Hungarian Rhapsody

by Wendy Teller

  That was not to be.

  She chose this new life. So be it. There was no going back, no matter how she wished for it.

  She would not think about Ede.

  She read the entire pamphlet, straight through. At the back of the notebook, she made a list of the words she did not know how to translate. She read the pamphlet through again. She managed to eliminate several of the words, having understood the good doctor's anatomy lesson.

  She started on her translation, writing as neatly as she could. Once she had pushed aside her doubts, she quite enjoyed the project.

  "Ella?"

  Mausi stood at the door. "It's time for dinner."

  "Oh. Sorry." Ella stacked her papers, set them to the side, and followed Mausi to the dining room.

  In addition to Tante, Adolf, Karl, and Mihály, an older gentleman sat at the head of the table. He nodded to her, pushing back from the table, rising and offering his hand. "Call me Onkel Mihály, Ella."

  "Yes... Onkel Mihály." She shook his hand.

  "I hear you are deep in a translation project," Onkel Mihály said as he resettled at the table.

  Ella took her seat. "Yes, Onkel."

  "And what are you translating?"

  All eyes were on her. "It's called 'Fruits of Philosophy'."

  "What's it about?" Adolf smiled.

  Ella felt her cheeks burn.

  "It's a famous pamphlet." Mausi laughed. "Outlawed first in the United States and then in Britain."

  Onkel frowned. "So, are we having Ella translate something that will get her arrested?"

  "Oh, I don't think so." Tante Cecile took a sip of her wine. "The emperor is too busy with other problems."

  "Other problems? Like the rioting peasants?" Adolf shook his head. "Who cares about the emperor and his problems? What is this pamphlet about and why would it be outlawed?"

  Mausi sighed. "It details methods of contraception, obscene contraception, and is therefore considered illegal."

  So that was what preventing pregnancies was called: contraception. It made sense contra – against – ception –conceiving.

  "Still?" Mihály sat up and shook his head. "Is discussion of contraception still considered obscene?"

  "I'm not sure if it is still considered illegal." Mausi smiled. "Which is too bad, since every time someone was brought to trial for writing or publishing the paper, the pamphlet’s circulation increased." She patted her lips with her napkin. "It was a wonderful way to educate women about contraception, a wonderful way to teach young women things they should know."

  Rózsa again

  Ella woke from a dream featuring the man with sour breath, her sheet in a tangle, her face sweaty. She slowly reconstructed her situation: she was at Tante's house and today she was to see Rózsa again.

  This didn't calm her.

  She had translated only the "Proem," whatever that meant, and the first chapter. And she had a long list of words she didn't know and weren't in Karl's dictionary. If only she had spent less time reading about the prevention of conception.

  She sat at the breakfast table, her stomach churning. She sipped her coffee and pulled a bit of crust from her roll.

  Tante pushed her plate to the side and lit a cigarette. "I have a meeting this morning." She exhaled blue smoke rings. "Important meeting, about my article for the Neues Pester Journal."

  "Tante?" Under the table Ella dug her finger nails into her palm. "Was I to meet with Rózsa today?"

  "Yes, yes," Tante put her cigarette to her lips and inhaled. "Yes. You can walk."

  Ella gulped as Tante disappeared out the door.

  Mausi shook her head and laughed. "Mutti, Mutti!" She turned to Ella. "Don't look so worried. I'll draw you a map."

  Last night's dream of sour breath swept through Ella's mind. She felt the streets might be unsafe, even though she had walked from the train station into Pest without trouble.

  "Is it safe for me to walk by myself?"

  "Just follow the route I give you and you'll be fine," Mausi said.

  Ella brought paper and pencil. Mausi described the route as she drew the map.

  "Head east, away from the Danube," She drew several wavy lines and a fish to show the Danube.

  "That's Kossuth Lajos út, but it changes names to Rákóczi út. Turn right here." Laura continued, writing down the street names and drawing the path.

