Boldiszar sat back down and began biting his fingernails, his eyebrows furrowing more and more with every nibble. I kept thinking about the boy who warned me I would only have ten minutes with Boldiszar. My time was almost up.
“What do you think I should do, Eszter? Would you follow these orders?”
“Yes, because they’re from Radio Free Europe. Do you know what’s behind that radio station? Money. Power. The West. That is what Hungary needs for this revolution to succeed.”
“You forgot us.”
“What do you mean?”
“The revolution needs us to succeed.”
I reached across the desk and grabbed Boldiszar’s hand. “Without people like you, and me, there wouldn’t be a revolution. But we need more now.”
“This is a huge risk, Eszter.”
“Your other risks have paid off, haven’t they? They led you to this point.”
“Because I have been smart.”
“And you trusted the right people,” I said.
Boldiszar paused. He stared at me without really seeing me, his eyes glossing over into a daze. He moved his mouth ever so slightly—maybe he was talking himself into, or out of, it.
“I trust you,” Boldiszar sighed. “We’re in.”
We crossed the river, abandoning the urban streets of Pest for the quiet hills of Buda. Our meeting point with the Americans was nothing more than a rickety old house, its paint peeling off in random patches to expose rotting, splintering wood. The house sat on top of a steep slope, its contours hardly discernable due to a string of broken streetlights. Darkness surrounded us, and with it, silence. We stared at the house and heard nothing. Of course the Americans would choose a secret meeting place, though I think we expected some indication of activity. Thousands of bureaucrats lived in these Buda hills and wouldn’t emerge from their apartments until the fighting ceased. I wondered how many of them peeked through their blinds now, following our every move.
“Will you go first, please?” Boldiszar asked me, pointing his gun toward the house.
I knew I would have to be the adult now. Boldiszar’s friends huddled behind us, like children afraid of what their parents would discover in the depths of their closet. They weren’t going anywhere. And if I said no to Boldiszar, or showed any hint of doubt, he would probably turn around. So I took a step forward, and it was small.
“What’s wrong?” Boldiszar’s voice cracked.
“Please,” I begged. “I need a second. I don’t know these people either.”
Boldiszar reached into his pocket and pulled out a miniature version of the Hungarian flag. The Communist coat of arms had been ripped out of its center, leaving a gaping hole in the cloth.
“It’s our flag,” he said.
“What do you mean?”
“We’re using this as a symbol of our movement. We’re making a new Hungary now.”
I looked at the tattered flag in his hand, rightfully gutted of its Soviet heart, and thought about how much Boldiszar, and all the young people, deserved to put whatever they wanted into the middle of that flag. I just wasn’t sure they knew what belonged there.
I squeezed Boldiszar’s hand, and the flag, and nodded.
An elderly man answered the door, staring at us as if we had lost our way. His clothes hung loose on his shoulders and his white hair sprouted in different directions, as if each strand was terrified of its neighbor. I coughed, hoping that would give me a second to think. Maybe we got the wrong house and should consider turning around. The chances this old man could retaliate against us seemed minimal though, so I decided to try our luck.
“We are here from Radio Free Europe,” I said.
The old man’s eyes widened, but he never said anything. Raising his hand, he summoned us into the house.
“Please,” I said. “We cannot stay for long. We are here to meet with the delegation.”
He nodded and continued walking back into the house. Following him, Boldiszar clutched his gun at his hip, and I positioned myself right next to him. Boldiszar’s gang remained on the porch. I caught their eyes peering through the windows and looked at them longingly. At least out there, they could run if they needed to.
A single light bulb illuminated the hallway. It swayed back and forth, very gently, as we passed it on our journey into the house. Decaying, vomit-colored wallpaper surrounded us, interrupted by wooden doors that led to who knows where. The smell of mold and rusting metal permeated the house, and so did silence.
“Where is everyone?” I asked the old man.
He ignored me. I imagined the Americans greeting us like heroes, or at least colleagues. I wondered what else wouldn’t pan out as I imagined.
“Go there,” he said, pointing down a stairwell that disappeared into a basement.
Boldiszar and I stopped, our eyes following the path of the man’s finger. We said nothing as we adjusted to the darkness before us. Not one ray of light emitted from the basement, and all we could hear was the old man breathing.
“This isn’t right,” I said to Boldiszar. I grabbed his elbow, prepared to direct him out of the house.
“No,” he pushed. “We are already here.”
“I really don’t think we have the correct address. Who knows who this delusional old man thinks we are?”
“He knows who we are.” Boldiszar nodded to him.
“Do you know him?”
“Yes,” he whispered. “He’s given me messages before. They’ve always worked.”
“Just because he’s been reliable in the past, it doesn’t mean he will be now.”
“You said we need this, Eszter.”
“We do.”
“Well, then, it’s my responsibility to do the hard things.”
“Hard, but not stupid. This feels stupid.”
Boldiszar adjusted his gun, tightening the strap around his chest. “Did you really think the Americans were going to make this easy for us? Did you think they would be so much better than the Soviets? We just need their weapons. That’s what I’m here for.”
He stretched his arm out across the hallway, preventing me from walking past him into the basement.
“Do not go past here. I’m going alone.”
“I shouldn’t let you do that. I don’t want anything to…,” I started, but I couldn’t finish my sentence, and my feet would not allow me to take even one step forward.
Boldiszar hugged me. His body shook against mine, his quaking racing up my spine to my neck.
“Wish me luck.”
“You don’t need it,” I said. “Just get the job done and get back here quickly. Don’t make any promises.”
“I promise,” Boldiszar winked. He kissed my cheek, took in a full breath of air, and started down the stairs.
I watched as the same boy who read to Dora on our living room floor, helped her pull out her first tooth, and gave her the love I never did, disappeared below the surface of the house. I waited at the top of the stairs for him, refusing to join his posse outside. Boldiszar still needed someone to watch over him.
The old man hobbled past me and down the stairs, leaving me alone in the darkness. The fear of something happening to Boldiszar increased as the minutes passed. I started to doubt that U.S. troops stood beneath me, awaiting the arrival of a student-turned-military commander. Why wouldn’t they just drop bombs on government buildings? Why would they risk their soldiers’ lives on us? Did the chief get some bad intelligence? Was she wrong? Was I wrong? My thoughts spiraled out of control, each question leading to another one with no answer.
I heard something. I didn’t quite know what it was, but it didn’t sound like anyone talking or negotiating. It sounded more like someone moving heavy boxes, and dropping them on the hard ground.