Outcasts

by Susan M. Papp

  Tibor pulled Bela aside, and extricated a can of sardines from one of his deep pants pockets. He opened it deftly and tried to encourage his brother.

  "We'll eat like kings tonight. Don't worry about your knapsack, little brother."

  They travelled after dark from then on, finding hiding places and resting during the day.

  SUTI, KORNELIA, AND ANOTHER boy kept hopping onto and switching trains. They had to jump on a train going through Debrecen in eastern Hungary in order to catch a train that went further northeast of their destination to Kiralyhaza, where they finally switched to an overcrowded train going west to Nagyszollos. Trains that were running seemed to be going east-west and not north-south. Finally, they reached Nagyszollos - or, as the Russians had renamed it, Vinogradov.

  It was almost midnight when the train pulled into the train station. Suti and Kornelia were warned that the train would not stop, only slow down. It was the last train of the day carrying Russian soldiers west, and the station master, Palyuch bacsi, was ordered to stay and salute as it went by. There was one dim twenty-watt light bulb still burning in the office of the station master. Otherwise, a thick blanket of darkness enveloped the train station. Suti and Kornelia jumped skillfully off the train in time, without injuring themselves, and saw Palyuch bacsi just as he was collecting his things and locking up to go home.

  Palyuch bacsi was a short, pudgy, bald man with glasses. He was an ethnic Rusyn and spoke Hungarian with a local accent. Suti and Kornelia knew him. When Palyuch bacsi saw them coming toward him in the dim light he knelt down and made the sign of the cross. He recognized them, but didn't quite trust his own judgement - he had already imbibed a couple of shots of homemade brandy by then. Waiting for the last train was tedious and time-consuming. As the two small figures drew near, he whispered in disbelief, "Is it really you?"

  As they assured him they were truly Sanyi and Kornelia Weisz, tears began rolling down his face. The two teenagers helped the station master to his feet. After touching their hands, feeling their faces, Palyuch bacsi collected himself and declared,

  "You are coming home with me tonight." Suti and Kornelia were surprised by the generous offer and accepted, and the three of them walked the two-kilometre distance to his home.

  After gently inquiring whether or not they had any lice, Palyuch bacsi and his wife gave Kornelia and Suti each their own bed to sleep in. That night, for the first time in over a year, Suti slept in a bed with clean sheets, a pillow, and a comforter. As he settled in, he savoured the softness and thickness of the down comforter.

  Suti in August 1945 in Budapest.

  TIBOR AND BELA ARRIVED at the border station of Csap at dawn. The train they were on was scheduled to go further east to Nagyszollos. Bela remarked that it was practically empty of passengers.

  Bela mentioned this again, but Tibor didn't take note. Nagyszollos was close - they were practically home. Home to Hedy, Tibor thought.

  They entered a compartment with a man already inside, and took the seats across from him. Tibor looked out the window, watching the events taking place on the platform, ignoring the fellow passenger. When he sat down again, he noticed that the man was staring at them, not in threatening manner, but in a way that made Tibor nervous. The man had an unusual handlebar moustache, with dark hair and eyes, and round, wire-rimmed glasses. Tibor guessed he was about forty-three. There was something about him that was familiar, yet Tibor didn't know where to place him.

  "Aren't you the sons of Colonel Domokos Aykler?" the man asked.

  Tibor nodded tentatively.

  "And are you Tibor Schroeder?"

  "Yes," Tibor stammered, taken aback by the recognition.

  "What are you doing? May I ask where you are going?" the man asked.

  Tibor just stared at this stranger. Bela, snoozing a bit, opened his eyes and also stared. They both sat in silence.

  "I'm sorry, how rude of me, I should have introduced myself. My name is Endre Kaposi. I used to have a business in Nagyszollos. I am now shutting down my business there and moving back to Budapest.

  "Of course." Tibor finally recognized the man and remembered they had once met. "I remember you."

  "Where are you going?" Kaposi asked again.