  Ella tried to memorize the route. If it had been in Nagykanizsa, it would have been easy. But here she didn’t know the street names and she didn’t know any of the landmarks.

  "How long will it take me?"

  "Maybe half an hour." Laura handed the map to Ella.

  "And pay no attention to anyone along the way. Just walk, as if you were in a hurry, keep your gaze ahead." Laura smiled at her. "No one will bother you if you seem to be rushed."

  Ella nodded.

  "I've got to be off." At the door Mausi turned to Ella. "Good luck with Mrs. Mercurial."

  Mrs. Mercurial. That must be Rózsa.

  Ella went to their room, washed up and brushed her hair, pinning it up in a loose bun. She smoothed her skirt. She had only brought the clothes she was wearing. They would have to do, even though her blouse was wrinkled and tired, her skirt not much better.

  Gathering her things, she looked at the map again, trying to remember all the directions. Looking at it when she was walking would be a sure sign she was a stranger and therefore a target. She shoved the paper into her pocket.

  It was already hot even though it was early. She walked the route, paying attention to the street signs, until she found a turn she must take. She made the turn and consulted the map again, then continued walking.

  By the time she had reached Rózsa's door she was sweaty and tired, and nervous too because she had not translated the entire pamphlet.

  She knocked timidly on the door.

  Rózsa opened the door and examined her through wire rim glasses, which accentuated the darkness under her eyes.

  "Well, at last!" She turned to one side to let Ella enter. "I thought you decided not to come."

  "No, Mrs. Schwimmer, I had to walk because Tante had an important meeting."

  "Rózsa. Call me Rózsa!"

  Ella should've remembered this request. She'd made a bad impression just by saying hello.

  "Yes Rózsa." Ella looked around the little room, disappointed not to see Suska there.

  Rózsa sat at the table and reached for the documents.

  "Well, let me see what you have."

  Ella handed her the notebook.

  "I only translated the first two parts." She perched on the chair opposite Rózsa.

  Rózsa was already reading. Her frown deepened as she nodded.

  "I see."

  Ella felt like she had to defend herself.

  "I had only a small dictionary."

  Rózsa's finger ran down the page as she read.

  "Where's the pamphlet?"

  Ella handed her the booklet.

  Rózsa opened it looking back and forth between it and the translation.

  Ella sat, watching the woman read, turn pages back and forth. She slid her hand in her pocket and fingered the map.

  At last Rózsa looked up. "I think you will not be a bookkeeper."

  Ella held her breath, not certain what that meant.

  "You will tutor children in English." Rózsa didn’t seem to like this particular decision. Her eyes were hard and her mouth a thin disapproving line.

  "Give me the bookkeeping lessons. I will need them for someone else."

  Ella had been so concerned with the translation, she had not thought about the book and had not brought it.

  "I left the bookkeeping lessons at Tante's."

  "Well, you need to bring it back." The woman stared at Ella over her glasses. "Today."

  "Yes, M... Rózsa."

  "Go get it now."

  "Yes, Rózsa."

  The older woman handed the pamphlet and the notebook back to Ella.

&nbs
p; "And complete the translation."

  "Do you have a better dictionary?"

  "Yes, of course."

  Rózsa stood, her short stout figure looming.

  "Get the book. When you return you can consult the dictionary."

  As the door closed, none too gently behind her, Ella exhaled.

  She would be tutoring.

  Maybe bookkeeping would be better. Maybe one could make more money. And she would have learned about business. She had wanted to learn about business.

  But tutoring…she could handle that.

  Besides, beggars could not be choosers.

  She put her hand in her pocket.

  The map was not there!

  It must have slipped from her pocket when she was with Rózsa.

  Should she go back to retrieve it?

  What would Rózsa think of her?

  No.

  She could remember the way back. It wasn't that far.

  And she didn't want Rózsa to think she was a fool.

  She started down the street, making a left turn at the corner, since she had turned right on her way to Rózsa's. She looked around her, realizing that this morning she had concentrated on the street names, so she hadn't noticed landmarks.

