“Mom,” Dora resolved.
“My daughter.” Eszter pulled Dora into her.
They hugged, gripping each other tighter and tighter. Eszter started shaking and Dora rubbed her back, her fingers catching on the knobs of Eszter’s spine. She was so frail, Dora feared she might hurt her. She remembered watching Eszter resist the weight of a police officer, nearly bucking him off her back, nine years ago. Now, Eszter struggled beneath the weight of a hug.
“You’re here,” Eszter whispered.
“I am.”
“What is going on?” Ferenc’s voice cracked behind them.
Dora pulled away from Eszter. She wiped the dirt off her coat and stood up to face Ferenc. “I am not Anika. I am Dora Turján, Eszter’s daughter.”
Ferenc’s eyes swelled. He opened his mouth to speak, but closed it quickly and shook his head.
“I only knew halfway through this whole thing you were dealing with my mom. I thought you guys could help each other escape.”
“What? That can’t be true!” Ferenc backed away from them.
“It is true.”
Ferenc looked at her with anger now, lingering extra long on Dora’s eyes. “Why would you lie to me, Anika?”
“It’s Dora.”
“How could you do that?”
Dora explained the entire situation, allowing the truth to strike Ferenc in its consistent yet painful rhythm. As Dora spoke, Ferenc’s eyes grew watery. He coughed and kept extending his neck. Dora didn’t know if he was trying to make himself seem taller or just push back the tears amassing in his throat. It was probably both.
“I can’t believe it. You’re a liar. You used me.” Ferenc looked from Dora, to Eszter, then back again.
“Please, I did this for her and you. Those letters from Uncle Lanci, those were from me … so that you could keep going.”
“What?” Ferenc’s voice grew louder. “Pretending to be some radio personality so that you could make me risk my life getting her out. How is that any help?”
“I’m sorry.” Dora’s fingers wound nervously around one another. “I wanted to help you escape too.”
“But you did this for her, mostly?”
Dora looked down. She didn’t know what to say. That wasn’t true either. She cared about both of them, one by instinct and the other by choice. She couldn’t imagine the guilt, and anger, she’d feel if either of them didn’t make it out at this point.
“Well, I still need to go to Munich.” Ferenc huffed and kneeled down to Eszter. “You said you knew the meeting place, that you heard the code on the radio. Take me there.”
Dora stared at her mom, who had since retreated into a ball, the blanket fully covering her head.
“Mom,” Dora tapped her mom’s shoulder. “Is it true you figured out the meeting place?”
“Yes,” Eszter’s voice breached the blanket, muffled and phlegm-ridden.
“Tell us where it is.” Ferenc nudged Eszter’s shoulder.
“Come here. I’ll whisper it in your ear.”
“You can tell all of us,” Ferenc said.
Eszter looked at Dora and smiled. She turned to Ferenc. “Only you need the code.”
“There is no reason why Dora can’t hear.”
Eszter shook her head. “No, no, no.”
“Just go to her,” Dora said, backing away.
“Fine, but I don’t like this.” Ferenc lowered his ear to Eszter who, like a child, covered her mouth so Dora couldn’t see the movements of her lips. Dora didn’t have time to understand why her mom was acting this way. They needed to just keep moving forward.
“I know where we need to be.” Ferenc grabbed Dora’s hand.
“We?”
“Yes, I’m angry, but not enough to leave you here. You, me, and your mom. We have to get on that envoy.”
That was the Ferenc she knew, though Dora never planned to go with them. She decided to play along, realizing that was the only way to keep Ferenc going.
Dora reached for Eszter’s hand. “We’ll just take it slow.”
Eszter didn’t move at all.
“I’m too weak, Dora,” she gasped.
“I know, but you have to come with us.”
“I can’t.”
“You can.”
Dora wrapped her arms around Eszter and stood her up, clinging to her torso as she tried to steady her. One side of Eszter seemed almost completely immobile. Looking down, Dora noticed her mom’s battered hand. Remembering how hot Eszter felt, Dora realized she needed medical attention as soon as possible. They had to start moving.
