by Wendy Teller
Ella was surprised. Zsuzsi never complained.
Nanny stood. "You may take the spool and yarn with you." She smoothed her dress. "You can return the spool when you have finished your cord."
Zsuzsi turned to Nanny, her eyes wide. "May I?"
Nanny chuckled. "Of course."
Mutti nodded at Nanny. "How kind of you!" She looked at her daughter. "Say thank you to Nanny."
Zsuzsi muttered a distracted thank you as she stuffed the cord, spool, and yarn into the little blue bag Nanny had given her.
When they had gone, Ella ran down the hall to Miklos' room. The boys sat on the floor and were lazily tossing a red ball back and forth. She followed the ball with her eyes. She wanted to hold it, feel its surface. She stepped between the boys.
"Let me have the ball!"
Miklos threw the ball high in the air, so that Ella couldn't reach it.
Ede caught it and both boys laughed.
Ella fought to hold back her tears. Ede gently tossed the ball to Ella. She caught it. Surprised at how easily she'd won the ball, she rubbed both her hands over its surface.
Miklos stood. "Give me that ball!"
Ella backed away from her brother hiding the ball behind her back. Miklos hadn't shared it with her, so she wasn't going to share it with him. He stepped toward her so she threw the ball to Ede, who tossed it back to Ella. Miklos glared at his friend then, his arm outstretched, tried to grab the ball.
Ella ran to the nursery, both boys following her. She turned when she was in her room and looked for Ede, but Miklos stood between them. His hand was out, reaching for the ball.
She threw the ball as hard as she could over Miklos' head. Miklos grabbed her hand just as she released it. She followed the ball's path with her eyes. Over Miklos. Over Ede. Against the corner of the room. Off the wall next to the bed. Against the oil lamp, which teetered and fell on the bed. A lick of yellow escaped. Smoke. Red. Yellow. A putrid smell, like the outhouse at Grandmother's farm.
Nanny dumped blankets on the flaming bed.
"What is going on here?" Mother's full figure filled the door, her fists on her hips.
"We've had an accident, ma'am."
Mother ran in, her hand fanning the smoke. "How on earth?"
Thinking back to that day, Ella laughed. How Mother fumed! And she remembered Father's alarmed voice from the hall.
"What's the smoke?"
Mother stepped back to let Father in.
"And the smell!" He coughed and sputtered. "Who did this?"
Nanny's face whitened. "The children came running in. Next thing I knew the oil lamp was on the bed." Her face, usually so cheerful, was drawn. "I had just lit it...."
Mother stepped forward. "Keep the children under control!"
Father glowered at Mother. "Enough, Mrs. Weisel!"
"The lamp set the featherbed on fire." Nanny looked down. "I... I threw all the blankets I could find on it." She glanced at the untidy heap, a bit of black peaked out from the pile of white embroidered blankets.
"You've done well Nanny!" Father smiled and patted her on the shoulder. "Without you the building might have burned down!"
He turned and scowled at the children. "Now, who would like to explain?"
"It was Miklos!" Ella's voice was loud and raspy. She had to get her words in before the boys did. "He threw the ball, and it hit the lamp."
Miklos stood tall, his lips tight, his hands balled in fists. "I did not." His chin jutted out. "It was Ella. She threw the ball."
"No." Ede's voice was calm. "I did it. I threw the ball." He shrugged, a quick smile flickering on his lips.
Ella stared. Why would Ede claim to be the guilty one?
Father chuckled. "Hmmm. I see. Three children. Three stories."
He stroked his chin and looked at Nanny. "Do you know what happened?"
"I was busy straightening up, sir. The children ran in, and the fire started."
Father nodded and turned back to the children. "Who is going to confess?"
Miklos shook his head. "Ede already confessed, Father."
Father's glare focused on Miklos. "So Ede did it?"
Miklos looked down and shook his head. "No. It was Ella."
Father eyes settled on Ella. "And you say...."
