by Wendy Teller
"Do you know where that might be?"
"Not yet. Finding our home will be our first adventure."
"And the next one?"
"We'll have to see. My professor in Leipzig gave me a letter of introduction to a fellow, Oszkár Jászi. He's an editor of a journal, The Twentieth Century."
"What's it about."
"In general, it's about the best way to change Hungary, to turn it from an Oriental country to a modern Western country.” He looked at her, his lips turned down in a pretend frown. “I'll give you an issue, one that I have from my professor, if you promise your mother won't burn it."
She loved him for teasing her, but she wasn't going to let him know. "Funny."
He extracted a bundle from his pocket and smoothed it out. The cover was cream colored. Across the top, in bold letters, the words spelt out The Twentieth Century. The articles in this issue were listed below the title.
Ella read the first item, "SOCIALISM." She looked at Ede. "What's Socialism?"
"It is a way to organize society so that all people share in the wealth of the community."
"Is that possible?"
"Maybe."
"How would you do it?"
"I'm not sure, Kis Maria, of many questions." He was smiling at her, but she knew that he was uncomfortable, that he didn't have all the answers.
She sighed. She had not thought about society, about how it was organized. Her world had been languages and reading, Mother and how to defy her. But maybe this world, this new world, this world of change was what she needed.
Ede patted her knee.
"I'm not sure how to change our country. But, for me, the most important thing is the way we treat women."
"Really?"
"Yes. That's more than half the population, treated like servants... or maybe brood mares."
Ella thought of the chestnut mare.
"And if we could harness women's power, their brain power, their imagination, their talent...."
"Yes, yes."
"Well, that is what I want to do. And I know that is what you want to do. You've wanted it ever since you were four...."
"Maybe even before then."
He laughed. "I don't think changing women's role is so very complicated."
"Really?"
"Yes. Just educate women, allow them to have good careers, allow them to vote."
"Not complicated, but would people agree?"
"Probably not at first. But once you explain how it will make everyone's life better, that not just women will be better off, but men will be too, and children, and society as a whole. When people understand this, then they will agree. "
Ella wondered whether people would listen. Would Father listen? Probably not.
Father approved of Ede because he would be a lawyer. But would Ede have time for his project if he also was a lawyer?
"Can you do all this and be a lawyer too?"
"A lawyer?"
"Father said you were going to be a lawyer."
"Let him think that. We want a nice happy wedding, a quiet trip to Budapest, so we can start our real work."
She didn't think she could be happier.
Knitting
Mother and Ella settled in Ella's room. Mother started on the baby jacket, while Ella worked on the baby blanket.
"Yes, my daughter. You have changed since your betrothal. We should have done this long ago."
"I am happy."
It was true, but perhaps not for the reason Mother thought.
Now that Mother seemed mellow, Ella dared to ask a question. "Do we really need to make all these baby things? Babies don't need to come right away."
"It only takes nine months," Mother looked up at her smiling. "And you might not feel so well during those months."
She looked down at her work.
"Those terrible months."
"But, I thought there were ways to..." Ella wasn't sure of the right words, the words Ede had used, "to postpone the babies."
"Na." Mother shook her head. "No. I know there are people who say that. But they don't work."
She looked up at her daughter again, a scolding frown on her face. "Besides, those methods are a sin."
"Oh." Ella was not going to contradict her mother. Only 61 more days until the wedding.
"Ya." Mother consulted the pattern, written on a tired yellow scrap of paper. "A sin."
Mother's lips compressed as she looked at Ella. "Think of what happened to Therese."
"Oh, you mean that." Ella felt the weight of the necklace under her blouse and took courage from it. "But I thought that there were other ways."
Mother snorted. "Well, if the husband leaves you alone. Yes. But men will not do that."
She gave her daughter a knowing smile and shook her head. "Not healthy young men like Ede."
"Oh."
Mother looked beyond Ella, her smile fading.
"Men, when the mood arises, are beasts."
That seemed extreme to Ella. "Beasts?"
"Oh, my dear daughter, a woman's life is not...."
She dropped her knitting on her lap and took a handkerchief from her sleeve and wiped her eyes.
"Men are beasts."
Ella stared. She could not believe this. "Not Ede."
"Oh, my poor, poor dear. That is what I thought just before my wedding. Not my husband. Everyone thought he was such a kind, generous, gentle man."
Mother dabbed her eyes again.
"But he turned into something else."
Ella had never seen this side of her mother. She had never seen her cry, but now the soft sobs spilled out, one after another.
Mother inhaled, blew her nose and tucked her kerchief in her sleeve.
"Just listen to me, let him do whatever he wants, no matter how disgusting or sinful. He is bigger than you and stronger. If you resist he might...." She quivered as she let her breath out. "... he will hurt you."
Ella could not take her eyes off Mother. "Father?"
"Yes, your father." Her mother held her stare. "A beast!"