“We’ve got to go, now.”
“I think I can do it,” Eszter said. “Just let go.”
The second Dora did, however, Eszter’s knees buckled, and she collapsed to the ground.
Dora bent down to pick up Eszter again. “I’ll carry you for some of the way, and then Ferenc will do the rest.”
“We can’t carry her, Dora,” Ferenc said gently, behind her. “It wouldn’t look right. People would notice.”
“Go without me for now,” Eszter said.
“No.” Dora wasn’t about to lose Eszter again. “Mom, please, you must have some strength to get up.”
Ferenc stooped down to Dora, placing his hand on her back. “She’s right. We can’t take her right now. We’d be risking our lives. But we’ll come back for her once we get the envoy. I promise.”
“We can’t just leave her here.”
“She’s safe for now.” Ferenc took off his jacket and wrapped it around Eszter. He pointed to an alcove in the alley. “We’ll make it nice for her there and put these trash bins in front, so no one will see her.”
“Trash?” Dora looked at the overflowing trash cans. They’d make Eszter even sicker.
“It’s just temporary,” Ferenc said.
“I’ll wait right here for you. Just go with him.” Eszter clung to the blanket and Ferenc’s jacket.
“Not before I know.” Dora faced her mom. “About Boldiszar.”
Eszter froze. Her eyes grew watery. She bowed her head, and as her tears fell to ground, she whispered, “It was my fault.”
“No, please don’t say that.” Dora dropped to her knees.
“I led Boldiszar to the trap by mistake. I thought guns and ammunition and forces from the West would be there, but I was a fool. They shot him in the neck. He was going to die and my strength was gone, Dora. I couldn’t drag him out of there, not like that, with his throat full of blood.”
“But, did you kill him? Did you shoot him?”
Eszter looked past Dora. Her lips trembled.
“Mom, I need to know.”
“I wanted to relieve his suffering.”
“And?” She needed her mom to say it.
“Yes, it was me, in the end.”
Dora stared at her mom. Eszter did it. She was the reason Boldiszar died. It was her, in so many ways. Dora started looking around, for what, she didn’t know. Maybe just someone who could swoop down and change the past. Her eyes searched and searched, but found nothing. She was confused and feeling hot.
Eszter wrapped her arm around Dora and tried to pull her close. “It was the most merciful thing I could have done. But it’s still all my fault. It is.”
Dora didn’t want to be hugged by her mom. She sat up, resisting Eszter. “How could you have not tried to save him?”
“He was already gone.”
“There is always a chance. There had to be a chance.”
Eszter didn’t try to defend herself or explain further. She looked down, and Ferenc did the same. They let Dora cry, hunched over her lap, rocking herself back and forth. Dora thought back to Bence, the cemetery groundskeeper, and how he wanted Dora to tell Eszter they knew it was a mistake. She couldn’t say it. No, not right now.
When her tears finally began subsiding, Eszter squeezed Dora’s hand. “There is one more thing.”
Dora didn’t know if she could handle one more thing.
“He wanted
me to tell you that he loves you.”
“What?” Dora didn’t think she heard Eszter right.
“It was one of the last things Boldiszar said. He loves you.”
Dora’s mind stopped, halted, ran into a wall. She didn’t move, her eyes glued to her mom’s unflinching face.
“It’s true,” Eszter whispered.
Boldiszar loved her? She always thought he cared for her like a sister, but love? That was something else entirely. That was what she felt when they kissed at the lake, and what she thought about before she went to bed every night. That was what she hoped for, but what was never confirmed. Until now.
“I love him too.”
“I know.” This time, Eszter was successful at pulling Dora into her. Dora started crying even more, hating her mom yet thankful for her all at the same time.
“I’m sorry, Dora.” Eszter ran her fingers through Dora’s hair.
Dora didn’t know what to say. She had no idea if she would ever forgive her mom, and even alluding to that didn’t seem right. She could only express herself through the very physical manifestation of her sadness, which felt like a relief and burden all at once.
