa snažím po celý život dopestovať dobrý vinič a vyrobiť kvalitné víno.

He took his phrase book and tried to reply in a simple way. I could have been offended by the comment on bad wine, but I was not; he probably would have answered more politely if the language barrier didn’t exist. The damn barrier! I wished I could talk with him about wine and learn more.

Suddenly, he pointed at the back part with the old and dusty bottles. My eyes went wide at first, but I nodded if he asked me politely; he seemed to have learned that word already.

I walked over and fetched one of the bottles. When I cleaned the dust, I could read the label “Tokai”. It was surprising.

“Nech sa páči, pozrite si prosím,” I passed the bottle to him and waited for his reaction. However, I got a strange feeling but couldn’t decipher it.

“Špeciálne pre vás,” I wrote “15€” on a piece od paper.

[Little_Girl_Olivia]

My eyes lit up as dusty was wiped away from the bottle to reveal it was a Tokai. I recognised it as a wine I enjoyed to order in a restaurant on occasion. I had been endeared to the amber wine before I'd ever even had the opportunity to sample it because it had appeared in a book I'd once read and so I thought of it as exotic and luxurious. To stumble upon a bottle of local Tokai was a pleasant surprise, in my ignorance I had thought this variety was only produced in neighbouring Hungary. 

 

In my excitement I wouldn't have said no to anything less than 70€ for the bottle but at the bargain price offered by Andrej I really couldn't pass it up. From my wallet I counted our 30€ and held up two fingers to request Andrej sell me an extra bottle. Since he evidently didn't have any open or on cask that I could sample, I wanted one to take home with me and a souvenir of this odd detour on my trip, and a second to open myself and try it right now.

 

"Merci." I thanked him and the thought to look in my phrase book one last time. "dakujem" I said and recalled that I'd already spoken that work earlier. It should be easy to remember. "Dakujem." I repeated again in a friendly manner as I exited the cellar. Andrej hadn't made a lot of money today but he could claim to have a satisfied customer.

 

It was easy to find the road out of the village again, even tipsy! Since there was only one passing through it. I simply walked the way I'd come. After leaving the village behind me and enjoying the shade of trees which flanked the road along the current stretch, I took the notion it was time to stop for a rest and sample the spare bottle of wine I'd purchased rather than waiting to get back to my hotel. Since the road side itself didn't over much of a view and the overgrown verges weren't suitable to sit down at, I wondered a little way up one of the forest trails leading up the hill until a found a bit of a clearing and a suitable stumb to sit down on.

 

The wine tasted amazing! I instantly felt regret that I hadn't opened the bottle with Andrej so that I could shower him with compliments he deserved. The wine was so good in fact that I quickly drank a lot more than I had intended to and promptly found myself drunk, laughing giddily at my own foolishness as I felt myself teetering on the tree stump. Unwisely, I stood up, thinking that I might feel more steady if I was on my feet. I was wrong, the forest started to spin unsettlingly around me. Gathering my rucksack and just holding the half empty wine bottle because even in my drunk state I knew better than to litter, I lurched unsteadily back in the direction I thought the road was in, feeling like I wanted to leave the forest.

 

"Putain" I mumbled to myself, starting to feel ill, like a hangover was already creeping up on me. Perhaps the old wine was poison, despite how good it tasted. 

 

My heart started to pound as my vision blurred. My skin felt itchy and my clothes and bag felt heavier on achy muscles. Was I developing a sudden fever? The sense of urgency to reach the road increased.

My trousers were starting to fall down. I had to pull them up. Had my belt come loose? As I pulled at my trousers the cuffs of my sleeves seemed to get in the way, as if my shirt and jacket were oversized for me. I quickened my pace to a run in my panic, only for a hiking boot to slip off on my foot.

Cursing again, I hopped around on one foot to retrieve it, but now I tripped myself up on seemingly over baggy trousers.

The fall was one such that I was on ground before I’d even realised. My body had reacted by throwing my hands out and loosing grip of the wine bottle I’d been holding onto. A disconcerting cracking sound told me that the second bottle I’d been saving in my backpack had broken under me in the fall.

I knew I was supposed to get up, but the dizziness felt better on the ground. In my stupor, I simply lay where I’d fallen and allowed myself to fall asleep, like the dumbest tourist on earth!

…

It would be a woodsman that eventually found me. I happened to be on one of his trials. However, what the woodsman found was not the French man who had walked into the village earlier that day and bought two bottles of mysterious wine, but a girl, a teenager around the same age as his son…

[didba59]

Peter:

I was walking home after my shift in the forest. All the machinery stayed back in the place where we had worked. I was tired and thirsty and looking forward to the beer. Magda never forgot to put one into the fridge. She was very nice and knew I wouldn’t drink too much. To be honest, I was an outsider, never sitting in the inn and drinking until deep night. I preferred to take care of my family. I was a little worried about my son Milan that was not very diligent at school. I tried to explain him that education was important, but he snapped back, “daddy, which school did you need to cut down trees?”