"A beast?" What had happened?
Mother took out her handkerchief again and dabbed her eyes.
"But let us talk of something more cheerful."
After stuffing the cloth up her sleeve, she picked up her knitting and began stitching the little jacket.
"Your dress will look stunning. You are quite beautiful my daughter."
She scanned Ella and smiled.
"I am proud of my beautiful daughter." She sighed. "But I am sorry you will live in Budapest, so far away. Just when we were becoming friends."
Ella swallowed.
She wanted to know what Father had done. She didn't believe her father could hurt anyone.
But why would her mother tell her this if it were not true? Ella had never known her to lie.
And Mother had cried. She had never seen Mother cry before.
"Yes, just when we are becoming friends you move away." Mother stopped stitching and spread the partially completed jacket on her knee, inspecting her work.
"Children are difficult."
Ella knew that meant her. "I'm sorry Mother."
Mother looked up and smiled. "Yes, yes, you were difficult, but you are changed now."
Again she stitched.
"But I mean something else. It's difficult. Your husband lies with you, then you are sick with child. Will your husband leave you alone, just because you are carrying his child and cannot keep food down? No. He demands his desires be met. Half of the time you lose the child. Maybe because of his demands?" Her eyes welled up.
It was as if a dam had been topped. Ella had never heard these things before, had never seen her mother as vulnerable.
Mother's words kept streaming forth, as if she were unable to stop them.
"But if the child comes, and it comes with pain, horrible wrenching pain, oceans of pain that sweep over you again and again and again. Because sex is a sin and God punishes, though I'm not sure why He punishes the
woman and not the man."
She dropped her work as her hand flew to her mouth. She crossed herself, her eyes closed.
"God forgive me."
Again the sobs, the mopping of the eyes. Ella rested her hands on her lap, her eyes fixed on Mother.
Again Mother brought herself under control with sighs, quivering as she exhaled.
"Let me tell you one thing. When you have a baby, get a wet nurse."
"A wet nurse?"
"Yes, yes." She pursed her lips. "A wet nurse and a nanny. That way you don't fall in love with your child."
"I see." But Ella didn't see. Why would a mother not want to love her child?
Like a little ray of sunshine peeking from the clouds, a gentle smile played on Mother's lips. "Did I ever tell you about my first, my little Erzsébet?"
Ella shook her head.
"I try not to think of her. She was a darling. Pudgy and sweet, with auburn curls."
Mother rubbed her hands along her skirt, looking at Ella.
"About the same color as yours, maybe just a touch lighter. Hair so curly that it shone like a halo when the sun struck it. She had a dimple when she laughed and was so shy. She hid in my skirts whenever anyone else approached her."
"She sounds lovely."
"She was." Mother's face brightened. "I loved her so. She was about two, strong and healthy. We did so much together, I almost didn't need a nanny. And I nursed her. From the day she was born. I loved looking at her when she sucked, her little eyes shut tight when she was tiny, and then as she got older, her gaze would wander. Sometimes she would look into my eyes, as if she were saying thank you."
"So you liked nursing her?"
"Yes."
"Then why are you telling me to use a wet nurse when I have a baby?"
"Because."
Mother withdrew her handkerchief again, which must have been sodden by now.
"Because."
Her body shook.
"Because Father wanted another child, he wanted a boy. He said he needed a boy to help him with his business. He was angry with me, saying I was doing something so that I would not conceive again." Mother gulped and coughed. "Of course, I would not do that. It is sinful."
She looked past Ella, tears on her cheeks, her chin, on her bodice. She no longer tried to mop them up.
"But why were you not getting pregnant?"
"Yes, yes. Father consulted the doctor and asked just that. The doctor said I might not be conceiving because I was still nursing Erzsébet."
"Really? Is that true?"
"Oh, I don't know."
Mother sobbed so, Ella took out her handkerchief and went to her, wiping her face.
Mother tried to smile, but that seemed only to cause more wails. "All I know is that Father commanded me to stop nursing her."
Ella put her handkerchief in Mother's hand and fetched a glass of water from the wash stand.
Mother tried to drink a bit, but she coughed, the liquid running down her chin. She pushed the glass back into Ella's hand.
"I tried to sneak in little sips when Father was at work, so he paid the nanny to watch me. Can you imagine? The nanny was spying on me! I tried to let her go, but Father would not allow it."
The sobs erupted again, one after another.
"So I stopped." Dabbing and sobs. "Erzsébet didn't understand. She cried. She wouldn't eat. She grew thin and pale."
Mother put her head in her hands, sobbing, her knitting falling to the floor.
Ella strained to hear Mother's next words.
"She died within the month. I cried and would not speak to my husband. I would not allow him near me. He had killed my Erzsébet. In the end he... well he had his way with me. And I was pregnant."
Mother’s sobs where constant now and seemed beyond control.
Ella sat beside her mother, holding her and rocking her.
