The next few days tumbled by in a series of enlarged silences and awkward pleasantries between Dora and Ivan. Anytime Eszter’s name began to surface, Dora focused the conversation on something else, reverting to her well-developed habit of avoiding anything related to Eszter. Dora spent a considerable length of time going over the reasons why Ivan would consciously decide to tell her about her mom’s trial. She considered that he wanted her to take some sort of action, and that while he could never ask for it, he could inform Dora about the situation and hope she would rise to the occasion. But, Ivan wouldn’t ever want Dora to do that sort of work, not after relentlessly shielding her from the underground world for all of these years. She also wondered whether her dad was planning on executing some sort of plan that would endanger him and this was his way of letting Dora know why he, too, may disappear one day. That theory seemed a bit far-fetched, given Ivan’s insistence that they remain within the government’s good graces. The only conclusion could be that Ivan truly had a lapse in judgment, a momentary breakdown that, unfortunately, Dora witnessed. That theory was confirmed when Ivan eventually apologized for his behavior and told Dora, without one hint of pain or sadness, that there really wasn’t much they could do, safely at least.
Dora tried to follow Ivan’s advice. She wanted to for her own good, hoping things would go back to the way they used to be. She focused all of her attention on resuming her normal lifestyle. She continued following Ferenc everywhere, but with one little change. During the day, if he ever even went by the Ministry of Interior, Dora would meander off in the opposite direction.
Her stalking skills grew increasingly better. She learned little tricks, like if Ferenc walked into an empty street, she would wait until she could barely make out his footsteps before slipping behind him. She would leapfrog from doorway to doorway until they entered a more crowded area, where she could hide between people, cars, and the debris of everyday life. Since Ferenc followed a predictable course throughout the day, she learned how to go unnoticed in and out of his daily activities. Usually when she stepped away from him for long periods of time, it was only for lunch, dinner, or sleep. She refused to meet him as Anika either, though a part of her wanted to, especially when she noticed him talking to other women.
Dora’s feelings for Ferenc grew stronger as she observed his life more and more. She found herself particularly taken by Ferenc when he was interacting with his sister, especially the way he shuffled her hair or how he made sure to hug and kiss her before she went to school every morning. Dora had spent her life surrounded by people who saw kindness as a weakness. It wouldn’t get you far in this country, she had been told. But Ferenc somehow possessed the courage to believe it would. It mystified Dora, and drew her to him.
At night, as Dora fell asleep, she thought about kissing Ferenc, exploring their relationship while only on the brink of consciousness. She wanted to be with him, but in a different time and place. She imagined herself wearing a white cotton dress, standing on a beach in France, and meeting Ferenc for the first time. Relaxed, yet full of energy, she’d strike up a conversation with him, smiling and blushing at the appropriate times. They would stay at the beach, forgetting about the plans they made, and instead feeling like every second was the best second of their lives. When the sun set, he would ask her to accompany him to dinner, and she would say yes, not even worried about getting ready or refreshing her makeup. Dora usually drifted off to sleep at that point, excited for what would never happen.
Meanwhile, Ferenc hadn’t written a letter in weeks. With increasing persistence, Joszef asked Dora about Ferenc, and if she had found any proof of his deviance. Dora still held on to the first two letters, unable to let Joszef see the horrifying descriptions of her mom or Ferenc’s admission to teaming up with Eszter to escape, which would be a certain jail or death sentence for him, and maybe the latter for her mom. She didn’t know what she was going to do. Sometimes, when she stopped in to work, she would find Joszef examining the documents neatly stacked on her desk. He always acted so cavalier about it, as if he had a right to sort through her things.
Once, she came back to work to see a memo on her desk detailing the repercussions leveraged on a colleague who had hoarded mail in his desk for years. Once they discovered his crime, they sent him straight to a labor camp. On top of the memo sat a note that read, “Please file —J.” Dora understood Joszef’s warning, and even took it with a modicum of appreciation. She would rather he do that than discuss her transgressions with her. She still didn’t have a plan, but at least she had some time. Joszef never acted quickly. If this was truly a warning, it would be weeks before a second or third one came, and even longer, hopefully, until he pursued any sort of disciplinary measures.
Dora had always harbored strong feelings about right and wrong. It was right for her to avoid any relationship with Eszter. She understood the rightness of it, not from her own perspective, but from a global one too. It was right for Eszter too. She enjoyed a life independent of Dora and Ivan. Dora remembered the moment she realized that, on some level, Eszter didn’t belong to them, nor did she want to.
Dora couldn’t fall asleep that night, a common problem that scared her as a child. At the age of eight, she had just been introduced to the notion of death, and ghosts, for that matter. She imagined them surrounding her at night, terrified that if she closed her eyes, they would invade her bedroom. Boldiszar had advised her to sleep with the lights on, but the light in her room had gone out, and she needed someone to fix it. She would have woken up Ivan, but he always jumped up violently in shock whenever she roused him in the middle of a deep sleep. Dora heard someone in the kitchen, as she usually did late at night. Eszter never went to bed when they did.
Dora wandered toward the kitchen, eyes straining to adjust to the brightness—her room had been so dark—when she saw her mom talking on the phone. Though she couldn’t make out what Eszter was saying, Dora could sense her excitement. Eszter’s free hand gestured colorfully, and she kept smiling. Dora couldn’t even remember a time when Eszter truly smiled, rather than straining her lips into a lop-sided grin. When Eszter did finally turn around to see Dora standing there, her eyes froze, mid-rise, before sinking into her cheeks. Her smile retreated. She placed the phone on her shoulder, and sighed, “Are you okay?”
Dora burst into tears. She was only eight, but she knew the difference between love and indifference. She shuffled to her parents’ room, shocking Ivan out of sleep, and cried in his arms. Eszter never rushed to comfort her. As Ivan stroked Dora’s hair, she could hear the faint murmur of her mom’s voice still on the phone.
So when Dora agreed to avoid speaking to Eszter all together, she didn’t feel like it was a completely selfish decision. It was the right thing to do, given that Eszter inhabited a completely different world, by choice. And it was to that world she went, whatever consequences it bore. She would be relieved of Dora, and Dora of her.
The thought of her mom dying, and disrupting the steady balance of worlds that made up her universe, terrified Dora. Without Eszter, Dora wouldn’t have anything to measure rightness against or structure her perspective. Eszter deserved the fairest trial she could get. It was her only hope, really, and seemed like a virtually impossible feat, given her current state.