All of sudden, I spotted a figure lying on the ground. At first, I thought it would be a man form our village, drunk as usual. It wasn’t a rare image, and I spotted a bottle sitting on the ground next to him. However, I noticed something was wrong with the man. His clothes were apparently oversized. I came closer, leaned down, smelled the wine, but my eyes went wide when I spotted the hair and breasts beneath the oversized shirt. It was a young girl wearing oversized male clothes. She was lying on her back, and there was a backpack beneath her.

I rubbed my eyes and pinched my hand to be sure I wasn’t dreaming. I also wasn’t drunk. ‘Peter, what the hell are you seeing here?’ I asked myself quietly. I shook my head and lifted the girl in my arms. Whoever she was, I couldn’t leave her there. I stepped forward and continued my journey home.

“Magda, open please,” I called my wife. As she opened the door, she stared at me wide-eyed.

“Who is this? Where did you find her?” she stepped back and let me in.

“No idea who she is. I’ve found her on the forest path. She is drunk and out cold,” I carried her to the small guest room and laid her down onto an old blanket on the couch.

“Let’s wait until she wakes up,” I told to Magda and took the backpack. It was wet, and there was a broken wine bottle inside. I also brought the second bottle with me.

“Hey, these are bottles from Andrej,” the finding hit me like a physical blow.

I took the backpack and put it into the hall and waited.

[Little_Girl_Olivia]

 

I slept deeply and dreamlessly all through the afternoon. I slept as the long shadows were being cast by a fading sunset. I slept as Magda left Peter alone to watch me so that she could prepare supper and explain the situation to her son. I slept as Peter ate his dinner at my side, watching me, and later he drank cold beer there too. I slept as the portion of supper set aside for me grew cold. I slept as the night settled in and Magda brought blankets to cover me as the house grew cool. I slept as the lights were turn off and the front door was checked. I slept through the night as I was watched over and the kind couple began to wonder if they should call a doctor in the event that I didn't wake up the following day.

The following day, in the morning, I did wake up. It was the loud cry of a cockerel which seemed to do it, a farmyard sound that I wasn't used to.

 

I thought I must still be laying on the forest floor but upon opening my eyes I could see I was in the presence of two strangers and that I appeared to be in a bedroom. I surmised that strangers had found me and kindly brought me inside, although I had no recollection of this. I felt intrusive to find myself in someone's home and embarrassed that my drunkenness had lead to this awkward situation.

 

"Où suis-je ?" I asked and abrupted stopped my questioning, wearing a confused expression because my voice didn't should like my own. It was several octaves lower than it should be. I cleared my throat. "Qui êtes-vous ?" I tried again and my eyes widened in shock as I realised I that I sounded like a girl. “Pourquoi est-ce que j'ai une voix de fille ?” I blurted out in a panic but it was clear that the concerned strangers couldn’t understand me and so they couldn’t offer an explanation.

I felt my head to inspect for bumps, fearing that I must have hit it during the fall and I was suffering the odd side effects of a concussion. I found no bumps but it did feel like my hair was much longer than it should have been. My hand followed the tresses down from the crown of my head, down to my shoulders and then, turning my head, I could see that I had long hair flowing past my shoulders even. The hair was blond, like my sister’s, my own hair was dark brown like my Dad’s. I held strands of it out in front of my face, inspected it with a baffled expression. “C'est quoi ce bordel ?” I muttered to myself.

I shifted in the bed and sat up right. Blankets which had hither-to been covering me, fell away and I got my first glimpse of the transformed body which had laid beneath. The first thing I noticed was how fine my hands looked and there was no hair on them. Then I noticed how baggy my clothes were. The fact that I recognised that they were my own clothes was a relief, it was something tangible about my identity which showed me I was still who I thought I was, and that I wasn’t in the midst of some weird dream. However, these clothes had fit me yesterday and now they were practically hanging off me. They were so baggy in fact that I could look down the gaping collar of my shirt and see my chest, where it looked like I had boobs.

“Oh mon Dieu!” I cried out in alarm and threw myself out of the bed, awkwardly shuffling in my oversized clothes until I came to a mirror.

For a moment I thought I was looking at my own sister, like how she looked when she was younger but the more I studied the reflection the more I noticed my own features in the unfamiliar face. My green eyes were there. My nose shape was there, but smaller and more button-like. I touched my cheeks and the side of my face. There was no beard, or even a stubble but of course there wasn’t. The person I was looking at was clearly a teenage girl, not a man. “Je suis une fille ?” I said to myself in almost a whisper, stunned as I came to acceptance that as impossible as it sounded, the girl I was looking at in the mirror, was indeed me.

