Hungarian Rhapsody

by Wendy Teller

  The boy stopped and stared at her. "You know Latin?"

  She smiled and nodded.

  "Well, then, socialism comes from the word sociare."

  Ella nodded. "To combine or share."

  "That's right."

  "But it also sounds like society."

  "Yes, yes. Maybe it is not that easy."

  She felt like she didn't understand at all.

  "And what about bourgeoisie? What does bourgeoisie mean?"

  "The people who own the means of production. The factory owners."

  That would mean Father was a member of the bourgeoisie, which, she supposed meant she was also. Would that mean that his workers would rebel against him?

  And where did this boy stand in all this?

  She didn't want to tell Mihály she was a member of the bourgeoisie.

  "What would I be then? I don’t work in a factory or on the land, but I also don't own a factory."

  He grinned. "You are a Lady of a Different Sort!"

  Ella shook her head. She didn't want to be rude to this young fellow who was helping her, but she hated his answer. He was dodging her question and it was a serious question.

  But she was irritable. She was hungry and tired. She probably wouldn't understand if he tried to explain.

  They walked on in silence.

  Tante Cecile

  Ella and Mihály turned onto a bigger street, with trees planted along the walkway. They passed a little park. A sturdy church stood opposite the park. They crossed the street to a large building with stores on the ground floor.

  Mihály opened a door, revealing an elegant lobby. They took the stairs up to the third floor.

  Entering the apartment, Mihály led the way to the salon where his mother, a stout woman, slouched on a sofa, smoking a cigarette.

  A woman smoking!

  Mother said only disreputable women smoked.

  Who was this woman? Ella wondered whether she had come to a bad place. A dangerous place. Should she leave?

  She probably should, but she was exhausted, too tired to face the bustle of the unknown city below.

  "Mutti, this is Ella." Mihály placed his hand on Ella's back nudging her forward. "She is an interesting person. She's run away from home."

  With this strange introduction he disappeared.

  The woman snuffed out her cigarette in a crystal ashtray, looked at Ella, and spoke in an accented German.

  "You've run away from home?"

  Ella nodded.

  "Are you hungry?"

  Ella nodded again.

  Mihály's mother called for her maid and asked for a pot of coffee, rolls and cold cuts.

  If this was a bad place, Ella decided, she would figure out how to escape later.

  "Thank you, Ma'am."

  "Call me Tante Cecile." A gentle smile lit her round face.

  "Thank you, Tante Cecile."

  Cecile nodded. "I never ran away, but I worried my parents so much they sent me to Vienna."

  Her German had a Viennese flavor to it, but also a little something extra.

  "That's a little like running away."

  The maid set a tray of coffee, cream, and sugar on the table. Cecile poured coffee for Ella and motioned to the cream and sugar.

  "Thank you." Ella poured cream into her cup so that the liquid almost spilt over.

  "Now that you've run away, what are your plans?"

  Ella blushed, thinking of her murky plans.

  "I must find some way to support myself...." Mihály's words "women of a certain sort" echoed in her mind. "By tutoring or translating."

  "Good, good."

  "I can read, write and speak German, French, English, Latin, and, of course, Hungarian."

  "Good." Tante Cecile nodded, her gaze focused on Ella. "I know people who could use your talents.” A little giggle escaped her lips. “I could use your talents."

  The maid set a tray with rolls, butter, jam, and an assortment of meats. Ella eyed the food, but was not going to touch it until it was offered.

  "Iss, iss, mein Kind." Cecile pushed the tray toward Ella with her chubby hand. "I bet you haven't had a lot to eat recently."

  Ella nodded her thanks, took a roll, broke it open and spread butter on it. She bit into it. It was even better than the cafe bread. She placed a slice of ham on the roll and took another bite. She closed her eyes relishing the salty flavor of the meat.

  "Yes, as I was saying, I can use your talents. My Hungarian is lousy. I need someone to translate for me. All my friends write in those Hungarian journals and I have no idea whether they are brilliant, ignorant or somewhere in between." Cecile poured herself some coffee. "I bet you could translate for me."

