mised to build a new Eden! There! Have a good look! There’s our Eden! That’s what we’ve come to, damn the miserable scoundrel! He enticed us here, here to this waste land, while we. .! Fucking sheep!. .” “While he,” Schmidt picked up the thread, “gleefully scuttles off in the opposite direction! Who knows where he is now? We could be looking for him the rest of our lives!. .” “And who knows in which bar he’s gambling away our money?!” “A whole year’s work!” Schmidt continued, his voice shaking. “A whole year of miserable scrimping and saving! I’m back where I was, without a penny again!” Kráner started stalking up and down like an animal in a cage, his fists clenched, giving more occasional swipes in the air. “But he’ll regret it! He’ll be damn sorry, the bastard! Kráner is not the sort of man to let such things go! I’ll find him if I have to look in every nook and cranny! And I swear I’ll strangle him with my bare hands. With these!” He held his hands up. Futaki raised a nervous hand. “Not so fast! Not so fast with that threat! What if he appears in a couple of minutes! Where’s all this ranting going to get you then? Eh?!!” Schmidt sprang to his feet. “You dare to open your mouth?! You dare to say a word?! Where’s that going to get us?! It’s you I have to thank for being robbed! Who else but you?!” Kráner went up to Futaki and looked deep into his eyes. “Wait!” said Futaki and took a deep breath. “All right! We’ll wait two minutes! Two entire minutes! And then we’ll see. . what will be will be!” Kráner pulled Schmidt along with him and they stood together at the threshold of the main entrance, Kráner spreading his feet and swaying back and forth. “Well! So now we’re ready! And there he is, just coming,” Schmidt mocked, turning to Futaki. “You hear?! Here comes your savior! You poor bastard!” “Shut up!” Kráner interrupted him and squeezed Schmidt’s arm. “Let’s wait the full two minutes! Then we’ll see what he has to say, him and his big mouth!” Futaki rested his head on his knees. There was absolute silence. Mrs. Schmidt sat huddled in the corner, terrified. Halics gave a great gulp then, because he had some vague idea of what might happen, almost inaudibly said, “It’s really awful. . that even at a time. . like this. . I mean, each other. .!” The headmaster rose. “Gentlemen,” he addressed Kráner, trying to calm him: “What’s all this?! This is no solution! Think it over and — ” “Shut up, you ass!” Kráner hissed at him and seeing his threatening look the headmaster quickly sat down again. “So, friend?” Schmidt asked dully with his back to Futaki, gazing down the path. “Is the two minutes up yet?” Futaki raised his head and hugged his knees. “Tell me, what’s the point of this performance. Do you really think I can do anything about it?” Schmidt grew beetroot red. “So who convinced me in the bar? Huh?” and he slowly moved towards Futaki: “Who kept telling me I should take it easy because this and that and the other will be all right, eh?” “Are you out of your mind, buddy?” Futaki replied raising his own voice, beginning to twitch nervously. “Have you gone mad?” But Schmidt was in front of him by then so he couldn’t get up. “Give me my money back,” Schmidt snarled, his eyes wide and bloodshot. “You heard what I said!? Give me back my money!” Futaki pressed his back against the wall. “There’s no point in asking me for your money! Come to your senses!” Schmidt closed his eyes. “I’m asking you for the last time, give me my money!” “Listen everyone,” Futaki cried. “Get him away from me, he’s really gone —!” but he couldn’t finish what he was saying because Schmidt, with all his strength, kicked him in the face. Futaki’s head snapped back and for a second he sat absolutely still, the blood starting to gush from his nose, then slowly slipped to one side. By that time the women, Halics, and the headmaster had leapt over, twisted Schmidt’s arm behind his back, and then with great difficulty, not without a violent struggle, dragged him away. Kráner grinned nervously in the entrance, his arms crossed, then started moving towards Schmidt. Mrs. Schmidt, Mrs. Kráner and Mrs. Halics were screaming and fussing in terror around the unconscious Futaki, until Mrs. Schmidt pulled herself together, took a rag, ran out to the terrace, dipped it in a puddle and ran back with it. She knelt down by Futaki and started wiping his face, then turned on the weeping Mrs. Halics, shouting, “Instead of blubbering you could do something useful like fetching another rag, a bigger one, to soak up the blood!”. . Futaki was slowly regaining consciousness and opened his eyes to stare blankly first at the sky, then at Mrs. Schmidt’s anxious face as she leaned over him. Feeling a sharp pain, he tried to sit up. “For heaven’s sake, don’t do anything, just lie still!” Mrs. Kráner shouted at him. “You’re still bleeding!” They laid him down again on the blanket and Mrs. Kráner tried to wash the blood off his clothes while Mrs. Halics knelt beside Futaki, quietly praying. “Get that witch away from me!” groaned Futaki. “I’m still alive. .” Schmidt was gasping for breath in another corner, clearly confused, pressing his fists into his groin as if that were the only way he could keep himself from moving. “Really!” the headmaster shook his head as he stood together with Halics with his back to Schmidt to block his way in case he tried to attack Futaki again. “Really, I can’t believe what I’m seeing! You’re a grown man! What are you thinking of? You just go and assault someone? You know what I call it? I call it bullying, that’s what I call it!” “Leave me alone,” Schmidt answered through gritted teeth. “That’s right!” Kráner said, stepping closer: “This has nothing to do with you! Why are you so determined to poke your nose in everywhere? In any case the clown deserved it!. .” “You shut up, you low life!” the headmaster snapped back: “You. . you were the one who encouraged him to do it! You think I can’t hear? You’d better keep quiet!” “What I suggest, pal. .,” hissed Kráner with a dark look, seizing the headmaster, “What I suggest is that you get out of here while the going is good!. . I don’t advise you to pick a quarrel with — ” At that moment a resonant, severe, self-confident voice cut across