When she felt like all her tears had been sucked out of her, she hoisted herself off the ground. Looking down at Eszter, who could barely lift her head, Dora realized they were her mom’s only hope. And she was theirs. She knew what they had to do.
“We’ll get the envoy and come back for you,” Dora said. “Don’t move.”
“Just stay with Ferenc.”
“I will.”
Dora looked at Ferenc, who appeared so concerned Dora didn’t even know if he had the strength to go in search of the envoy. She saw that he had been crying too. She felt something rush through her, urging her to devote everything she had to him. After Boldiszar died, she never thought she’d regain that frantic energy again, the kind that made you want to do extraordinary things for someone else—the kind that made you think you could. That feeling, she knew, was love. It was a love not tempered by guilt, or anger, or untruths. It was a love made solely for action and for doing good. Tremulously gaining her balance, her hands shaking, Dora took a step away from Eszter.
“Let’s go.” She grabbed Ferenc’s hand.
*
The sun would rise in a couple hours. They found a doorway near the meeting place, and Dora let herself rest while Ferenc stood guard. She dreamed that she was sitting at her desk when her teeth started falling out and disappearing. She searched everywhere for them, believing that if she found them, the dentist could simply put them back in. She found her mom and begged for her help. “Have you seen them? Have you seen my teeth?” she yelled at Eszter in her dream. Eszter smiled, opening her hand to reveal all of Dora’s lost teeth. As Dora reached for the shiny, white pebbles, Eszter closed her fist and laughed.
“Look.” Ferenc woke up Dora, his voice hot on her neck.
“What?” She jolted, shocked at first, but relieved to feel all her teeth in place.
“Over there!” Ferenc pointed to two men, middle-aged and business-like, packing a black Zis. They kept looking back and forth every few seconds, inspecting their surroundings a little too closely.
“That’s it. That’s got to be the envoy.”
“But that car ….”
“Even smarter of them to use the same car as the secret police.”
“I don’t know.” Dora felt her legs start shaking. “I don’t feel good about this.”
“Let’s just go check it out,” Ferenc flashed Dora a grin and slipped his fingers into hers.
As they got closer to the Zis, one of the men hurried to the driver’s seat and started the engine. The other one continued packing the trunk, only looking at the boxes in his hands and nowhere else.
“Hello! Wait!” Ferenc ran toward them.
The man ignored them, quickly shoving the last box into the car.
“We know who you are,” Ferenc reached for his arm before he could slam shut the trunk.
He turned around and smiled warmly, though Dora noticed the edge of his lip quivering. “What do you mean? We are couriers, delivering our morning letters.”
“No, it’s okay, I’m supposed to go with you. I know Eszter. The dog ate the cat. The dog ate the cat.”
“Son, I don’t know what you are talking about, but I think you found the wrong people.” Shaking his head, the man, thin with slight, pale hands, closed the trunk and climbed into the front seat of the car.
Dora stood behind them, eyeing the other man, the driver, as he peered straight ahead. She didn’t believe them. In their black Zis, dressed in fitted coats, they seemed to be too delicate and serious for couriers. And why wasn’t the driver at least curious about what was going on?
“Excuse me, but we were sent here with explicit instructions from Eszter Turján. I am her daughter.” Dora stepped in front of Ferenc and caught the car door before the man could close it on them.
He paused, his black eyes jumping ever so slightly. He stared at Dora, taking in her face as his expression dropped from shocked to mournful. “We are not who you are looking for.” He buckled his seatbelt.
“I think you are,” Dora said.
“Please, leave us alone.” The man slammed the door on them.
The car started inching forward.
“You can’t go.” Ferenc banged on the windows. “The dog ate the cat! The dog ate the cat!” Ferenc tried to open the car door, but it was locked and too late. The Zis had found an opening in traffic. It peeled out into the lane, leaving them standing in the street, dumfounded.
“We can’t let them go,” Ferenc said, on the verge of breaking down. “We can’t let them go.”