I didn’t understand how something like this could happen and it didn’t feel fair. I hadn’t asked for this. I felt hot tears starting to roll down my face and I turned away from the mirror, crying in self-pity and scared of the bizarre situation I’d found myself in.

[didba59]

Peter:

The girl didn’t wake up; she apparently had drunk too much wine. I considered calling an ambulance, but I refused that idea. She would be neither the first one nor the last one getting drunk in our village even if she was a teenage girl. I was quite sure she would wake up later, have a terrible headache and hangover but nothing more. Anyway, the bottles made me ask Andrej if he knew something more.

“Hi, Andrej,” I entered his yard and found him outside, “did you sell some of the old wines today? I’ve found two bottles.”

“Yeah, I did,” he replied. “A strange man appeared here, he probably was a French. He wasn’t enthusiastic about my usual offer but pointed at the old bottles and insisted on purchasing them. Why are you asking me? Did you see him?”

“Andrej, I don’t know how to explain it. I found a teenage girl in oversized male clothes, drunk and out cold. She had the bottles with her. Now she is asleep in our house.”

“WHAT!” he was staring at me wide-eyed, “Oh no! Remember the old rumors about magic wine. It is true then; it has happened indeed.”

“What will we do?” a cold chill  ran down my spine.

“Let’s wait, Peter. When she wakes up, we can try to handle this … situation.”

I sighed heavily and left for home. The girl was still asleep. I went to bed and the next morning I left for work. Magda stayed at home and Milan would leave for school later.

Magda:

I prepared dinner and carried a plate to the guest room, but the girl still was asleep. Before going to bed, I checked her once more, but she still didn’t wake up. Peter returned from Andrej and told me the unbelievable story. I and Milan listened to him in utter shock.

In the morning, I got up early, took care of the hens and returned to the guest room; Milan was sitting there already.

The girl opened her eyes, but her reaction was surprising. However, I recalled Peter’s words the day before and realized she didn’t know what had happened. I watched her quietly and tried to imagine myself in her shoes. We couldn’t understand her words, but the tone was unmistakable – a total shock about her gender change.

My motherly instinct made me to walk over to her slowly and calm her down, “poď, pomôžeme ti, tu si v bezpečí. Nájdeme niečo na oblečenie a dáš si raňajky.” I put my hand to her shoulder tenderly and turned to Milan, “prosím ťa, požičaj jej nejaké tričko a tepláky.”

Milan:

I was excited and curious when I spotted the girl. She looked pretty even if her drunk condition and baggy clothes. In the morning, I sneaked into the guest room and watched her with interest.

As she woke up and cried, I felt sorry for her and wanted to calm her down, but mommy was quicker. As she asked me for my clothes, I nodded and went over to my room to fetch them. Fortunately, my size would fit her even if they were a little bigger.

“Tu je tričko a tepláky,” I walked over to her and stretched my arm towards her, holding the T-shirt and home wear pants in my hand. 

[Little_Girl_Olivia]

Whilst I sobbed to myself I might have felt lost, alone and deeply confused, but thankfully I wasn't really alone. I was in a kind household with good people and within a few moments of crying to myself I felt the woman's hand on my shoulder and felt comforted. I turned around to her, looking up and realising I was shorter than I had been before. With tears still in my eyes I pleaded with her. "Pourquoi ? Pourquoi cela m'arrive-t-il ? Qu'ai-je fait pour mériter ça ?" Again, I received only a pitying look in answer and so I simply laid my head against the stranger's chest, continuing to sob as my emotions overwhelmed me. The woman spoke softly to me. Attempting to soothe me I think but I didn't understand her. She spoke in Slovak.

Whilst I cried into the woman's chest I became away of how wet my clothes felt. I'd dismissed it as sweat upon waking up and the shock of the situation had been enough for me to ignore it completely, but now the cold dampness was getting uncomfortable. A faint scent and the fact that the dampness seemed to be concentrated around my midriff and down my legs confirmed my fear. My cheeks burned as I realised that I'd wet myself whilst I'd been passed-out. How humiliating. I really hoped I hadn't ruined the mattress of these kind people who had looked after me?

With my head in the the woman's chest I was only aware of the sounds of what was happening around me. I heard the woman say something else. I heard the door open and close and footsteps down the corridor, and then I heard the door to the guest bedroom opening again after a while. I looked up and the boy was offering me clothes.

"Ces vêtements sont-ils pour moi ?" I asked him, red in the face because the obvious implication of this was that the family was aware I'd wet myself and were offering me clean clothes to change into. I wiped tears from my face and picked up the T-shirt. It clearly belonged to the boy and the assumption was, if he and I were now similar ages, that his clothes should fit me. "OK." I nodded, using the English phrase. Surely everybody knew 'OK' I took the pants from him as well with small, shy, awkward but grateful smile. If Milian had never been smiled at by a pretty girl before I might have unintentionally made him blush. I tried to remember the right words for 'Thank you' from my pocket book yesterday. "Dakujem." 

