"Mm. I'll be asleep by then, but sure." He nods, and explains the question: "If you were staying up all night I might complain about the waste of electricity, but midnight isn't bad."

"If I stay up past midnight I can turn the lights off."

"And walk around in the dark?" ...On second thought, she did say she ambushed that kid in the dark and choked him unconscious. She'll probably manage not to fall down the stairs. "Well, maybe you can. And you can wake me up if you need to for some reason." Not that he expects that, but she hasn't even been here one night, maybe something about the house will turn out to confuse her.

She nods.

He thinks about other potential problems an eleven-year-old left on her own around the house at night might have. "Feel free to eat food. Don't drink the tap water without boiling it. And don't add wood to the fires by yourself - or do you know how?"

"I've worked with fire before but I can wait until you have time to show me how to do it properly, just in case."

"Might as well do that now," especially if she's going to be up for God knows how long instead of staying warm in bed. He shows her where the dry firewood is stacked up one side of the entry hall, how to lean it over the half-burned pieces so it'll catch well (although it sounds like she knows that already), how to angle things to make sure nothing falls out of the open living room fireplace, reminds her to make sure the kitchen stove door is closed and latched (not that she seems the type to be careless about anything), how to check for proper airflow - none of it is particularly complicated as long as you know how fire works and aren't afraid of it.

And then it's another hour or so of quiet sewing before he says goodnight and goes up to bed. (And washes first, which reminds him to show her where the towels and extra toothbrush and so on are. He assumes American bathrooms aren't so different that anything in his needs explanation - well, the laundry machine might, but that's not relevant. Everything else is indeed familiar, if odd-looking. There's a bathtub with a handheld showerhead, but they apparently haven't invented shower curtains yet, which may seem like a fraught combination.)

He sleeps well and keeps his door closed, so she's unlikely to wake him up unless she means to. He'll be up around six in the morning if left to his own devices.

She follows along very attentively with all his explanations, and after he goes to bed she does end up boiling some water to drink before she goes upstairs a little before midnight to brush her teeth and avail herself of the acceptable pajamas. Then it's just a quarter hour of staying up making notes on Polish to study before she goes to sleep at about ten past.

In the morning, she wakes up at half past eight and attempts to figure out how to shower here. Perhaps the handheld showerhead should be deployed cautiously and with precision. She also, though she does test the temperature controls first thing, uses hot water only to wash her hair and turns it cold again once that's over with. Conditioner would be too much to hope for, wouldn't it. Ah well. It's still better than the orphanage.

Conditioner is indeed nowhere in evidence. The handheld showerhead can be deployed cautiously and with precision and not end up getting water all over the bathroom, if one is good at caution and precision, as Wednesday no doubt is. The hot water doesn't run out while she's washing her hair, which is another improvement on the orphanage.

Breakfast is scrambled eggs again (that really is rather a lot of chickens for one or two people), with sausage this time.

"It would be good to go to the school today and see how to get you signed up. We could wait until your Polish is better, but then they could want you to go to classes, so I think we shouldn't." It's not lying - it is manipulating events in order to get around the rules, but he's lived under communism for too long to default to any other way of relating to official rules.

"Yes, that seems reasonable. Let's do that."

They do that. She gets to see the main part of the village, which Marek explains is really nearly a town, not like the more typical villages around it  - there are several stores and even one restaurant, multiple intersections in which both streets are paved, a little square with alleys surrounded by flowers, entire blocks of row-houses instead of freestanding farms, and so on. The walk is nearly half an hour, and then there's a bit of a wait for the school secretary to be free.

The old secretary retired recently; the new one's a transfer from one of the neighboring villages and Marek doesn't really know her, but he can get along with most people just fine, so he doesn't come in expecting any real problems.

"Dzień dobry pani. Jestem Marek Dąbrowski i mam pod opieką dziewczynkę z sierocińca w dość skomplikowanej sytuacji. Mówi tylko po angielsku."*

The woman looks suspicious, perhaps at the mention of the orphanage, which he doesn't like but can't honestly blame her for. "Jak to tylko? Skąd się wzięła?"

"Prawdę mówiąc nie wiem dokładnie, poza tym że z sierocińca w Krakowie... Może pani do nich zadzwonić i dopytać o szczegóły, ale to chyba jakaś skomplikowana sytuacja, nie wnikałem."

She sighs theatrically but doesn't contradict him. Yes, these things happen. "Tylko tego nam brakowało. I co pan chce z nią zrobić?"

"Nauczyć polskiego," he spreads his hands to indicate his lack of other options, "a w międzyczasie powinna w teorii być zapisana do szkoły, ale z chodzenia na lekcje nie będzie mieć żadnego pożytku. Myślę że--"

She interrupts him, clearly annoyed. "Że co, będzie tylko udawać że chodzi do szkoły? Nie ma czegoś takiego, proszę pana. Ma być w szkole, to będzie, na pewno więcej się nauczy niż od siedzenia w domu."