  Ella gulped. Was it going to be this easy? Did she already have a job? "I'd be happy to, Tante Cecile."

  "But there is one fly in the ointment." Her brown eyes stared at Ella. "I can't pay you."

  Ella nodded, hoping her voice didn't reveal her disappointment. "I'm good at math. Could I become a bookkeeper?"

  She had always been curious about Father's books, but when she had looked at them over his shoulder, he had slammed them shut and said ladies needn't worry about such things.

  Tante Cecile rubbed her chin. "Yes, yes. That might work." Again the smile. "I have a friend who's a bookkeeper. She might be able to help you."

  Tante heaped sugar into her coffee cup. She was clearly not concerned with her appearance, being both round and rumpled. "You can stay here, with us, until we find something for you."

  "Thank you!"

  "Yes, yes. You can stay in my daughter Laura's room."

  "She won't mind?"

  "I don't think so. She's hardly ever here, with her work."

  Ella nodded, but her head swirled. Tante's daughter worked. Tante apparently thought it was all right for a woman to work. But maybe her daughter was an old maid and the family... well, they lived in a nice enough apartment in Budapest, but it was on the third floor, not the second. Maybe Tante needed her daughter to work.

  "What kind of work does Laura do?"

  "She edits the International Bibliography of Economics and Sociology."

  "Oh!" Ella wasn't sure what that entailed, but it sounded more glamorous than bookkeeping or translating.

  "She just graduated from university."

  Ella froze. She had heard from Ede that women in Germany were allowed to attend some lectures, but she didn't know they were allowed to graduate.

  "She's my eldest child, my only daughter." Cecile took a cigarette from a silver case and tapped it against the table.

  "You will like her, if you ever get a chance to see her."

  She flipped a gold lighter open and flicked it. Lighting the cigarette and inhaling, her eyes watered as she blew the acrid smoke into the room.

  "By the way, bookkeeper-to-be, how much schooling have you had?"

  Ella swallowed, thinking how her education compared to Laura's.

  "Just four years at a convent school." She looked at Cecile, waiting for her to decide a bookkeeping job was beyond her reach, but Cecile just nodded. "I know it's not much, and they didn't teach me anything about keeping books, but I received top marks in math." She thought about Zsuzsi. "I did well enough that Sister let me help the other girls."

  "Oh, don't look so worried, Ella, my dear." Cecile put her cigarette to her lips and inhaled deeply. "I am sure this will all work out."

  Ella wondered why Cecile seemed to be so keen to help a girl her son found in a cafe. Did she always help runaways? But she couldn't ask Cecile that. That would seem ungrateful. She tried another question.

  "Why did your father send you to Vienna?"

  "He didn't like the company I kept. We lived in Vilna, ruled by the Russians. The Czar was not happy with some of the thoughts floating around, thoughts that I shared. Father feared I would get in trouble with the authorities."

  Looking past Ella, Cecile smiled, perhaps thinking back to her Vilna days.

  "He was probabl
y right." She inhaled the cigarette again, blowing out little rings of the blue smoke.

  "And you, why did you run away from home?"

  Ella realized too late it had been a mistake to ask Tante about her past, opening, as it did, a door for her to ask about Ella's situation. She had learned that lying didn't work for her. She wasn't as clever as Huck. Better to be honest and brief.

  "I was to be married and I didn't want to be married."

  Ella waited for the next question – Why not? – but instead Cecile laughed.

  "Good for you!"

  Ella held her breath. What kind of lady would congratulate her on running away?

  "Good for you!" Tante repeated. "It's time women were allowed to choose their partners. Time for the selling of wives to stop."

  Ella stared in disbelief.

  "So, I'll stop by my friend Rózsa's and talk to her about bookkeeping. In the meantime, I'll show you where you'll sleep and let you freshen up."

  Tante stood, unfolding her short figure and brushing ashes from her bodice. She turned to the bookcase and removed several journals.

  "In the meantime, you can look through these, written in that unfathomable Hungarian of yours." She handed Ella the stack. "Read some article that interests you and we'll talk about it when I come back."