Changing my clothes seemed like a good idea. I wiped my face again, taking a step away from Magda and waiting expectantly for the strangers to leave. "
Puis-je avoir un moment d'intimité, s'il vous plaît ?... Uh, Prosim" That was the other Slovak word I'd picked up.

 

[didba59]

Milan:

As the girl took the clothes from my hand, she smiled at me, and I blushed instantly. I didn’t have almost any experience with girls, and that smile hit my mind; my heart was beating fast, and I turned back.

“Mami, idem do školy,” I stepped forwards, headed towards my room, grabbed my school bag and hurried up to the bus stop. However, I still saw that smile before my eyes.

Magda:

I held the girl tightly until she calmed down a little. I was quite curious about her … or about the man she had changed from … , but we had to solve more urgent matters. The clothes were too big for her, her back smelled of the wine from the broken bottle and I even felt a familiar stench of urine. She definitely needed to wash and change into clean clothes.

Milan had left, so we were alone. “Poď sa najprv umyť,” I asked her when she took the step away from me. I gestured at her to follow me, headed towards the bathroom, opened the door and stepped away, so she could go inside.

“Osušky sú tam na skrinke,” I pointed at towels, sitting on the lower shelf of the bathroom cabinet, and closed the door behind her. I headed back to the guest room to find the blanket wet; fortunately, the mattress was not ruined.

In the kitchen, I prepared breakfast for her and waited until she would come back from the bathroom. I also fetched the backpack and removed the bottle shards and looked at a phrase book, soaked with wine. I didn’t want to rummage it more; it was hers though. Instead, I carried it to the kitchen and put it onto a bench.

[Little_Girl_Olivia]

A little confusingly, from my perspective at least, the boy left, seemingly in somewhat of a hurry, whereas the woman remained behind. Either my request for privacy hadn't been understood and the boy had left of his own accord anyway, or the boy had listened and the woman had not. Bruisingly I realised that now that I was a child and not an adult, I had less authority. So when I found myself alone with just the woman, still expecting her to leave so that I could undress and get dressed again in privacy, it occured to me I had no real power over her to insist that she leave. 

"Prosim?" I pleaded again a little more instantly, not wanting to have to capitulate and undress in front of an audience.  

We confused each other for another awkward moment and then I recognised that I was being beckoned to follow her. "Ah oui, bien sûr" I agreed, and followed uncertainly, unfamiliar with this house. 

"Ah, je vois. Merci beaucoup!" I exclaimed as I was shown to a bathroom. "Dakujem."
 

Thankfully I was finally left to myself and I shrugged off my ill fitting and urine soaked clothes with realish until I was standing completely naked on the bathroom tiles, looking down at my unfamiliar body and feeling as if I must still be in a dream. I stood at the bathroom mirror and looked again. I was definitely a girl. I had a pair of breasts which I cupped, surprised by feel and weight of them, and I could see and feel that I had no penis or testes. Instead it looked like there was nothing between my legs from a standing point of view but I guessed if I was sitting down with my legs open and I looked down I would find that I had a vulva now. 

Scrutinising my new sex began to raise the hairs on the back of my neck, I felt a little bit perverted in my curiosity, this was the body of a child after all! So I turned away from the mirror, suddenly shy of my reflection and focused on getting clean.

Showering was an strange experience in a foreign body and it actually made me feel tearful again as I ran my hands other parts of myself which felt strange to me. This incentivised me to finish up quickly, even though the warm water cascading onto me felt nice. I'd had to work out what was soap and shampoo through guesswork since I couldn't read the bottles and I completely failed to condition my hair properly, because I'd never had such long hair, so I was inevitably going to end up with tangles later on. 

I used one of the towels Magda had pointed out to dry my hair, which turned out to be more of a chore than I'd anticipated and frankly it still wasn't really dry by the time I had finished but It had stopped dripped at least. The second towel I dried my body off with and again I took stock of how much smaller I was now because the towel seemed to engulf me.

Freshened up and dressed in Milian's clothes I left the bathroom and wondered out into the house to find the woman again so that I could offer her my old clothes and the towels for washing.

Milian's shirt hung a little long on me and a bit baggy on my slight frame but his pants had a draw string which allowed me to clinch it snuggly around my small waist. 

Eventually I located Magda and the kitchen. "Je t'ai apporté ce linge à nettoyer." I announced shyly because it seemed rude to make a request of someone in their own home, and hefted the laundry in my arms so that she could take it from me, but I hesitated before bringing it to her. "Oh, quelle étourdie ! J'avais presque oublié !" I remarked as I remembered that I hadn't emptied my pockets. I set the pile of clothes and wet towels on the bench next to where my rucksack had been sent and began removing things like my keys, wallet... I wrinkled my nose at some paper receipt from the cafe yesterday which was now soggy and smelt like urine. 