  "We're going home to Nagyszollos. Our home is still there and my business is waiting for me," Tibor stated in a matter-of-fact tone, and then adding with a bit of a smile on his face, "and if my fiancée will still have me, we will be married soon."

  Kaposi stared at both of them for what seemed like minutes. He went to the door of the compartment of the train, looked up and down the hallway of the car, then closed the door. Making sure it was securely locked, he returned to his seat, took a deep breath, and began talking in a low voice.

  "I'm not sure where to begin. Do you have any idea what has happened in Nagyszollos? Your estate has been ransacked and plundered. A gang of Russian soldiers broke most of the furniture in the house into pieces and used it for firewood." Without waiting for a reaction, he continued. "The property is now in the hands of the Soviet state. Your business is no longer yours. All signs that it was even once yours are gone. The authorities searched for your father for weeks. They questioned everyone who used to work for your family. Your brother-in-law returned; he's since lost his mind. His new occupation is digging out the weeds between the cobblestones on the streets. They've pinned a sign to his back that reads, ‘This is what happens to kulaks, the enemies of the state.'"

  Bela's eyes opened wider as he listened. Tibor sat, staring at this man, shocked by the things coming out of his mouth.

  Kaposi took a breath, folded his hands together, and as if what he was about to say would be even more painful, he bowed his head and continued.

  "One month after the Russians arrived, they announced that all Hungarian men between the ages of eighteen and fifty were to report to County Administration Hall for malenkij robot - three days work. The men reported and were marched off to a town called Solyva where they were put into barracks. One man escaped and came home to his family in January. He told tales of deprivation - horrible conditions. Word got out that half of the men never made it to Solyva - they died or were killed along the way. Since that time, the ones who survived have been sent off to Siberia to work camps. No one, with the exception of this one man, has been seen or heard from since. You understand - thousands were taken from the entire region of Karpatalja."

  Kaposi looked up at Tibor and Bela, noted the shocked look on their faces, and continued. "I would suggest saving yourselves a lot of suffering and pain. If you are determined to go back, simply buy yourselves a bit of rope and hang yourselves here at the closest tree. It will be a lot less painful than going back there."

  Tibor realized the deadly truth in the man's black humour. Still, he had to ask, "But what about Hedy Weisz? Have any Jewish families returned?"

  Kaposi looked at Tibor with a pained look on his face. "Some of those Jews who returned, who survived the war and the camps, even they have since been deported for malenkij robot. There are no exceptions to the cruelty of this regime."

  At that moment the train right next to them started moving, very slowly, in the opposite direction. The compartment doors were open on both trains.

  Tibor was still talking to Kaposi when Bela became quite agitated and announced to Tibor, "I've heard enough. I'm not going back there."

  With that, he deftly stepped over from one train to the other slowly moving train - the one heading in the opposite direction, southwest toward Hungary. Tibor thanked the stranger, said goodbye, and with a heavy heart, stepped across onto the other train after his brother.

  THE NEXT MORNING SUTI headed out to see his family home. He was positively obsessed with the idea of stepping into the house where he and his siblings were born. It became the central focus of this trip. It was as if this past year had all been some dreadful surreal nightmare.

  Tentatively, he knocked on the door. After a few more attempts an elderly woman opened it. His hope
s evaporated. Suti explained that he and his family once lived here, and asked if he could come in and take a look around. The old woman, dressed in black except for a colourful shawl, became nervous and defensive. As if to explain herself, she blurted out, "This is our house. We were given it legally. We didn't steal it."

  "I didn't come here to get the house back," Suti explained calmly. "I just want to take a look around. I was born in this house and my mother passed away here."

  Reluctantly, the elderly woman let him in, and watched suspiciously and followed him as he moved from room to room. The furniture was different, but the rooms were arranged in the same way as when the Weisz family lived there.

  All through this, the elderly woman seemed nervous and made it clear she wanted him to finish whatever he was looking for and leave as soon as possible.

