by Wendy Teller
"Where are you going?"
Without looking at her, he said, "To find Therese."
He was gone.
And the door was open.
She could leave. But where would she go?
And how was it that Miklos had keys?
Maybe she should leave now, while the door was open. She grasped a strand of her hair and slid it between her fingers.
Abortion? She could go to Father's study and look it up in the dictionary.
She looked over at Therese's empty bed, the bed with the stain, the stain, which had grown darker.
An abortion must be serious. Mother had sent her to her room many times, but she had never, ever locked her in before. If she went to Father's study she might run into Mother. She had seen Mother angry often, but today she shook, her voice snarled with fury.
Better not to provoke her further.
Abortion.
She could figure this out. Abortion sounded like the Latin noun abortionem. The verb would be aboriri. Ab would be away from, down, off. Oriri would be rise, get up. appear, become visible, come to exist, originate, born. Away from exist. Away from originate. Away from born. Away from born, away from born....
Was Therese pregnant?
Ella opened Therese's drawer and looked through the contents. A few scraps of paper, a pen, a battered Bible, a letter. A letter! A letter in French, from some woman. A friend perhaps.
Ella began to read:
"Here it is very bad. We have little to eat. Do not think to come here with mouths to feed." Maybe Therese had written to ask for help? Mouths to feed? Not a mouth, but mouths. Plural mouths. Would that be Therese? And a baby?
She turned back to the letter. "Would the church help? Or your man? Would he marry you? Or pay for a..." and here was a word she did not know: ‘avortement.’
Like the English avoid?
"The church says it is a sin. But the church does not have to feed and clothe it."
What sin was that?
"I have had several. Not fun. But better than a baby."
Yes, Therese was pregnant!
"You bleed. You feel sick, like a bad period, like giving birth. But not so bad."
Ella dropped the letter and looked over at Therese's bed. That was it. Therese was pregnant and she did something to get rid of the pregnancy. And she came home and bled. Mother knew exactly what was going on. That was why she called her a hussy. And she must have told Mother about Ella's meetings with Ede.
It all made sense.
She smiled.
It all made sense.
Her eyes scanned the bed and the stain. It made terrible sense. She put her hand over her mouth. It made terrible, terrible sense.
Poor Therese! Mother had let her go, for sure. And where would she go? She had written to her friend – or was it her sister – who didn't want her. Could she go to the church? Probably. That would be what Ella would do if she were Therese.
Or maybe she would marry Miklos, if Father would allow it.
She could not imagine marrying Miklos. Sarcastic, caustic Miklos.
But maybe that would be better than the church.
Ella's eyes wandered back to the open door.
She could leave right now. Where would she go if she were to run away? Not to the church. She was not pregnant! No, she would go to Ede. Ede with his sweet, sweet kisses. She would marry him and they would be happy together. Maybe even Mother and Father would be happy. Ede could support a family. He could marry. He had said so. It would be perfect. They would marry and move to Budapest, far away from Mother. They would live together and work together and they would kiss and....
She thought of the horses. The mare stretched her neck, her head a little low.
Yes, they would kiss and they would make love. Did the mare like the stallion on her? She didn't seem to object. Maybe it would be nice. Ede said it was nice, said they could avoid having children.
Ella stopped pacing.
Avoid having children?
Like abortion?
Was that what he meant?
No.
She would not ‘avortement’ having children.
That would not happen.
She closed the door.
Miklos Brings News
Ella felt a breath on her cheek. She opened her eyes and looked up into Miklos' troubled face. "What's wrong?"
Miklos placed his oil lamp on the bed cabinet. "I found her."
She sat up. "Therese?"
"Yes, yes. Therese."
"Is she all right?"
"No. Not unless you believe she's going to heaven."
Ella pulled her covers around her. "She is...."
"Yes, she's dead."
"What...?"
"I went to our place, our place in the forest...." He walked over to the window and looked out at the gloom.
"I told her to meet me there if we needed to…." He rubbed his arm across his eyes. "Well, if things didn't go well with the…." He swiveled around. "If they didn't go well with the abortion...."
He recrossed the room and sank to Therese's bed. "I should never have gone on that wild goose chase. Father told me to go to Nagyrécse. To a customer. To pick up something they did not like and give them a replacement. He said it was most important to go, right then."
Miklos slammed his fist into the bed. "He insisted I had to go."
Ella had never seen Miklos so defenseless, his sneering confidence gone.
"Of course, the man in Nagyrécse knew nothing about the replacement." He raised his fist again and forced it into the mattress. "It was a ruse, a way to take me away when Therese needed me. It was Mother's idea to get me out of the way when Therese needed me."
This rambling didn't make sense to Ella, but she said nothing.
In the light of Miklos' lamp Ella saw dark blotches on his pants, on his shirt, on his face and his hands.
"She's dead, Ella. Dead." A tear glistened on his cheek. "She was there. Waiting for me. In a pool of blood."
He put hands over his face.
Ella did not know what to say. "I'm sorry."