"Où est mon téléphone?" I muttered as I continued to check through pockets and set down my passport and some loose coins. "Où est mon téléphone?" I repeated a little more frantically as I'd checked all of the trouser pockets twice and I was not checking the jacket. "Putain. Putain" I cursed and from Magda's perspective she witnessed a teenage girl who approached her a moment ago looked nervous but relatively calm following showering, to becoming very panicked once more. I dropped my jacket and began looking through my rucksack. I couldn't loose my phone, it was my connection to everything. How would anybody I knew find out what had happened to be if I couldn't find my phone?

"Avez-vous pris mon téléphone ?" I asked angrily after failing to find it in the rucksack and even running back to the bedroom to check it hadn't fallen out. I felt guilty for the accusation as it didn't appear that any other of my possessions were missing but I was desperate and scared. I could see that the woman had set out some breakfast but I simply couldn't even think about eating right now. Not until I'd found my phone.
 

[didba59]

Magda:

The girl returned from the bathroom and carried her old clothes and towels. I nodded and pointed to the bench where her backpack was sitting.

All of sudden, she started searching pockets, pulling out a passport, keys, wallet and several coins. However, she didn’t stop searching and rummaged through her rucksack; something was missing apparently. She kept murmuring for herself, but I didn't understand anything.

Finally, she almost shouted angrily. I couldn’t understand the entire sentence, but I heard a familiar word.

“Hľadáš telefón? Tu sme ho nenašli, musela si ho stratiť. Môžeme ísť pozrieť do lesa, kde ťa Peter našiel.” I kept my voice low and shook my head when she ran away to the guest room.

As she returned form the guest room, empty handed, I tried to calm her down, “upokoj sa prosím, poď, najedz sa, a potom pôjdeme hľadať, s plným žalúdkom sa bude lepšie hľadať.” I pointed at the plate and then pointed outside and made a gesture of searching.

[Little_Girl_Olivia]

"Non. Non. Je ne comprends pas ce que vous dites. Vous ne parlez pas du tout français ?" I raised my hands in the air, frustratedly trying to express that I didn't want to be comforted, I wanted to go searching for my phone. Miraculously the woman seemed to understand something of this and I read from her miming that she was agreeing we could go outside and search. There appeared to be a caveat. "Prendre mon petit-déjeuner d'abord, et ensuite chercher mon téléphone ?" I asked, letting my hands fall back down to my sides and calmly looking towards breakfast and then back at Magda with a questioning expression. Yes, that seemed to be the case. "OK." I commented and took at seat at the table, eating as quickly as I could to expedite getting outside. 

Breakfast was a simple but pleasantly familiar array of bread, ham, cheese and tomatoes with a cup of black tea to go with it. It was the sort of thing own my mother might have put out for us kids on a busy school morning when we were growing up because it quick to prepare cold from the fridge yet also nutritious. The only thing she might have done differently was give us a small cup of coffee instead of tea, which would lead to arguments about taking far too sugar. In this instance, I drank the tea while it was still too hot and added extra milk to the second half to cool it so that I could finish it quicker.

Once I had eaten and again, I remembered to say “Dakujem” I rose immediately from the kitchen table, leaving my empty plate behind rather than helping bring it to the sink to be rinsed. "Prosim?" I requested and gestured towards a window onlooking to the garden, meaning that I wanted to go outside now. I supposed the woman couldn't really stop me anyway, it was would just be much more useful to have her help in the search, and so I was already pacing towards what looked like a door to outside.

"Merde." I cursed to myself as it occurred to me I wasn't going to be able to go outside with bare wet. The boy had only given me a top and pants, not even spare underwear or socks, I was covered enough to preserve my modest inside but I couldn't go outside. "J'ai besoin de chaussures" I explained my latest problem to the woman. "chaussure?" I repeated and lifted one of my feet, pointing first to it, and then back outside. This really could be a problem as although I could make do with the boy's clothes, it was highly unlikely that we were going to be the same shoe size.

"Aiiieee!" I grumbled in frustration and sat back down heavily on the bench with my arms folded. What were my options? Try to search in shoes that didn't fit properly or try to ask the woman if she could search for me? Well the later was going to be practically impossible without me showing her where I'd been, and so I would just have to make do with the first option. I stood up again. "Chaussures." I stated more confidently. "Prosim" indicating that I still wanted the woman to try and help find some shoes for me.

[didba59]

Magda:

I watched the desperate girl and understood her. The phone was a part of her identity, her contacts to her … or his … world. I suddenly realized how the world had changed. When I was as young as her, there were no mobile phones at all. Speaking of identity, I didn’t know her name, and neither did she know mine.