  As Suti came out of the house, his dog Buksi, who had been Suti's constant playmate and companion, started to bark at him angrily. Suti just stared at his former friend. He realized maybe the dog didn't recognize him, or maybe he did and was angry with him. After all, Suti thought, I was the one who abandoned him.

  While he was still in the yard of his former home, looking at the apiary, a neighbour who had trimmed and pruned the fruit trees on the estate came by. He was incredibly tall and thin and, due to his appearance, was nicknamed Tall Steve. Tall Steve looked nervous when he saw Suti, and started to proclaim in a loud voice, "Don't believe those who will tell you that I took your family's things from the house. I know they will say that, but don't believe it. I only took a few things and am willing to bring them back. Your cousin Sanyi took most of the contents."

  Suti stood silently while the disclaimer went on. He thought the behaviour of Steve was very strange indeed. What would I do with my father's clothes and household items?

  Suti stared at Tall Steve and as he turned to walk away said, "Don't worry, I don't want anything back."

  Within a short time, a former assistant to his father in the operation of the estate, Heder bacsi, also appeared. Suti couldn't believe how quickly the news had spread that he was back. Heder bacsi seemed especially anxious. Out of breath upon his arrival, he wiped the sweat from his forehead with a coloured handkerchief.

  "Are you back, Sanyi?"

  Suti looked around and didn't quite know how to respond. It was self-evident.

  "Yes, I'm back."

  Without asking how he was or what had happened to them, Heder bacsi went right to the point.

  "Is your father coming back as well?"

  Suti looked away for a moment before replying, trying to control his rising anger. He looked toward the flower garden and noticed how overgrown and neglected it had become. He heard a pair of mourning doves cooing in a nearby tree.

  Finally, Suti said, "No, my father is not coming back. My father is dead."

  Hearing this, Heder could not hide his visible relief. Suti saw in Heder's eyes what was running through his mind: if Vilmos Weisz was not coming back, then undoubtedly he would become the new estate manager.

  Realizing he had to get as far away from these people as possible, Suti walked briskly toward the centre of town. He inquired from a stranger if there was a place where he could get a meal and take a shower. They pointed him in the direction of Vasut utca (train street), where the Jewish Relief Committee had set up an office for returning Jews to register for meals and accommodation.

  Suti was registered as the 145th Jew to return to Nagyszollos. His name and number were registered into his ration card on July 2, 1945. The ration cards were modified little booklets formerly used by public nurses to register the weight of newborns. Now they were used by returning concentration camp survivors to register the meals they consumed. Suti was overcome with a feeling of satisfaction when he received it - the booklet was one of the first pieces of documentation, stating who he was, and what town he lived in. It was the first piece of official identification he received since his identity had been abrogated over one year ago. He inquired everywhere about his sisters, Hedy and Aliz, but no one knew anything about them.

  The Jewish Relief Committee also gave him a house to compensate him for the home taken from his family. Suti's new house was centrally located and the communal kitchen was close by. The house was empty except for a straw-filled mattress on the floor and a small table. Suti settled in for the night.

  Word spread to even the nearby villages: little Sanyi Weisz had come back to Nagyszollos. Uncle Moritz from the neighbouring village of Fancsika harnessed one horse to a cart and rode to Nagyszollos to embrace his nephew.

  Uncle Moritz and Suti sat and talked for hours about their family, much diminished now. Through tears they tried to reconstruct all that had happened. Uncle Moritz lost his youngest son, Bumi, who was roughly the same age as Icuka. Suti told his uncle he had seen his other son, Lajcsi, as they were leaving the Gunskirchen when the concentration camp was liberated.

  At one point, the pain of hearing all this simply overwhelmed Uncle Moritz. In a fit of crying, he went to the cart, pulled out a bottle of vodka, and with a few gulps downed half the bottle. In the next twenty minutes of wordlessness between them, he continued to down the entire bottle of the fiery liquid.

  Becoming quite inebriated, Uncle Moritz then turned to Suti and said emphatically, "From now on, you are my son. You will come to live with us! Etu, my daughter and your cousin, returned as well. She will cook and run the household. We will be one family."