  Ella looked down at the publications. The Twentieth Century was on top.

  Laura

  "Ella?"

  Ella looked up. A woman, a little older than she, stood at the door, her hand on the door frame.

  "Hello, Ella." She approached, offering her outstretched hand. "I'm Mausi."

  Ella stood and took her hand, though she was not used to a handshake. "Hello."

  "Tilly says that you are going to be staying for a while."

  Ella looked down. "I guess."

  "It's OK." Mausi chuckled. "It's not the first time we've had guests."

  "Oh." Ella wasn't sure who Mausi was, or Tilly, for that matter. "Are you Laura? Tante's daughter?"

  She smiled. "Yes, yes. I'm Laura, but everyone calls me Mausi." She shrugged. "Everyone except Mutti, when she is in one of her formal moods."

  Ella felt heat rising to her cheeks. She was sitting in Mausi's room. "I took the liberty of...."

  "Yes, yes." Mausi eyes scanned Ella's face. "I understand you've had an extraordinary several days."

  Ella nodded, not sure what exactly Mausi knew.

  "Of course you needed to freshen up." She pulled a chair up to the table. "It's OK. You're welcome here."

  Ella swallowed. "Thank you!"

  "Of course." Mausi sat down. "Come, show me what you have been reading."

  Ella sat down too and flipped the journal to the first page of the article she had been reading.

  "This is it, but it is a little difficult for me.

  Mausi took the booklet and read a little. "Oh, yes."

  "I've heard of socialism before but I don't understand. I don't know lots of the terms...."

  Mausi looked up from the article. "Maybe this isn't the best place to start." She ran her finger down several lines. "Ervin assumes you already know a bit."

  "Ervin?" The article was written by Dr. Ervin Szabó. Mausi hadn't said Dr. Szabó, she had said Ervin.

  Mausi smiled. "Cousin Ervin."

  That explained her familiarity, her calling him by his first name, but if 'Ervin" was her cousin, then she must know all this. She must understand it.

  "It's OK, Ella. It will all make sense after you think about it. We can talk about it if you like, but right now, I think we should handle some practicalities."

  Ella nodded.

  "First, you must make yourself at home here, until you get settled." She put her hand on Ella's shoulder. "You are OK here."

  Ella swallowed. "But, you... your mother, your brother are all so kind, and you don't know anything about me."

  Mausi laughed. "We know quite a bit about you. We know that you are a young woman in trouble. We know that you have run away because you don't want to be married off. We know that you are a curious person, one who wants to understand the world. We know that you are not from Budapest, that you do not know the ways of this city."

  Ella bit her lip. "But there must be lots of girls like me...."

  "Not so many." Mausi said. "In any case, we are happy to help."

  She stood. "I, in particular, am happy to help. I believe women should be able to create their own destinies, and you are trying to do that. That is brave and deserves encouragement."

  She pushed the chair in. "So, let's tour the house first, so you know your way around."

  She walked toward the door. Ella followed.

  "First stop, the kitchen," Mausi said.

  Ella had never toured anyone's house. And starting the tour in the kitchen was strange.

  They entered the kitchen, a bit smaller than the kitchen at home. It was equipped with a work table, a sink, an ice box, cabinets full of dishes, all the things a kitchen should have, except for a stove.

  Something that looked like a stove stood against the wall, but where did one put the wood to burn? This stove had no belly. And where was the exhaust chimney?

  It must be a gas stove. Ella had heard of them, but had never seen one.

  The woman who had brought the refreshments to the salon earlier was working at the counter. She looked up.

  Mausi placed her hand on Ella's back, gently pushing her forward.

  "Tilly, I don't think you've properly met Ella."

  Tilly was a broad woman with a wide smile.

  "Hello there, Ella!"

  Ella tried to smile. She assumed Tilly was the cook, and Tilly had addressed her by her first name! Not as Miss, or Miss Weisel, or even Miss Ella. She had called her Ella.