Ella stared back. She could not let Ede take the blame. She wanted Miklos to take the blame. "It was Miklos' fault. He knocked my hand...."
"See." Miklos shouted. "Ella did throw the ball."
Father nodded. "I see." Compressing his lips he nodded again. "You're all guilty."
Miklos blurted out, "What?"
"Yes. You are guilty, Miklos, for not playing nicely with your sister."
Miklos looked down.
" Ella, you not only threw the ball, but you knocked over the lamp."
Ella returned Father's stern stare, not blinking, not flinching.
"And, Ella, you lied."
Ella did not look down.
"Lying is a sin, Ella. Do not lie."
Ella wrinkled her nose, still staring at her father. She would not dare do this to Mother.
Father turned to Ede. "You lied too, Ede."
Ede looked down. "Yes, Uncle."
"Why did you lie?"
"Because, sir,...." Ede looked up at Father. "I thought it was a gentleman's duty to protect his lady."
Father chuckled.
Ella stared at Ede and stamped her foot. "I don't need to be protected." She clenched her fists. "I am not a lady. I am a girl." She pounded her feet on the floor. "And girls are just as good as boys."
Ella stomped her foot again, remembering that day, when she first realized Ede was her friend.
Learning to Read
Ede was her friend, even then, when she was only four and he was ten. Thinking of it now, it seemed incredible that he would spend time with a child so much younger than he, and a girl at that. But her four-year-old self realized he was the one who could help her get the things she wanted, and the first thing she wanted was to learn to read.
Ede and Miklos attended the Piarist boys’ school. The day after the fire, when the boys had returned from school, Ella went into Miklos' room. Ede lay on the bed, reading a book, and Miklos sat at the table, pen in hand, drawing.
"Ede, I want to show you something."
He looked up. "What?"
"I can't tell you. I have to show you."
He closed his book and followed Ella down the hall. She walked past the nursery, down the stairs, and into the salon.
"This mysterious object, it's not in the nursery?"
Ella wrinkled her nose. "It could be, but the nursery still smells like bad eggs."
She hadn't noticed the stink when she woke, but after breakfast, when she had gone back to her room, the smell of burnt wool, cotton, and feathers overwhelmed her. She had pleaded with Nanny to go outside, and they managed to stay away most of the day.
Ella didn't want to sleep there tonight, but Mother had said she had to, that Maid had aired the room and all the burnt linens had been removed. When Ella still complained, Mother said she had to suffer the consequences of her actions. It was, after all, her fault the room smelt, and she could consider this as she lay in bed. Ella knew any further complaints would lead to punishment, so she said no more.
Ella picked up a book and her pencil and paper, which lay on the table next to the sofa.
Ede pointed to the book.
"Where did you get that?"
"From Father's study."
Ede's brows lifted. "Does Uncle know you took one of his books?"
Ella shook her head.
"Well, maybe you should put it back, before he comes home."
Ella shook her head again.
"He might be angry you took it."
"I don't care." She compressed her lips and furrowed her brows. "I need to learn how to read and write, like you and Miklos."
"How are you planning to do that?"
"With Father's book."
She sat on
the sofa and opened the book, looking at a page. She stared up at Ede.
"And you're going to help me."
"OK."
Ede turned the book around and replaced it in Ella hands. "This is the proper way up."
She ran her fingers across the page.
He scratched his head. "Why don't we use one of my books and put Uncle's book back, so he won't get mad?"
"OK."
Ede replaced the book on the self in Father's study and retrieved one of his own from Miklos' room.
Looking back on it, Ella wondered whether Father would really have been upset. She hadn't considered it, but, of course, Ede would. That was Ede, always thinking about how other people would react, even when he was only ten.
That day, so long ago, they settled on the sofa, the book on Ella's lap, Ede so close to her she could smell the scent of fresh pine, the smell of his father's lumber yard. He pointed to a letter on the page.
"Here's an 'a'. That's a little 'a'. There is a big 'A'."
Ella ran her finger across the page.
"There's another 'a'. And another." She looked up at him.