"Proszę pani, przecież prawie nikt z nauczycieli tu nie mówi po angielsku!" He really wasn't expecting this sort of insistence, and doesn't know how to convey to her how much this idea doesn't make sense.

"I co z tego? Dziecko szybciej się nauczy polskiego w szkole niż od pana," she gives him the condescending look of an education professional who knows that learning is something that happens in school, "a im szybciej będzie mogła normalnie brać udział w lekcjach tym lepiej."

In all honesty, she might even be right that Wednesday, or at least some other child that wasn't Wednesday, would learn faster with more immersion - assuming people actually try to talk to her, which apparently hasn't been happening so far, but he does think the school will be better about that than the orphanage was - but putting her in another environment full of largely unsupervised children does not sound like a good idea. And it's not what he told her would happen, and he's definitely not going to change that decision on her without even talking to her about it. (With another child he might, but Wednesday both has strong preferences and is reasonable about them, and it doesn't occur to him to treat her as if either of these things wasn't true.)

He wishes they could've had the whole conversation in English, so Wednesday could understand instead of standing there probably only catching single words, but even if the secretary spoke English it would've been asking for trouble to try for something that strange. Of course pausing the conversation now to talk to a child is also going to look bizarre and pointless from this woman's perspective, but it's not as if there's much of a rapport here to try to preserve. "Przepraszam panią, muszę z nią o tym porozmawiać." She looks about as baffled and annoyed as he expected, but doesn't comment.

"Wednesday, the school secretary insists that you should go to the normal classes and try to learn Polish as you can." He's not sure what a reasonable question to ask next is, really. "Do you... think you could do that? Without it ending badly? I think I can figure out something else, if not, but it will be more complicated, and it's possible that she's right." He doesn't expect she's right, but it seemed fair to consider the possibility.

"Good morning. I'm Marek Dąbrowski and I'm taking care of a girl from an orphanage, in a rather complicated situation. She only speaks English."

"What do you mean, only? Where did she come from?"

"To be honest I don't know exactly, besides the orphanage in Kraków... You can call them and ask about the details, but it sounds like a complicated situation, I didn't want to get into it."

"That's really all we needed here. And what do you want to do with her?"

"Teach her Polish, and in the meantime in theory she should be enrolled in school, but going to classes won't do her any good. I think--"

"What, that she'll just pretend she's going to school? You don't get to do that. She's supposed to be in school, so she will be, and I'm sure she'll learn more than from sitting at home."

"But almost none of the teachers here speak English!"

"So what? The child will learn Polish faster at school than from you, and the sooner she can take part in lessons normally the better."

"Excuse me, I have to talk to her about it."

"I'm provisionally willing to try it but I don't expect it to go any better than any of the other times someone has tried to make me interact with normal children. And I would be annoyed if the inevitable catastrophe made the school so upset that they didn't want me staying with you anymore."

He smiles a little. "I wouldn't give you back and I don't think they'd argue with me - but the inevitable catastrophe would not make things easier, you're right." She's going to need to be registered at some school in order to get graduation papers and have a decent chance of a normal life, assuming things go on for that long, and getting kicked out of one is only going to make it harder to find a different one that will take her. Might as well skip to that step without getting kicked out first, if nothing can be worked out here.

And now that he's made a decision, everything is suddenly easier, as it usually is.

The people in the village tend to forget that the strange quiet man who moved in alone into a little farm by the forest, wears mended clothes, takes in orphaned children, and helps old people with their chores, is someone with a complicated political past, who grew up in a big city, with more opportunities and a better education than most of them, and knows how the world works better than they do. It's easier for him and everyone else to pretend it's not true, especially since the sum of the events of his life is enough of a strange tangle that nobody can tell whether it's better to be him than not - but this is important, and so he stops pretending. As he turns back to the secretary, his posture becomes that of a military officer, used to attention and a certain level of respect, his tone is cooler and less conciliatory, his voice even loses its usual touch of local dialect.

"Proszę pani. Poczekajmy na dyrektora, niech sam zdecyduje. Nie chcę robić tu nikomu kłopotów - sytuacja jest skomplikowana," he's definitely implying something more like high-level politics than like 'the children will hurt each other in worse and more complicated ways than usual', "i wszyscy będziemy mieć najwięcej spokoju jeśli ona będzie się mogła uczyć w domu."*

The woman nods slowly, surprise and new consideration in her eyes. He's even more clearly a threat to her position now - being the school secretary genuinely is a sort of power, in a place like this, and she's quite possessive of her newly achieved place up the ladder - but the sort of threat that might be best to compromise with, or at least to redirect to someone else. She gives Wednesday a proper look, too, instead of half-ignoring her under the assumption that she's a typically ignorable child, and something in the girl's face seems to push her to a decision. "Dobrze, poczekajmy w takim razie."

He nods gravely and takes Wednesday out of the office to wait in the corridor. Sighs and relaxes somewhat, once nobody's watching them.

