Konrad looked at him surprised.
"Really? I do not believe! How old are you?"
"Eighteen. And I don't care what you believe. You said you wanted to help me. So what do you think will sell?"
Skalski looked around the room again, trying to forget about the beautiful pieta. The works gathered here were very nice, but will there be a demand for them at this point?
"It all will sell, but I don't know if it's for a lot of money. Look, I know someone who trades in art. He even runs a gallery. If you agree, I would send him some photos asking for his opinion."
"Really?"
Sławek's blue eyes perked up and Konrad suddenly became convinced with redoubled power that he wanted to help him. Not only for himself to defeat his father, but also for Sławek.
"Yes," he assured, and immediately took out his cell phone. "The photos I'm sending him don't have to be perfect, but this smartphone takes them in really good resolution so he'll have an idea what he's dealing with. He sells art professionally, works with various associations and churches, so he will definitely know how much something like this is worth on the market. Maybe even help us sell something."
At this point, Konrad was so excited about the whole situation that it never crossed his mind that his "acquaintance" might not be interested in the art of some country sculptor with a brief period of dubious glory over half a century ago.
He started taking pictures, and although he was not a photographer, he tried to capture the subject in such a way as to present it from the most interesting side. Most of the carvings were unpainted and looked very natural in the colors of the wood, but there was also some covered with paints.
"Phew, it's getting hotter," he observed.
"Do you want something to drink? I don't have much choice, but there is cola ..."
"Cola can be, thanks."
Sławek went to the kitchen and Konrad was still taking pictures. Taking advantage of the fact that he was left alone, he also uncovered his pieta to photograph it as well. She was too intriguing, too curious to be just missed. When he was done, he wrote a short message to his friend and sent him some of them.
"Done," he said when Domejczuk returned with the can. "Now you just have to wait for his contact. It may take time as he is a busy man, but he will let me know ..."
His phone vibrated with an incoming text message. He was surprised because it was a reply to a message he had just sent.
"Maybe he's not so busy ..." he muttered to himself, reading the text.
"Give me the address" said the text.
Surprised, Skalski raised his head and looked at Sławek.
"Bad news?" Asked the host.
"I don't know, I don't think so," Konrad Skalski said. "He wants me to give him the address. Can I do it?"
Sławek pursed his lips. He didn't think he had much to lose after all.
"Pass it."
Skalski sent a message. He hadn't put down the phone when he got the answer.
"I'll be there in an hour," he read aloud.
"Seriously?"
"That's what it says here."
"Oh, shit ..."
***
They both sat impatiently in the shadows, sipping Coke and not really talking. They looked at each other from time to time, but they didn't know each other at all, so it was hard for them to find a common topic to talk about, especially since they both felt the tension related to the arrival of Konrad's friend. So they often looked towards the road, and when a unknown to Sławek car parked in front of the yard, they got up from the bench.
A man in a suit got out of the car. He looked to be in his forties, but his hair wasn't gray yet. He was neither too tall nor powerfully built, rather average. He smiled at them as he approached the gate.
"Good morning," he greeted, holding out his hand. "My name is Henryk Kowalski and I am the owner of one of the art galleries in Lublin. Could I speak to the owner of the house?"
"It will be me. Sławomir Domejczuk" boy introduced himself and shook the offered hand. "Please go on."
"Thank you. Are you Sławoj's grandson? Great-grandson?"
"A grandson. Do you know about my grandfather?"
"Of course. I recognized his works immediately. I'd like to see him if possible."
"Unfortunately ... grandfather died. I buried him."
"He died? I'm so sorry! Mr. Domejczuk was an excellent artist, full of passion and knowing the structure of wood like no one else. Really" he shook his head and Sławek got the impression that this man really regretted Sławoj's death. For some reason, it made him feel like the stranger. "Will it be possible for me to pay my respects on his grave?"
"Er… yes, of course," Sławek assured a little confused.
"Thank you. Now let's get down to business. Konrad wrote that you want to sell your grandfather's sculptures."
"I don't want as much as I have to. Grandpa left a certain debt and I am looking for possible means to pay it back."
"I understand. I am afraid that at the moment it will not be easy to get a good price for Mr. Sławoj's work. The current fashion is not conducive to sacred art. Still, I'd like to see his work and try to do some research."
"Yes of course. This way please."
Kowalski said at the outset that it would not be easy to sell his grandfather's work in a profitable manner, and yet Sławek felt that he was coming alive. Art dealer had troubled here personally, apparently he knew and appreciated his grandfather's work and seemed to be an honest man. Certainly he will try to help him in some way. Thanks to him, the boy saw a tiny light in the tunnel.
Sławek surreptitiously looked at Konrad, who had brought this art dealer here. Skalski looked confident and content, but on closer inspection, he was just as excited about the situation as he was.
For the second time that day, Sławek opened the door of his grandfather's studio to a complete stranger.
"My God," Kowalski sighed. "How much is there!"
He began to move between the sculptures, only looking at some and picking up others. He took his time, but paid more attention to only some of them.
"Beautiful, like all the works of Mr. Sławoj" he said. "Even more beautiful than before. You can see that they were created by a very experienced artist, and despite some repetition, each of the sculptures has its own individual features. I won't lie to you though, boy, there's no need for this kind of art at the moment. Unfortunately. I can propose this Madonna and Child to a certain chapel under construction. Perhaps they will also be tempted by Peter and Paul, but I cannot guarantee. I can take a few smaller works to my gallery and sell them for ... three or five hundred per art. Unfortunately, I don't know how quickly I can find a buyer.
"But ... I need money now! This is a very urgent matter! If I had put them on the Internet ..."
The man shook his head, looking at one to the other.
"It's not that easy," he explained. "Yes, it can be done, but if the market collapses, the prices will be very low. Below the artistic value. I suggest a staged sale."
"But ..."
"But if you care about a lot of money and quickly, among the photos I noticed one intriguing sculpture. Unfortunately, it is not finished and the artist has passed away. This complicates things a bit, because I will have to convince the buyer that this is where the greatest value of the work lies."
"You mean Saint Anthony?" Sławek pointed to the clearly unfinished figurine.
"No, I saw something else."
"But that's the only thing Grandpa didn't finish."
"And the pieta?"
"Pieta?" Sławek asked surprised. "She's mine. But how did you ..."
Konrad! It's obvious it's him! Sławek Domejczuk looked at Skalski angrily.
Kowalski looked at young Domejczuk through closed lids.
"Show her to me," he ordered firmly.
"But she is ... I just ..."
"Show me."