Nightmares
Mother had finally calmed down and Ella asked Cook for tea. Mother smiled at Ella, a weak smile, almost as if she were ashamed.
She tried to take up the knitting again, but her hand shook so that Ella suggested they stop for today.
"I will finish this before the wedding," she said, not knowing how she could possibly do that, but it seemed to calm Mother.
Mother's confession made Ella uncomfortable. She wanted her angry grim mother back, someone she could hate, but now she had to console her.
"I am sorry, Mother, for the trouble I have caused."
Mother nodded. Weakly.
Ella said, "I love you.”
Maybe this was not true, but telling her so would not hurt anything and might help somehow.
Mother's face was pale. The earlier blush from her crying had drained away. "I love you too, Daughter."
They passed the afternoon quietly, Ella reading to Mother from the bible.
Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.
Take my yoke upon you, and learn of me; for I am meek and lowly in heart: and ye shall find rest unto your souls.
For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.
Ella had never read to Mother before, but it seemed to give her comfort and it allowed Ella to escape into her own thoughts.
That night, as Ella lay in bed, she tried to forget her mother's words, but they raced through her mind again and again.
"Do whatever he says, no matter how disgusting or sinful."
She rolled over adjusting her pillows.
"He is stronger and bigger than you."
She touched the necklace, still around her neck.
He was stronger than she was, but he was her friend. He had always been her friend. He would not hurt her.
"A healthy young man like Ede has his appetites."
She turned on her other side.
Yes, Ede had admitted his appetites. And he had said that was the reason he wanted to marry her.
"No matter how disgusting and sinful."
Ella didn't care about sinful. She wasn't sure what was sinful.
She thought of the stallion's penis, long and straight. She thought of the mare: calm, quiet, her head a little down, her neck stretched out. She did not seem to mind. Or was the mare just following Mother's advice: do whatever he says because he is bigger and stronger than you and can hurt you?
No.
She rubbed her thumb across the emerald, feeling the edges of the stone's facets.
No.
Ede was different. He would never hurt her.
But what of Father? Did she think Father would hurt her?
Or her mother?
Ede's words echoed: "Maybe our children will have such beautiful eyes."
A tear dribbled down her chin.
She knew now she could not marry, could not have children.
She had to escape.
She shivered as she rose from bed and put on her blouse and skirt. She threw some underthings into her satchel, put in her Huckleberry Finn and Tale of Two Cities.
She saw the shawl Ede had given her. She hesitated. Should she take that too, given to her by a man?
Somehow she wanted it, knew that it would comfort her, even if it was from the man she was running from. She put it on top of the other things.
She would leave. She would run away, like she had planned.
But she must not go to Budapest. Ede would go to Budapest.
She would have to go to Vienna.
She needed money, for the train ticket and some more, for... she wasn't sure what would happen once she got to Vienna. She would have to find a job.
As a nanny?
Or a tutor?
She could find something.
But she needed money. She took the pile of coins she had "saved" from her marketing trips. That would not be enough.
Where could she get more money?
Her fingers felt the key fob Miklos had given her.
The keys!
Mother had a drawer full of money for the household expenses. It m
ight even have more than usual because of the upcoming wedding. She would take the money in the drawer.
Stealing was wrong.
Should she really do this?
Mother's words echoed in her head. "He had his way with me."
She must leave. She couldn't marry. Stealing was wrong, but forcing marriage was a worse wrong.
She took the fob, looking for a small key that might fit the money drawer.
The Loan
The oil lamp cast a gloomy light in the pantry as Ella set to work trying keys. She hardly dared to breathe, worried that she might wake Cook or Maid, who slept in the little room next to the pantry.
Her hands grew sweaty as she tried one key after another. None of them fit that well, so she wasn't sure she had rejected the key that would open the drawer. She looked at the fob. There were only two small keys left. She tried the next key. It slid in almost all the way, but then stopped. She rocked it this way and that, but it would go no farther.
What would she do if she couldn't get into the drawer? Might she force it open?
No!
That would make too much noise. It would wake Cook or Maid for sure.
She took the last key and slid it into the hole. It went in. All the way. She inhaled and held her breath. She turned it slowly hearing the latch release. She exhaled, feeling her shoulders relax.
She slid the drawer open. It had bills and change. She riffled through the stack of bills. Should she take it all? No. Mother would realize right away that something was wrong. Let her count it. Let her take her time and count it. That would give Ella more time to escape.
Taking a stack of bills, the larger denominations, she closed the drawer without bothering to lock it. She tiptoed back to her room.
Mother's sobs from yesterday still echoed in her mind. She was done with all that. Goodbye to the fights and the craziness. She would go to Vienna and start a new life, a reasonable, rational, good life.
A whimper escaped her lips.
She was wrong to steal this money. And Mother might blame Cook or Maid for taking it. Then they would be let go.
Like Therese.