"Well, that could've gone better. I keep forgetting how some people are."

*"Ma'am**, let's wait for the director and let him decide. I don't want to give anyone trouble - the situation is complicated, and we'll all have more peace and quiet if she can learn at home."

"Very well then, let's wait."

**They've been calling each other standard courtesy titles this whole time, as you normally do in Polish but not in English so I haven't been translating it that way, but now he's being extra pointed about it.

"What did you threaten her with?" she wonders, following him out.

He laughs softy. "Oh, nothing. I slightly implied some politics." For all he knows there may really be complicated politics. An entire bizarre spy plot, maybe. There's certainly nothing normal about her.

"So now we're waiting for the school director, who may decide to do what I want or not, but if he doesn't I can just find you another school." It's not as if anything is stopping him from doing that. It's nice, sometimes, having a life in which you can simply do what you want.

She nods thoughtfully.

Such a quiet child. Marek stays quiet too, and they wait for over an hour - the director teaches geography as well, so most of his time is spent in classes. There's a recess in the meantime, during which Wednesday can observe rather a lot of children between the ages of 6 and 15 walking or running past, some of them giving her variously odd looks (while Marek gets either ignored as an uninteresting adult or nodded to as a familiar one). A group of the younger ones runs outside to have what is by all appearances a consensual brawl in the concrete-tiled yard. Nobody seems to see anything wrong with this, or at least nobody interferes.

Eventually the director has a free period and, having in the meantime been informed of the situation by whatever mysterious forces function in schools, invites Marek and by silent extension Wednesday into his office.

Marek continues not to pretend he's a normal resident of a quiet village, although he's softened it a little compared to last time, and phrases the truth with the maximal amount of vaguely disquieting implications. (He needed to draft it in his head while they waited, he's natively nowhere near that good at sounding disquieting, but nobody needs to know that.)

"Przysłano mi z krakowskiego sierocińca amerykańskie dziecko, którego z różnych powodów nie chciał mieć u siebie ani sierociniec, ani żadne inne związane z nim placówki. Z tego co wiem, najlepiej będzie jeśli będzie mieć spokojne życie z daleka od tłumów, ważnych miejsc i przede wszystkim grup dzieci. A poza tym nie mówi po polsku. Oczywiście legalnie rzecz biorąc musi być zapisana do szkoły," meaning you cannot simply get rid of her without my cooperation, "ale myślę że najprościej będzie jeśli dostanie indywidualny tok nauczania ze wszystkich przedmiotów, kupię jej podręczniki, i będzie się uczyć w domu i zdawać egzaminy raz czy dwa razy do roku. Czy możemy wstępnie zgodzić się na takie rozwiązanie?"*

The director, a somewhat tired-looking man old enough to perhaps have grandchildren at the school, nods slightly, and keeps looking between Marek and Wednesday, not entirely comfortable with either of them. "Dobrze, możemy, jeśli jest pan pewien że to będzie w porządku. Będzie musiała porozmawiać z psychologiem..."

They figure out the arrangements for her to see a child educational psychologist - she comes from Tarnów once a month, so they'll have to go there themselves next week if they don't want to wait for that, which they probably shouldn't. Marek conveys all this to Wednesday once they've left the office, then goes back to get the enrollment forms from the secretary. He's quick and scrupulously polite about it, still in that new not-from-here way, and they can finally head out, before any of the other children reappear for another recess.

*"I was sent an American child from the Kraków orphanage - one who neither the orphanage nor any of the institutions associated with it wanted to house, for various reasons. As I understand it, it will be best if she has a quiet life far from crowds, important places, and especially groups of children. She also doesn't speak Polish. Of course legally speaking she has to be enrolled in school, but I think it'll be simplest if she's assigned individual study in all subjects, I buy her textbooks, and she learns at home and takes exams once or twice a year. Can we preliminarily agree to that solution?"

"All right, we can, if you're sure that'll be all right. She'll need to talk to a psychologist..."

In fact she caught enough of that to proactively ask him, once he's done talking, "Did someone say 'psychologist'?" When he confirms as much, she doesn't say anything immediately but looks somewhere between amused and resigned.

"You have to talk to one to learn at home instead of going to classes. She should mostly ask you school questions, but it shouldn't cause any problems if you're strange to her, after everything I said." He looks a touch amused as well. "And it'll just be once."

"Acceptable."

"Oh good." He lets the amusement leak into his voice. "Not sure what I'd do if it wasn't. Although I could probably think of something..."

"Yes, you seemed to do very well at handling those bureaucrats."

"Thank you, I think." A smile, then a confused shake of the head. "But God, that was strange. Maybe I don't quite know who I am after all..."

"Oh?"

"Well, you saw." He isn't sure how to explain it. "I try to... be normal, help people, not make them feel threatened. I spent the last three years like that, and it worked, and I liked it. But... you saw what I did, the moment it stopped working the way I wanted it to."