  It all looked busy, big, and confusing.

  Never mind. She remembered the name of the next street, St. Stephen's út. She thought she needed to turn right.

  The next street was called Rákóczi út. She watched the street signs as she walked.

  The day had grown hotter and she felt perspiration on her chest, under her arms, on her face. She walked on.

  No Rákóczi út.

  Had she missed it?

  She looked up and down the street, wishing she had paid more attention to her surroundings.

  She continued walking, wondering whether she should have turned right instead of left.

  Again she stopped. The buildings looked shabby, the street narrower than the streets she had traveled before.

  She wrinkled her nose at the faint smell of stewed cabbage and urine.

  Ruined Plans

  Ella looked around. She had to find someone who could help her get back to Tante Cecile's.

  A man walking in the opposite direction, a man with a ragged jacket and scuffed shoes, eyed Ella.

  She hurried past him.

  If Ella could find a shop, she could ask.

  She tried to remember Tante's address.

  The lost map had the name of every street she had to use, but not the street she started from. Maybe she could describe the street with the park and the sturdy church. Perhaps they would recognize Tante’s last name, Polanyi. Or her full name, or that of Mr. Polanyi, or one of their children.

  It was a slim chance, but still, she had to try.

  She walked by a butcher shop. A man with a dark face stood behind the counter, the only person in the store.

  Ella passed by.

  The next store sold vegetables. Again the shop keeper was a man, a young man with unruly hair. But here, at least, several customers, woman customers, were shopping.

  As she took the handle of the door, she felt an arm reach over her shoulder and across her chest.

  A strong meaty hand shoved her hand almost to her shoulder blade. A ragged pain shot through her body.

  The pamphlet and notebook fell to the ground.

  She tried to swing her other hand behind her, but it flayed uselessly in the air.

  The grasp across her chest tightened so that the emerald necklace cut into her collarbone.

  "Do as I say, so I do not need to hurt you further." The voice was deep, and though it was but a whisper, it was commanding.

  Ella arched her back and kicked her right leg up and back.

  Her shoulder popped as her hand was pushed farther up her back.

  "Nice spirit, little filly. Now behave."

  Ella's throat tightened as she tried to scream. A pitiful little "ah" emerged from her lips.

  "I don't want to damage my goods, filly, so for both of us, behave."

  She felt perspiration run down her face. Her shoulder burned. She gasped.

  The pressure on her chest restricted her lungs, and as she tried to pull in air, a shot of pain, like hot metal, raced through her shoulder.

  The door in front of her melted as darkness descended.

  When Ella awoke, a face with wrinkled brows and a mole, just where her mother's mole was, met her eyes.

  Ella blinked.

  It was Aunt Ilona's face.

  Aunt Ilona smiled as she wiped a cool cloth across Ella's brow. "Miklos! Miklos!"

  Ella tried to sit up, but her left arm was weak, useless, the shoulder bound. She fell back to the bed.

  She saw Miklos' dark face, his mustache long. He stared down on her from over Aunt Ilona's shoulder.

  "You idiot!"

  "Miklos, darling. Not now. Her shoulder, the doctor said it should get better."

  Miklos' deep voice flooded the room. "Now. She needs to hear this now."

  "Doctor gave her morphine for the pain." Aunt's lips pressed tight. "You'll frighten her."

  Miklos's furious face focused on his aunt and his voice boomed. "Good! That's what I want to do."

  "Miklos, please!"

  "Aunt." Miklos continued staring at the old woman. "Go."

  He started to pull her, but she obeyed, standing up. She hesitated. Miklos reached to shove her toward the door.

  "Now."

  Aunt Ilona lowered her head and walked quickly to the door, her handkerchief at her eyes.

  Miklos turned back to his sister.

  "You idiot!" He stood over her, glaring at her. "Why did you leave?"

  "I...." Ella's throat was sore. She cleared it."I...."