"Yes!"
He nodded and took up the pencil and paper.
"You draw a little 'a' like this." He wrote an 'a' on the paper and showed it to her. "Can you write one?"
She took the paper and, biting her lower lip and gripping the pencil, copied Ede's 'a.' She looked at him.
"That's great!"
He took the paper and drew again. "Here's a big 'A.' Can you write a big 'A?'"
She took the paper and drew. She looked at him.
"What are you two doing here?"
They looked up into Mother's scowling face.
Ella grimaced. "The nursery stinks."
"And whose fault is that?"
Mother's skirts swished as she entered the room.
"I don't want you here, dirtying the salon. It's for company. Next thing you know you'll start a fire here!"
"Auntie, we are being very careful." It was true. They hadn't disturbed a thing.
"I should hope!"
Mother looked down on the children.
"In any case, Ede needs to go home for tea. Ede's father and brother are back from their travels, and he needs to see them."
"No!" Ella kicked her legs as she yelled. "He is teaching me to read, and he is staying here 'til I learn."
Ede hugged her. "Ella, you've already learned all about 'a.'"
"No. We just got started!"
"It's OK, Ella. You practice your 'a's. Tomorrow we will work on 'b'."
Kis Maria
Thinking about that day, when she began to learn to read, Ella wandered down the hall, past Miklos' room and her own. She took the stairs to the main floor of the apartment, walked across the hall into the salon. Three large windows looked out on Fő út, Main Street. A sofa, stuffed and buttoned, sat against the wall opposite the windows, with two matching chairs facing it. Above the sofa was a painting done some years ago of Clara, Miklos, and herself. She had never liked that painting.
But she loved the sofa, where she and Ede had spent many hours, a book on her lap, her finger tracing the words, he helping when she stumbled. He had taught her to read Hungarian and German and Latin too. He said teaching her Latin helped him remember his lessons. Then, when Clara was born and Alexa came to be Ella's tutor, Alexa taught both of them English.
She thought of the day she and Ede were reading the Bible, a way to study for her catechism class. She remembered reading the unforgettable sentence:
How can this be, since I know not man?
Ella didn't understand. "The Virgin Mary didn't know any men? She didn't know her father?" Ella looked at Ede, hoping for an explanation.
Ede's brows furrowed as he looked past Ella.
Thinking back to that day, Ede's willingness to explain astounded Ella. She wondered whether he realized he was telling her forbidden secrets. Probably he didn't.
That day, Ede looked past her and then refocused on her.
"I do understand." He sighed. "But it's going to take a little explaining...."
"Yes." Ella's fingers rolled a strand of her hair. "I'm listening."
"OK." He smiled at her. "Remember when Zsarátnok had her foal?"
"Of course."
Zsarátnok, the chestnut mare, her favorite horse, had a beautiful black colt just before they had to come home from Grandmother's that summer.
"And remember when Ferenc put Lovag in the corral with Zsarátnok last summer."
Ella nodded.
"Remember what Lovag did?"
Ella pursed her lips, remembering the scene.
"Lovag was planting a seed in Zsarátnok."
Ella squinted. "What?"
"Just like Grandmother plants her tomato seeds at Easter, to grow tomato plants."
Ella's brows knitted.
"How did Lovag do that?"
"When he put his penis in Zsarátnok, he planted his seed."
Ella stared.
"And that seed grew into little Tábornok."
Ella loved Tábornok with his long wobbly legs, his wispy tail and his blue black coat. "Yuck." How could Tábornok be the result of Lovag's penis?
"I know." Ede nodded. "It is yucky." He held her eyes. "But it is true."
Ella hugged herself and her body shook. "Yuck. Yuck. Yuck."
Ede sighed. "Yes. But that is how a baby horse is made." He bit his lower lip. "And that is how a baby person is made too."
"No!" Ella fisted her hands and shook her head.
Ede nodded not letting her deny this truth. "That's how Clara was made."
Ella closed her eyes, imagining her parents....