“Then we won’t.” Dora started running. “Come on.”
Ferenc took off behind her, the two of them bounding down the sidewalk as they kept pace with the car. Dora willed herself to push through the fatigue of confusion and the cold, to just stay strong for Ferenc. Every time she started slowing, she felt her entire body sink, begging her to collapse onto the sidewalk. She was almost certain she had gotten sick from being outside in the cold for so long, or maybe Eszter gave her something. By the time they made it to the end of Andrássy út, huge black splotches had multiplied across her eyes. She wanted to faint.
Dodging the people and traffic accumulating in the early morning, the Zis wound through the streets. They managed to keep it in their view, though Dora’s breathing had grown haggard and she could hardly run anymore. Ferenc clutched Dora’s hand and pulled her along as the car turned into Városliget Park.
“It’s pulling over.”
“Where?”
“Behind that bush. I can see the top of it.”
“Get down,” Dora said. “If they see us, we’ll scare them off again.”
They crouched behind a barricade, still set up from yesterday’s rally in the park’s main square, where they could see plumes of car exhaust drifting into the icy morning.
“This isn’t good enough,” Ferenc whispered. “We need to see the actual car.”
“I know somewhere we can go.” Dora had played in this park as a kid and remembered her favorite hideouts. “Follow me.”
She took Ferenc’s hand and led him to a squat, rickety shed, which used to serve as the headquarters of her imaginary spy ring. Dora never thought she’d one day use this shed to actually spy on people. She kneeled down, locating a crack in the shed just wide enough for her, and Ferenc, to see through.
The Zis still sat there, idling, waiting for something.
From the corner of her eye, Dora saw a small figure hobbling lop-sided toward the car. As it got closer, she realized it was a woman draped in a worn, tattered blanket.
“Is that …?” Ferenc started.
The woman approached the car and whispered something to the driver.
“No,” Dora gasped.
The woman took off the blanket, revealing a long sheath of gray hair and a sickly hand. Her eyes flashed in Dora’s d
irection, and she saw in them a certain madness.
“Mom,” Dora said, this time loud and clear.
As Eszter climbed into the back seat of the car, Dora understood everything—Eszter had betrayed them.
“Mom!” Dora yelled, even as her voice closed in on itself.
Dora burst out of the shed and ran toward the car. She grabbed the back bumper, willing it to stay in place.
“Don’t go!” Dora shouted. This couldn’t be happening. It was all too fast. She had to stop them.
Eszter propped herself up on the Zis’ rear window. She rubbed the frost off the glass and peered out at Dora with a wide-eyed fright, like a child who knows she did something terribly wrong, but doesn’t understand what it is. A tear fell down Eszter’s cheek, just as the car’s engine started revving.
“Wait!” Dora cried, but the Zis jolted forward, throwing her to the ground. When Dora looked up, the car had moved out of reach. Within seconds it was speeding toward the street. In the back seat, Eszter’s head bobbed up and down, and grew smaller, as the Zis drove farther and farther away.
“No, no, no,” Dora sobbed, crumpling to a ball on the pavement, her tears choking her words, choking her thoughts, choking any desire to stay alive at all. Everything felt burning hot, even though her body convulsed in shivers. Dora barely noticed Ferenc as he hugged her and whispered, “It’s okay, it’s okay.” She just kept crying and crying into the gritty pavement beneath her.
Epilogue
Three Months Later
Dear (my beloved) Anika,
When I heard your name for the first time in Munich, I kept walking. Someone continued calling forth “Anika, Anika, Anika.” (Well, not really that name—the other one that is unmeasured more full of beauty—but I neglect to write it here for your safety. Of course, I am of aware you will be the first to read this because of your position, but I still take a caution with names now.)
I walked for three blocks, listening to that name until I finally turned backward. Of course, I saw two women smushing themselves into each other in a friendship embrace. I know I resemble being childish, but I thought, maybe, it was you. You comprehend, my hope has been leading me around so much these days that I fail to decipher between it and anything else. Chasing hope around is not a simple feat.
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