She hesitantly agreed to my plan and sat down to eat. The breakfast was simple, and she ate everything in a hurry. Although she didn’t carry the plate to the sink, she thanked me, and I replied smiling, “nemáš za čo, srdiečko,” I involuntarily called her like she was a child. After all, she seemed to be as old as Milan.

After breakfast, she pointed at the window and asked me politely; I had to smile; she had learned the most important words “please” and “thanks”. She literally jumped up and almost ran to the door when she suddenly stopped and looked down. Without understanding her word, I realized what was wrong; she was barefoot. She again panicked, returned to the bench and repeated the word over and over.

“Viem, si bosá, potrebuješ topánky a ponožky,“ I nodded and headed towards the hall. She couldn’t wear Milan’s shoes, but I could lend her my sneakers, they probably would fit her. I took my sneakers and socks and carried them to the kitchen.

“Skús si moje, mali by ti byť dobré,” I passed them to her and waited until she put them on. Afterwards, I gestured at her to follow me; I headed to the entrance hall, took one of Milan’s jackets and offered I to her. We left the house and walked over to Andrej’s winery. I guessed it was a good reference point.

While walking, I pointed at myself and tell her my name “Ja som Magda” and the pointed at her, “a ty sa ako voláš?”

[Little_Girl_Olivia]

“Dakujem” I accepted the shoes and socks and quickly slipped them onto my small feet. They were a comfortable enough fit, it didn’t seem like I would have any trouble or risk twisting my ankle in this. “D'accord. Allons-y.” I stated positively as I rose to my feet once more but it was really a kind of bravado, beneath it I was still anxious and worried about not being able to find my phone.

Whilst we walked down the village road, I scanned the road in case my phone might have fallen out of a pocket at some point. As I looked and walked, I began to notice that people were noticing me. The village was a little busier than when I’d visited in the afternoon yesterday. Then, most people were still at work or had gone inside to have their lunch. This morning, those who weren’t working were outside doing chores or running errands. Moreso, where as yesterday a strange man who looked like a tourist was a passing curiosity, a young girl walking with Magda was more of a talking point. I was more conspicuous by association with one of the residents. I began to wonder if I should pull up the hood of the jacket the woman had given me, then at least I might be mistaken for her son at a glance and people might stop staring quizzically.

The tension was broken by the woman speaking to me. I watched her gesturing to herself at first I admittedly didn’t listen properly because it seemed futile to pay attention to a language that I was struggling to understand but when she repeated herself my eyes widened a fraction with slow understanding of what she was communicating. Magda was a name. Her name was Magda. “Qui.” I nodded in comprehension and repeated. “Magda.” She pointed back at me, indicating it was my turn.

 

“Moi? Je m'appelle… non.” I stopped myself from habitually responding in French and tried to remember what Magda had just said. “Eh… Ja som.. Jo.” I told her and it made me feel a little warm to be able to say something and communicate with this kind stranger.

We soon came to the winery and I began to drag my feet feeling anxious at the prospect of meeting Andrej again. I now looked quite different how he’d seen me yesterday when we’d met. Would he recognise me at all? Would he refuse to believe I was the same person and call me a lair or think I was mad? I was unaware that Peter had already visited Andrej and explained what had happened to the best of his knowledge.

Feeling nervous, I shyly let Magda lead the way and crept in behind her. I pulled at her arm when we came across the wine cellar entrance. “Je suis descendu à la cave à vin.” I explained and pointed down the steps. It was evident that I’d been here at least, so that part of my storey was matching up. “Andrej m'a proposé une dégustation de vins. Je n'ai pas aimé, mais j'ai ensuite aperçu du Tokai sur une étagère au fond de la pièce ; il me l'a proposé à prix réduit et j'en ai donc acheté deux bouteilles. Deux..” I held up two fingers to indicate two.

[didba59]

Magda:

While we were walking down the street, we encountered several neighbors. A nice elderly woman smiled at the girl widely and joked apparently, “Magda, Milan má dievča a priviedol ho domov? Má dobrý vkus,”

“Nie, nebudeš mi veriť, keď ti poviem, kto je,“ I answered, being amused, “poviem ti neskôr, teraz sa ponáhľame.”

“Dobre,” she shrugged and continued.

As she struggled to introduce herself in Slovak, I suddenly wanted to repay it to her, “Je m'appelle Magda?” I pointed at myself, turned to her and waited for her answer.

We stopped before the winery. I wanted only to show her the place, so she could remember the journey from there.

“Ja viem, čo sa stalo,” I looked at her and nodded, when she showed two fingers to me, ”Peter bol včera u Andreja a Andrej mu to povedal. Bola si na ochutnávke vína a kúpila si dve fľaše.”

At that moment, Andrej spotted us and walked over to the gate. A flicker of recognition appeared in his eyes.