  Suti listened to his uncle and realized that what he was proposing was the last thing he wanted for his future. Although the details were still taking shape in his own mind, he had been thinking about going to the Jewish homeland for some time. His mother's stories about making aliyah so many years ago stayed with him and inspired him.

  "I can't come with you. I'm going to Palestine."

  "I won't hear of it," bellowed Uncle Moritz. "You are underage - you can't live on your own."

  Uncle Moritz was deaf to Suti's pleas for understanding, and grabbed his nephew by the shoulders and plunked him on the cart. Without letting him say another word, Uncle Moritz pulled himself up to his place on the cart next to Suti.

  As the horse began to trot steadily, Uncle Moritz's head slumped forward, and within seconds he was asleep. When his uncle began to snore, Suti jumped off the slowly moving cart and watched it as the horse, carriage, and his Uncle Moritz headed out of Nagyszollos toward Fancsika. The horse kept going, Uncle Moritz kept snoring.

  INTERESTINGLY, THE TRAIN GOING southwest in the direction of Hungary was packed with passengers. Bela and Tibor found two seats close to the door where they entered in the third-class cabin. They noticed there was an ominous sense of quiet in the compartment. Then they saw why.

  Militias in khaki drab uniforms - not military but paramilitary guards - were walking down the aisle asking questions of the passengers.

  Tibor noticed they had pistols and nightsticks and were wearing black ribbons tied to their right arms. No insignias or identification were evident to indicate what country they belonged to. They spoke in a mixture of languages as they went up and down the aisle interrogating people. There were dozens of them, studying the faces of passengers. Tibor realized they were looking to see if they could find anyone who was involved with the previous regime. The militias were intense and seemed to be very young, some of them even teenagers.

  Bela looked at Tibor nervously and whispered, "Now we're in trouble. The only ID I have is my military-school ID, and if I show that they will kill us both for sure. And if I get rid of it now, that will be sure to raise suspicion."

  "Look," Tibor whispered back, trying to look nonchalant, "we've done nothing wrong, there is no reason to fear. Just look out the window and ignore them."

  A few rows before the militias would have reached them, a man got up and rushed to the door. Seeing this, one of the men pulled out his nightstick and started beating the fleeing passenger. Everyone watched, frozen with fear. Then more militiamen came and dragged the unfor
tunate man away. By this time he was bleeding profusely from his mouth and ear.

  The train seemed to be moving even slower now. Somewhere in the cabin, a child was crying, and the more his mother hushed him, the more adamant he became in his cries. It was hot and stuffy inside the train cabin. A general feeling of unease could be felt - no one knew who was going to be next.

  Around twenty minutes later, several militias entered their compartment again. Among them, Bela saw an old schoolmate, and whispered to Tibor, "Look, there's Marta Grosz. Do you remember the family? We were in the same class - she's younger than me."

  Marta was dressed like the others in the severe paramilitary uniform. From the end of the cabin, she pointed directly at them as she kept speaking to the others. There was no sign of friendly recognition on her face. Her hair was cropped short. She looked so different than when they went to school. An ominous feeling descended on Bela as he looked at the emotionless, icy expression on her face.

  Tibor sat stone-faced. He thought he recognized one of the militias as well - a young man from their hometown who was jealous of Tibor because of Hedy. Tibor wasn't even sure of his name anymore.

  As the train reached the railway station at Satoraljaujhely, inside Hungary, they noticed the train was surrounded by dozens of paramilitary guards. Four members of the paramilitary, who had travelled with them over the Soviet border into Hungary, walked up to Tibor and Bela, arrested them, and escorted them to the Russian police and military headquarters. They didn't give any reason for the arrest.

  The Russian command station was several blocks away from the train station. As they walked behind Tibor and Bela one of the militias stepped on the back of Bela's bare feet with his boots, ripping his tire sandals and scraping away the skin on his heel with each painful step. After a few hundred metres of walking like that, Bela's bare heels were bleeding, the skin completely scraped away from the action of the militia's boot.