The room was silent but for his soft sobs.
"You must have loved her." Ella never thought Miklos could love, but maybe he could.
Miklos let his hands drop. "I love her. Yes! I love her!" He shook his head, again drawing his arm across his eyes. "I loved her."
"I'm sorry." Ella sat next to him and wrapped her arms around him. "So sorry."
He embraced her and held her close, his breast heaving with each sob, his warm tears spilling onto her shoulder.
His cries increased so that Ella feared he would wake their parents. Too bad, she thought. If they woke and found them, what crime had they committed? They were mourning the death of a... What would Ella call Therese? Not a friend, but, well, never mind. They were mourning the death of Miklos' love. That was enough. And if Mother could not understand, if it sent her into another spasm of fury, Ella didn't care.
She rocked Miklos to and fro, as she had rocked Clara when she had cried over her childish tragedies. But this was an adult tragedy, not a broken toy or a skinned knee.
Miklos' cries were softer now, his body relaxed. He exhaled a shuddered breath, sat up, withdrew a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his face.
"Thank you, Sister."
Sister? She could not remember him calling her sister. It was so formal. But not unkind.
Ella pulled away from him. Somehow what had seemed natural before now felt awkward. "I'm sorry."
"Thank you." He stood, straightening his clothes, noticing the stains on his hands. Looking further he saw the blood on his clothes. He started to the door.
"You better lock the door when you leave," Ella said. "You don't want Mother to know you have been here, that you have keys...."
"I don't care what Mother knows. She killed Therese. She can go to hell."
Mother's Plans
"Morning, Miss."
Cook placed a tray holding coffee,
rolls and jam on Ella's table. She seemed not to see the blood stains, not just on Therese's bed but now also on Ella's night dress.
Mother stood at the door watching all, saying nothing. When she left, she did not lock the door. Ella could only guess what had happened.
Maid came in later, bringing fresh linens. Again Mother stood at the door. Maid said nothing as she changed the beds and tidied up.
When Maid and Mother left, Ella settled at her table, Huck Finn before her, trying to read. Her eyes followed the words, each word clear, but she was unable to concentrate enough to put them together into a sentence.
Pictures of Therese on her bed, the red blotch growing beside her, intruded. The feeling of Miklos' stiff body heaving with cries would not allow her to think.
Finally she closed the book and took up her knitting. The rhythm of her work calmed her: pierce fabric, twine yarn, pull through, pierce fabric, twine yarn, pull through. It was unthinking work that allowed yesterday's images to dart here and there, not calming her, but making it bearable.
Miklos brought her dinner.
Miklos alone.
Mother did not follow.
"Thank you, Sister."
Sister rang in her ears again, strange but welcome.
Miklos placed the tray on the table and sat down in the other chair.
"You were kind last night."
She stared at her brother, a different brother, a kind and considerate brother. Maybe this was the Miklos Therese loved.
"You're welcome."
She brought a spoonful of stew to her lips. It was too hot.
"Are you all right?"
She blew on the stew and looked at him.
"Yes, yes." He smiled, a kind smile, not a sarcastic smile. "I am all right."
"What happened with Mother? She isn't locking me in anymore."
"I told her that I had keys, that I could unlock the door anytime I wanted."
"You did?"
She took a bite of the meat. It tasted off. She placed the spoon back in the bowl.
"What did she say?"
He looked away. "She just sputtered."
Miklos' sarcastic grin spread across his face. "She can't do much to me. Father needs me. He won't let Mother get in the way."
Ella considered Miklos' statement. He had power where she had none. She picked up a roll and bit into it.
Miklos’s face relaxed into a kinder look."They sent Clara off to Grandmother's."
Ella nodded. Of course they did. They didn't want Clara to know what was happening. But she would figure it out. She was a clever little thing.
He leaned back and reached into his pocket. "I brought you a little present."
She looked up. "A present?"
"Yes." He held up a fob with a dozen keys. "Your very own set."
"Oh!"
"Let me explain what they are." He rattled them off: this to the china cabinet, this to the silver drawer, and on and on.
"I don't think I can remember all of them."
"It doesn't matter. If you want to open something, just try them until you find the right one. In general the small keys are to drawers and cabinets, the large ones are to doors."
She nodded, putting the bread back on the tray and taking the fob, looking at each key.
She looked up at him. "Does Mother know I have these?"
"No."
She nodded.
"And I have some other news for you."
"Other news?"
"Mrs. Farkas was here."
Mrs. Farkas, the matchmaker, the fox-like matchmaker.
Miklos stared at her. "And Mother Mary Theresa."
Ella exhaled, her body sagging. "So if they can't marry me off, they will send me to a convent?"
Miklos nodded.
She had a secret weapon. Ede.
But why hadn't he spoken to Father yet?
Ella's Plans
The next morning, Ella stood at the window looking out, her hand in her pocket, fingering the keys. The bright sun promised another hot, sticky day.
She would have to leave. Ede had not asked Father. But why?