“Moje víno?” he started at the girl in utter surprise, “tak to je zázrak, omladzuje a skrášľuje. Magda, nechceš aj ty?” his eyes revealed surprise and joking, no sign of mockery.

“Daj pokoj, starý somár. Ja som spokojná s tým, aká som.”

Andrej,’s look changed when he looked at the girl. He knew what happened; it was not fun. He understood her situation and felt guilty. It was careless even if the man asked for it. He didn’t believe the old rumors and sold the wine anyway.

“Pane … slečna … prepáčte … sorry … nevedel som a nechcel som,” he looked at her guiltily and apologetically, “ja vám vrátim tie peniaze, viac nedokážem,” he shrugged, reached into his pocket and held the 30 Euro in his hand.

 

[Little_Girl_Olivia]

I was supprised but delighted when Magda unexpectedly spoke in French for a moment. My face lit up as she reconfirmed her name and although I realised she was just repeating my words and that we would now both start talking in my mother tongue, I recognised it was a kind gesture. "Qui. Tres bien!" I complimented her enthusiastically. 

After I had pointed down into the wine cellar Magda said something at length which suggested to me she might be trying to explain something rather than asking me a simple question. Unfortunately, as my furrowed brow suggested, I didn't understand her except picking up that she mentioned Andrej by name and perhaps another name 'Peter'? 

Thankfully we weren't left to stand confusing one another outside the winery because Andrej himself happened upon us without is going looking for him any further. I of course recognised him and he seemed to regard me with some sort of scrutiny, as if he was making his mind up about something. I could tell there was some sort of context I was missing from the way that Andrej seemed to be expecting me despite his supprised curiosity, and from the way he kept looking between me and Magda, asking her questions. After a while Andrej's mind seemed to have settled and his expression dropped heavily, full of regret. I knew in that moment that he was seeing me properly and that he fully comprehend what happened. 

Whilst what I took to be a heartfelt apology was humbling I nevertheless felt a sudden flash of anger come across me, like storm clouds turning jet black. If Andrej was apologising this deeply and sincerely then It meant he felt culpable for what had happened to me. That meant that it was Andrej who had done this thing to me. Whether it had been knowingly or unknowingly I didn't care, just saw red and starting yelling at the poor apologetic man. 

"Andrej? Qu'est-ce que tu racontes ? Tu es en train de dire que c'est toi qui m'as fait ça ? Tu es en train de me dire que tu m'as transformé d'un homme en une fille ? Tu as ruiné ma vie, espèce d'ordure !" I ranted at him, stamping my foot and then my rage subsided to desperation as I pleaded with him.

" Andrej. Tu dois me rendre mon apparence humaine, Andrej. S'il te plaît, Andrej. Je veux redevenir un homme. Je veux juste retrouver ma vie d'avant et je quitterai ce village pour ne plus jamais y remettre les pieds. Je te le promets. S'il te plaît ?... Prosim?" I fell my knees and clasped at his clothes, looking up and begging. I turned back the offer of return money, I didn't want it back, It hardly seemed to mater if I couldn't have my own life back. 

 

 

[didba59]

Andrej:

I watched the girl and her reaction. She suddenly behaved like an immature child, screaming at me and stomping her feet. However, she broke seconds later and knelt before me and clasped at my clothes.

I was heartbroken when I saw her despair. The poor girl lost her old life; she had neither family nor contacts and was totally lost. I had to admit it was my fault, my carelessness. Unfortunately, I was as surprised as she was, and unable to undo the change. I wished I could explain to her what happened, but how?

Tears ran down my cheeks when I lifted her gently and looked in her eyes. “Ja som vinár, nie čarodejník,” I sighed heavily, pointed at myself, shook my head and said “abracadabra”, and waved my hand as if I was casting spells.

“Poď so mnou, niečo ti ukážem,” I gestured at her and led her to the cellar. There was an old family photo hanging on the wall. I pointed at the back shelf and then at my grandfather in the picture. Then, I remembered an old book about winery history and led her to my working room and took that book, labeled “História vinárstva v Malých Karpatoch”. I browsed the book and pointed at the mention about strange wines “magické víná”.

[Little_Girl_Olivia]

"vin magique!" I scoffed, repeating the line in my own language because I'd understood it well enough, and rolled my eyes. I hadn't intended to do so or even realised I was doing it but nevertheless I had expressed my biased view on the matter. Then I pursed my lips and begrudgingly turned a couple of pages in the history book. This was the only explanation I was being offered, if I wanted to be transformed back into my adult male body, then I would had to swallow my pride and at least consider what was in front of me. I had never been superstitious, religious or even much taken with stage performer magic, the very idea of magic seemed ridiculous to me and yet, how else could such a dramatic change be explained? I couldn't deny to myself what I had experienced this morning. There was no doubt that I had woken to find myself in a teenage girl's body. Or, more accurately, what seemed certain to me to be 'my' body, had I been born a girl. It didn't seem to me like I'd mysteriously swapped bodies with someone from the village, rather that I myself had changed.