  Tilly would only address her with the familiar Ella if she were Tilly's familiar. What was going on? Did Tilly, like the conductor, think she was a "wench?"

  "Tilly cooks and cleans and does all kinds of things," Mausi said. "She's a genius and a magician."

  Tilly giggled. "Oh, Mausi...."

  Tilly had called Mausi by her first name too!

  How strange.

  Mausi shook her head. "No, Tilly, it's true." Turning to Ella she said, "If you are hungry, come to Tilly. If you need to know something, come to Tilly."

  Ella's smile widened. These people had strange habits, but at least Ella knew she was in the same class, as far as Tilly was concerned, as Mausi. "Thank you!"

  "We usually have breakfast at 7. Dinner is usually at 1. And we have tea around 5. Supper is at 8."

  Ella nodded.

  "If you are going to miss a meal, let Tilly know as soon as possible."

  "Yes, of course."

  "Thanks, Tilly," Mausi said, walking to the door. "Next stop the salon."

  Ella had been in the salon when she had met Tante Cecile, but she had not really looked around, her mind being filled with other thoughts.

  The salon had a sofa, overstuffed chairs, two cabinets filled with pictures, figurines, and books, two tables, and straight-back chairs. In Mother's salon, the furniture had set locations, but here the chairs seemed scattered here and there, with no particular place.

  Mausi picked up an ashtray that sat on the floor. "Mother's at-home – her salon – is on Saturday, from 2."

  In Nagykanizsa people were "at home" at certain times and friends and relatives would come to chat, so Ella was familiar with the idea.

  "Outside of that time, this room is usually empty. You can come here to read or write, if you'd like to."

  "What's Tante's salon like?"

  "You should come and find out. There'll be lots of interesting people. Maybe Ervin will come this Saturday, though I'm not sure if he has left for his holidays."

  "Cousin Ervin?" Ella wondered whether she could wear the dress she had on, since she had no other now.

  "Yes. You can ask him to explain what he has written." She shrugged her shoulders, "though you shouldn't worry too much about that at the moment."
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  "Let me show you some other things." Mausi proceeded down the hall, pointing out her parents’ bedroom, her father's study, her brothers' room, and her mother's study.

  Her mother had a study!

  Ella peered in and saw clutter on the desk, books piled, with markers here and there.

  "Come, let's sit for a moment." Mausi led Ella back to the salon.

  She pulled a key from her pocket, which she gave to Ella.

  "The key to the front door. It's best to try to be here before Mutti locks up, about 9 pm, but, in case you aren't here, you have the key. And be forewarned, the building concierge gets grumpy if he has to open the door for you. He usually locks up about 10."

  Ella stared at Mausi. "You mean it's OK to be out... out at night."

  "Well, I wouldn't go out by myself at night. But yes, it's OK."

  "Is it OK to be out by myself, during the day?"

  Mausi chuckled. "Good question. I'll find a map, so we can talk about places to avoid."

  She pulled a watch from her pocket, frowning as she looked at it. "But, I'm running late. I need to get back to work."

  Work! Yes, Ella remembered. Mausi worked.

  Ella wanted to know what an editor did. Mausi's life seemed charmed. She was educated. She had the kind of work Ella thought she wanted. She was elegant, not in Mother's fashion, but in a sensible way, wearing comfortable but perfectly tailored clothes.

  "A couple of other things. Mutti isn't very practical, so if you have questions, ask me or Tilly."

  Ella wondered whether 'Mutti' would agree, but she just nodded.

  "Make yourself comfortable. I won't be home much, so you can spread out in our room."

  Ella nodded again.

  "I won't be back for supper, but you'll meet my brothers."

  Ella nodded. "Thank you."

  Mausi stood and started to the door. She turned to look at Ella.

  "And relax. It will all be all right."

  It will be All Right

  Ella sat, thinking about all Mausi had said.

  A key to the house! She could come and go as she pleased.

  Tell Tilly if she didn't plan to be home for dinner!

  In Nagykanizsa, Mother planned her days, when she would meet whom and for how long. It was Ella who was informed what would be happening, usually just before it happened.