The Reluctant Refugee by Decsy George M.;

Author:Decsy, George M.;
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Brown Dog Books

CHAPTER 8

BAD NEWS

“There is a letter for you at the office.” The message was delivered to our hut by Linda, one of the office ladies.

She looked at Gita blankly. I noticed the change from her usual chirpy self but did not make the connection.

We followed Linda back to the office in silence.

Edged in black, the unopened envelope was on top of the pile in the in tray.

The blood drained out of Gita’s face. She swayed a little, looked at me blankly, shakily reached for the letter.

Tearing open the envelope, she scanned the letter rapidly before breaking into sobs followed by uncontrollable wailing. She started tearing at her hair, collapsed, thrashing on the floor.

I prised the letter from my mother’s fingers and read the short note.

Paraphrasing: we regret to inform you that Dr. Mihály Gyula’s (Julius) body was found hanging from a tree in the vicinity of Lake Balaton. Verdict: Suicide.

It was a short, formal note from some Hungarian government department.

My first thought was, how did they know where we were?

I had to read the letter twice to make sure I understood it properly. I could not believe what I had just read, this was not possible. For the past months we had all lived fully expecting him to show up at any time. The family had been counting on his arrival to take charge of our lives once again. Get us out of this camp, back to some semblance of a ‘normal’ life. I also knew that when he arrived Victor would rapidly be shown the door.

My mother was on the floor convulsing. I tried to pick her up and comfort her, but she was inconsolable and pushed me away.

She sobbed, gulping huge lungfuls of air as she thrashed on the hard linoleum floor.

Kind hands helped her to her feet, stroking with soothing words, until she was able to just sit in a heap whimpering quietly. I embraced her and joined her in tears.

I was totally unprepared to deal with this latest twist in our turmoil-filled lives. The imminent arrival of Julius made the chaos, the dislocations, the strange language and bad food bearable. Repeatedly Gita had told me that when he arrived all our problems would disappear. In spite of my protestations I was sternly told to go back to our hut and not to say a word to A&M.

There was no one there. Filled with foreboding, I lay down on my bed and stared at the ceiling.

Hope turned to anger; this was all my mother’s fault. She had taken the family from what was a good, comfortable life to this strange land where we had to live in a wooden hut surrounded by barbed wire. Did Mr. Pipe have anything to do with this? I needed someone to blame and he was an obvious target.

All the pent-up resentment over the previous weeks now poured out of me. I hated her for what she had done to our lives and saw nothing but bad food and misery ahead. Wallowing in despair, I refused to eat or get out of bed.

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