"That was how you were made."
She willed the image of Mother and Father out of her mind.
"And that was how I was made too."
Ella opened her eyes. She wanted not to think of these things. Better to think of her catechism.
"What does this have to do with Mary not knowing any man, not even her father?"
"When Mary says she doesn't know any men, she means that she has never...." Ede looked past Ella and then turned his gaze to her again. "It means that no man had done that to her."
"Oh."
"That the holy spirit planted a seed in her without...." Ede cleared his throat. "Well, Jesus was planted without that happening and that's why Mary is called 'virgin'."
"Oh." Ella felt comforted. "So I could have a baby without...."
Ede chuckled. "I don't know...."
"Well, if Mary could, why can't I?"
"Well…." Ede's rich laugh filled the room. "God loved Mary very much. She was special."
"Maybe, if I were called Mary, God would love me just as much and then...."
"I'm not sure that would be enough."
"Maybe not enough, but it would at least be a start."
Ella pushed the book to the side, stood and faced Ede, her hands on her hips. "Call me Mary."
"Yes, Little Mary." He ruffled her hair. "Yes, Kis Maria!"
Ella sat on the sofa, smiling as she remembered her nickname, Kis Maria. Only Ede called her Kis Maria.
But her smile faded, when she thought of Mother. Mother had had a different reaction to her plan.
Virgin Mary
She remembered Mother standing at the door to her room, hands on hips, a frown twisting her face. The look was similar to the look she had had this morning, when Therese tried to tighten the corset. Mother's shrill voice was impatient.
"Ella, are you ready to go to your catechism class?"
Ella sat at the table reading the Bible.
"Ella!" Mother's voice pierced the quiet of the room. "Answer me!"
Ella slowly lifted her head and looked at Mother. "There is no Ella here. I'm Mary. I'm Virgin Mary!"
Mother pushed Ella out of her chair. "What nonsense is this?"
"I'm not Ella. Call me Virgin Mary."
"I have no time for this." She shoved Ella out of the room a
nd toward the stairs. "Get your coat on. You'll be late for Father Joseph. You don't want to be late!"
Ella descended the stairs several steps ahead of Mother's hand.
"I don't need to go to catechism class. I call myself Virgin Mary. God will love me and I don't need catechism or Father Joseph or any of that, because I call myself Virgin Mary and God loves me."
Mother grabbed her shoulder and twirled her around. "What nonsense is this?"
"I read it in the Bible. God loved Virgin Mary so he gave her Jesus and she didn't need to know any man." Ella smiled at her mother hoping she would understand. "So if I call myself Virgin Mary, God will love me and let me have a baby, like Clara, without knowing a man."
Mother's swift slap stung Ella's cheek.
Ella held her hands at her side, not giving Mother the satisfaction of seeing her touch her tingling cheek. "It's in the Bible."
She pulled on her coat and looked back at Mother. "And it's in the catechism too." She smiled at Mother, thinking she must know what was in the catechism.
"It says that Mary never knew a man." She buttoned her coat. "That means a man never put his penis in her."
Mother's second slap stung more than the first, but Ella balled her hands, letting her finger nails dig into her palms. Her cheek throbbed.
"Who told you that?"
Ella stared at her Mother blinking away the tears brimming in her eyes. "Ede explained all of it to me."
Mother's hand shook as she raised it for a third strike, but she looked toward the heavens instead. "Oh, Gabriella!"
Ella knew Mother meant Ede's dead mother, the woman Ella was named after.
"Gabriella, I promised you I would look after your son." She exhaled, shaking her head. "But this!"
They walked along Fő út in silence.
Ella decided it was best to keep her name-change plans to herself given Mother's reaction. Zsuzsi had told her Father Joseph would use a cane on what she called "sinners." That was another reason to keep her name change secret. Ella knew her lessons and replied to Father's questions when asked but otherwise sat quietly.
Miklos was waiting for her outside the church after class. "Well, hello, Virgin Mary."
