Uncle Jerzy and Uncle Wojtan had not spoken to one another in over thirty years. Through three decades of family gatherings, weddings, birthdays, holidays and funerals, they had taken great pains to avoid one another. Their respective wives, Aunt Mila and Aunt Ewa, were great friends. Their children grew up together. But Uncle Jerzy and Uncle Wojtan refused to break their silence.

To young Shimi, this was absurd. His uncles were brothers, born of the same compassionate Ludovicz blood. He asked Aunt Mila, who didn’t remember what transpired all those years ago, before Shimi was born. “I think Woji cut off Jerzy, but if you asked me to swear, I couldn’t.” Aunt Ewa merely shook her head. “Jerzy stopped talking to Wojtan over a small matter. I don’t recall.”

Unsatisfied, Shimi went to his mother, his uncles’ only sister. “Mama, what happened so long ago, that Uncle Jerzy and Uncle Woji don’t speak to each other?”

His mother shook her head. “I was so young, no one told me. Why don’t you ask them yourself?”

So a week later, Shimi went to Uncle Jerzy. “Why won’t you speak to Uncle Wojtan?”

Jerzy stroked his moustache. “I think… I think it was a disagreement over a chess game, I’m not sure.”

“Do you still care?”

Jerzy shrugged. “Not especially.”

“Now that you are older, with grandchildren of your own, would you like to talk to your brother?”

Jerzy smiled. “I would, but after all these years, I doubt he’d want a conversation with me, Shimi.”

Later that evening, Shimi visited Uncle Wojtan, who replied, “I remember. I cheated at chess. Moved pieces while he wasn’t looking.” He smiled at the memory. “We used to have such fun playing that game.”

“Would you like to talk to your brother again?”

“Oh, Shimi, you have the soul of an angel. But Jerzy would never want to speak to me.”

Two days later, Shimi invited Uncle Jerzy over for lunch. There was a knock at the door as soon as they sat down. Wojtan had been invited, too.

Wojtan stood at the door a moment, his hat in his hands. “Hello, Jerzy. You look well.”

For a moment, Shimi thought his older uncle wasn’t going to reply. But then he nodded. “So do you, Woji.”

Shimi brought out the lunch he had prepared for the two of them. Then he retreated to his bedroom, to give his uncles some privacy.

In the dining room, Jerzy and Woji ate their lunch in silence.

Companionable silence. After they finished their bread and cheese and wine, they sat at Shimi’s chess table and played a game, no cheating. When Jerzy won, they stood up and hugged each other tightly. Woji pointed at the clock – it was time for him to return to the office. Jerzy nodded and waved goodbye, his eyes moist. No need for feeble utterance, reassurances. All was well.

In the bedroom, Shimi wept. He hadn’t heard his uncles speak a word.

Copyright 2006 Amy Frushour Kelly. All rights reserved.

Reproduction by any means prohibited without prior written consent.