"Ça ne va pas, je ne peux pas le lire et vous ne pouvez pas le traduire pour moi." I complained after turning five pages into the history book and not scanning anything on the pages which made any sense to me. In fact it was actually kind of embarrassing that I was being offered the explanation I had asked for and now I was finding that I couldn't read what had been placed in front of me.

"Un instant." I announced and prompted exited the study room without explanation, blond hair streaming behind me in my haste and returned moments later with one of the dusty bottles of the wine Andrej sold me. "Voila." I presented it and turned the bottle in my hands until I'd found the front and the label, searching for the date of production. "Prosim?" I requested, using one of the only words I knew. Showing Andrej the bottle and pointing at where the date was written. I hoped that his history book was written chronologically and that giving him a date would help him to find the relevant entry in the book. "História.. vina" I nodded to the open book, borrowing his words that I'd understood but having to abandon any attempt at grammer, like a small child trying to ask for something in a language they are only starting to pick up.

[didba59]

Andrej:

The words "vin magique!" revealed that the girl did understand what happened. However, her face revealed a shock. Was there magic in our world? To be honest, I was shocked either, when Peter told me what happened.  I considered the rumors a pure fairy tale, now I faced the magic and saw its desperate and wailing effect before my eyes.

The girl stared at the book and browsed it slightly in a vain effort to learn more. She looked disappointed; of course, she didn’t understand anything more. She did something unexpected and brought a bottle from the back shelf and cleaned it so we could see the date. “1820”, my eyes went wide. I didn’t look at it the day before.

“Počkaj, skúsim sa pozrieť,” I nodded and returned to the page I showed her earlier. The book included very old records, but the mention of magic wines lacked exact dating, it was only mentioned as old rumors.

I knew the book and the chronology with dates and important events; however, the mention of magic wines was written in a separate part among other spicy interesting facts. I shook my head and showed her the chronology and then the separate part with spicinesses.

[Little_Girl_Olivia]

It was a disappointment to be refered back to the same page but I had to trust that Andrej knew what he was looking for within the pages of the history book. So, magic wine, that's all we were left with. As incredible as it sounded, that was the explanation but unfortunately there seemed to be no solution on offer. Andrej, as he had indicated earlier, was no magician, and it seemed that up until this point he'd been unaware the wine could possibly have such an effect upon a person. So what options did I have left to me? 

"Dakujem." I thanked Andrej for his effort, offering him a small reassuring smile to say I understood that he'd done what he could and then I stepped away from the book, looking a bit lost. With trepidation I glanced over at the 'magic wine' again. I wondered what would happen if I was to drink it again? Would it reverse the curse? Or would it make it worse? Whatever that might mean. It wasn't worth the risk. 

I sighed and there was a sort of pregnant pause in the room as nobody seemed to know what to do or to say next. Then I perked up, my body almost jumping as I remembered why we'd actually come here in thr first place. 

"Mon téléphone ! Andrej, tu as vu un téléphone par ici ? Je l'aurais peut-être laissé ici après la dégustation de vin… Un téléphone ?" I held my hand up to my mouth with my thumb and pinky finger extended. 

[didba59]

Andrej:

I could read sadness and disappointment in her eyes. She was trapped in an unknown world without any real chance of returning. My heart sank, and I desperately wanted to help her. Unfortunately, the change couldn’t be undone. She looked at the wine as if she was considering drinking it again, but I shook my head and took the bottle gently from her hands. She also seemed to have refused that idea. I also returned the book to the shelf.

Although we couldn’t give her back her old life, we still could make her new world safe and loving. Our community was friendly.

“Slečna, urobím všetko pre to, aby ste sa u nás cítili bezpečne a príjemne. Nemôžem vám vrátiť váš predošlý život, ale môžem vám pomôcť vytvoriť nový život tu u nás.”

After a long pause, she turned to me, and I recognized the word “telephone.” However, I didn’t remember any phone the day before. Anyway, we could search the cellar.

“Telefón?” I turned to her and gestured at her to follow me, “môžeme ho pohľadať, ale nespomínam si,” we returned to the cellar and searched the room. Unfortunately, we haven’t found anything. I expected it and shrugged and shook my head, “je mi ľúto … sorry,” I used the word I had heard often earlier. Maybe she understood.

Magda:

“Ďakujeme, Andrej. Skúsime prehľadať cestu a chodnék v lese, ked ju Peter včera našiel,” I turned to Jo and motioned at her to follow me. As we were standing before Andrej’s house, I looked at her, “Kade si išla?” I gestured at the street and waited.