  Not waiting for her response, Miklos broke in. "You had everything! Ede is...." Miklos shook his head. "He should be outraged, but he is somewhere in the city, looking for you."

  Ella winced. Her chest stung under the pendant.

  "The idiot still wants to marry you."

  Ella stared at Miklos. Her mother's words "had his way with me" raced through her mind.

  "And if you have half a brain, you will marry and be a dutiful wife."

  Ella closed her eyes. Why was she with Aunt Ilona? She remembered coming to Budapest, but how did she get here?

  He snorted. "I can see you are unconvinced. Let me explain the facts of life to you, little Virgin Mary."

  He touched her shoulder. A shot of pain surged. She whimpered as she opened her eyes.

  What had happened to her?

  Miklos' voice was hoarse and gravelly. "Good. Look at me. And listen."

  He was silent, but she said nothing.

  She remembered trying to find her way back to Tante's.

  She remembered the arm across her chest.

  She remembered her hand shoved up her back and the sound of tearing at her shoulder.

  Miklos’ voice pierced her thoughts. "Do you understand what could have happened if our detective hadn't found you?"

  "Your detective?"

  She leaned on her right side and pushed herself up, ignoring the acidy reflux in her throat.

  "You hired that... that...?" Her heart pounded, she expelled a deep breath, her voice jagged. "Thug!"

  "Yes!" His lips curled in an unkind smile. "Yes."

  He slowly nodded, as if this confirmed the justification of his actions. "A damned good thing we did, too. He said he found you in an unsavory part of Pest."

  He had used the word we. Did that mean... "You and Ede hired that...."

  "Yes, of course." He shook his head. "Though I am not sure I would have been so kind if I were Ede."

  She swallowed. She could understand Miklos hiring such a ruffian. But Ede? Was that like Ede?

  Never mind, she wasn't going to marry Ede. She was going to get a job and support herself. She was going to be an English tutor. Rózsa said she was going to be....

  "Oh!" Her right hand covered her mouth. "I was
supposed to get the book for Rózsa... and Tilly would have expected...."

  Miklos interrupted. "Never mind what silly thing you thought you were going to do." His words, sharp and cutting, came rapidly. "If our man had not found you, someone could have abducted you."

  "No!" She had gotten to Budapest without trouble. Well, there was Sour Breath, but she had managed that.

  "If you were very lucky, he would have only stolen whatever you had."

  She shook her head.

  "If you were only lucky, he would have raped you."

  Miklos looked at her, spit flying from his mouth, as he annunciated each word.

  "Rape, Virgin Mary. Do you know the word rape?"

  Miklos spit out "Virgin Mary" with scorn, as he always did.

  "He would have disrobed you and forced his penis into you."

  She thought of her mother, what she had said about Father. She thought of Sour Breath.

  "He might have beaten you, or tortured you, or killed you."

  Maybe Miklos was right. She didn't want to admit it, but she did not prevent his thug from taking her.

  He frowned. "And that would not have been the worst of it."

  She swallowed.

  "He might have impregnated you. You understand? A child might have been conceived."

  Ella saw Therese's body on the bed, the red strain spreading.

  "Or he might have given you a disease, like syphilis."

  "Syphilis?"

  "Yes, you fool, syphilis. A disease that will kill you, but only after it has tortured you."

  She felt exhausted and leaned back on the pillows.

  "Or, it is possible that he would have given you both gifts: a child and syphilis."

  He had made his point. She just wanted him to leave.

  "Worse yet, he might have sold you to a brothel or rented you out to men who want sex or sent you to Turkey or Russia, where they especially like Hungarian women."

  She remembered the thug's words, "don't damage my goods.”

  "Good. I can see you're frightened."

  She was.

  She needed to learn the city. She would learn the rules from Mausi, if only she could find her way back to Tante's.

  "Now that I have educated you, curious Virgin Mary, you understand me."

  She nodded, because if she agreed perhaps he would leave her. She needed to be well and get back to Tante's.