Did he change his mind? Had Father refused him? Or maybe Mother had put up some objection. She didn't know. But she couldn't stay and let Mother decide her fate. She had to leave.
She wouldn't marry some old man that Mother thought appropriate. She thought of the bachelors Zsuzsi had mentioned, repulsive old men.
And she wouldn't go into a convent, even if that would be better than marrying Mother's choice.
She had a little time to think through her plans. Weddings did not happen overnight.
But maybe being sent to a convent did?
She didn't know. She couldn't think of anyone who was whisked away to a nunnery. Her cousin Irma was in a convent, but she was at least 15 years older than Ella and Ella couldn't remember when she had gone or why.
She thought of Irma's rough red hands.
She had better escape now.
Would she go to Ede? Even if Father or Mother had refused him, maybe he would still run away with her.
No. She didn't want to be in his debt.
He said he wanted to marry.
If he did he could follow her.
He was going to Budapest. That was the obvious thing to do, go to Budapest.
Would Ede find her in Budapest?
He was smart. He would find her.
Or maybe she should tell Miklos of her plans?
Miklos. She didn't know what to make of Miklos.
Her fingers slid over the cool metal of the keys. She was happy to have his gift. But did she trust him? Maybe he was happy to have her gone.
No.
She was being unkind.
Or maybe she should tell Ede.
But how?
If Clara were here, she could carry a message.
But Clara had been sent to Grandmother's, until the tempest passed, she guessed. Maybe Clara would have a good time at Grandmother's. Maybe she would see a stallion mount a mare.
Stop it.
No time for bitterness.
Think.
How could she tell Ede? Miklos was the only route. She didn't trust Miklos.
No that was an excuse.
She didn't want to tell Ede. She wasn't sure of Ede. His kisses were sweet, but something inside, some instinct told her she must do this by herself.
She thought of the abortion, the image of Therese on her bed, the red stain spreading.
She would leave by herself. She would go to Budapest. Ede could find her there, if he truly wanted to.
How would she get to Budapest?
She would take the train! No problem. A train ran from Nagykanizsa to Budapest.
But what would the stationmaster say. "Why, Miss Weisel, going to Budapest alone?"
She could see his brow wrinkled in the question, his eyes sparkling with malicious light.
She would have to have a good answer. He must know about Therese's death. All Nagykanizsa knew by now.
"Yes, yes. My Aunt Ilona has been unwell and asked that we come to her. But Mother is ill."
She could let that dangle. Mr. Stationmaster would assume it was the distress of Therese's death that caused Mother to be "ill."
But then why would Ella not stay with Mother?
Good question.
That should confuse Mr. Stationmaster. He wouldn't ask more questions.
Aunt Ilona, Mother's older sister, did live in Budapest, but Ella had no intention of seeing her. Still, in case Mr. Stationmaster knew of Aunt Ilona, this would make her story sound true.
And it would mislead her parents if they tried to find her.
So, hopefully, she had stopped Mr. Stationmaster's questions.
She would ask for a ticket to Budapest.
She probably should buy a round-trip ticket. Ella wasn't sure. She could say she only needed a one-way ticket, that she wasn't sure how she would return. Maybe Aunt Ilona would come back with her and she wasn't sure how the
y would come or by what route. She needn't tell the stationmaster this, only if he asked why she wanted a one-way ticket.
So she would buy a one-way ticket to Budapest.
How much would it cost?
She had no idea.
Where would she stay once she got to Budapest?
Blank.
Maybe she would go to the church and ask to stay there until she could find a job? Would that lead to a convent?
She sighed. She must not go to the church.
She must find a job. What kind of job could she find?
She knew what she wanted. She wanted to be a translator. But how could she manage that?
Blank.
So many things she did not know.
Maybe it didn't matter. Maybe she could figure this out once she was in Budapest. The important thing was to get to Budapest. She would take the train. She would need to pay for the ticket. She didn't know how much it would cost.
She smiled. She knew the price of a pork roast or a few grams of paprika or a kilo of potatoes. But she had no idea how much a train ticket to Budapest cost.
Could she find out? She must plan this, so she was not throwing money at the stationmaster. That would look suspicious. How could she find that out?
Miklos would know, but did she dare ask him, let him know her plans? She would have to, unless she could find a better way.
And even if she did know how much it would be, how would she pay for it?
She thought of the pile of coins she had skimmed off her shopping at the market. But surely that would not be enough. And she couldn't pay for the ticket with a pile of change, even if she had enough. That would look suspicious too.
This plan of hers was not working. She wrapped her arms around herself and stared out the window.
Father to the Rescue
It was late afternoon when Father entered Ella's room, his step lighter than usual.
"Hello, my princess." He smiled, his eyes sparkling. "I have wonderful news for you!"
"Oh." It had happened so quickly? She doubted Father would be so pleased if she was to be sent to a convent. Or would he? Surely he didn't think Ella, his rebellious daughter, would be happy in a convent. No. It must be a husband. The only question was who.