them: “What’s going on here?!” Everyone turned around to the threshold. Mrs. Halics gave a fearful cry, Schmidt leapt to his feet and Kráner took an involuntary step back. Irimiás stood there. His seal-gray raincoat was buttoned up to the chin, his hat drawn far down his brow. He stuck his hands deep into his pockets and surveyed the scene with piercing eyes. A cigarette dangled from his lips. There was stony silence. Even Futaki sat up, then tried to stand, swaying a little, but hid the rag behind his back, the blood still dribbling from his nose. Mrs. Halics crossed herself in astonishment then quickly lowered her hands because Halics was signaling to her to stop it immediately. “I asked what’s going on?” Irimiás repeated threateningly. He spat out the cigarette and stuck a new one in the corner of his mouth. The estate stood before him, their heads hung low. “We thought you weren’t coming. .” Mrs. Kráner wavered and gave a forced smile. Irimiás looked at his watch and angrily tapped the glass. “It says six-forty-three. The watch is accurate.” Barely audible Mrs. Kráner replied, “Yes, but. . but you said you’d come at night. .” Irimiás furrowed his brow. “What do you think I am, a taxi driver? I work my fingers to the bone for you, I don’t sleep for three days, I walk for hours in the rain, I rush from one meeting to another to overcome various obstacles, while you. .?!” He took a step toward them, cast an eye at their makeshift beds then stopped in front of Futaki. “What happened to you?” Futaki hung his head in shame. “I got a nosebleed.” “I can see that. But how?” Futaki made no answer. “See here, . ” Irimiás gave a sigh, “this isn’t what I expected of you, friends. From any of you!” he continued, turning to the others. “If this is how you start what do you think you are going to do next? Stabbing each other? Shut up. .,” he waved away Kráner who wanted to say something, “I’m not interested in the details! I’ve seen quite enough. It’s sad, I can tell you, pretty damn sad!” He walked up and down in front of them with a grave face then, when he had returned to his original spot at the entrance, he turned around to face them again. “Look, I have no idea what exactly happened here. Nor do I want to know because time is too precious to spend it dealing with such piddling matters. But I won’t forget. Least of all you, Futaki, my friend, I’ll not forget you. But I will overlook it this time, on one condition, that it never happens again! Is that clear?!” He waited a moment, ran his hand across his brow and with a careworn expression continued: “All right, let’s get down to business!” he drew deeply on the tiny remnant of his cigarette then threw it down and stamped on it. I have some important news.” It was as if they were just now emerging from some evil spell. They were sober at a stroke but they simply couldn’t understand what had happened to them in the last few hours: What demonic power had taken possession of them, stifling every sane and rational impulse? What was it that had driven them to lose their heads and attack each other “like filthy pigs when the swill is late’? What made it possible for people like them — people who had finally managed to emerge from years of apparently terminal hopelessness to breathe the dizzying air of freedom — to rush around in senseless despair, like prisoners in a cage so that even their vision had clouded over? What explanation could there be for them to “have eyes” only for the ruinous, stinking, desolate aspect of their future home, and completely lose track of the promise that “what had fallen should rise again’! It was like waking from a nightmare. They formed a humble circle around Irimiás, more ashamed than relieved, because, in their unforgivable impatience, they had all doubted the one man who could save them, a man who, even if he had been delayed a few brief hours, had after all kept his promise, and to whom they had every reason to be grateful; and the agonizing sense of shame was only increased by the knowledge that he had not the least idea how far they had doubted him and taken his name in vain, accusing him of all kinds of crimes, he who had “risked his life” for them and who now was standing among them as living proof of the falseness of their allegations. And so, with this extra load on their conscience, they listened to him with a greater and still more unshakable confidence, and were enthusiastically nodding even before they knew what he was talking about, especially Kráner and Schmidt who were particularly aware of the gravity of their sins, although the “changed, less favorable circumstances” Irimiás now referred to might well have soured their mood, since it turned out that “our plans for Almássy Manor have to be suspended for an indefinite period” because certain groups “wouldn’t take” to a project with an “as yet unclear purpose” being established here, and had objected particularly, as they learned from Irimiás, to the considerable distance between the manor and the town that made getting to the “manor” all but impractical for them, which in turn reduced the prospect of regular inspections to less than the required bare minimum. . “Given this situation,” Irimiás continued, sweating a little but still resonant, “the only possibility of bringing our plans to a successful conclusion, the only possible way forward, is for us to disperse into various parts of the country until these gentlemen entirely lose track of us, at which point we can return here and set about realizing our original objectives.”. . They acknowledged their “particular importance in the scheme of things” with a growing sense of pride, especially prizing their privilege in being considered “the chosen few” while appreciating the recognition of their qualities of steadfastness, industry and increasing vigilance that were considered, apparently, quite indispensable. And if some aspects of the scheme lay beyond them (especially phrases like “our goal points to something beyond itself’) it was immediately clear to them that their dispersal was just “a strategic ploy” and that even if they were to have no contact with each other for a while they would continue to be in lively, continual communication with Irimiás. . “Not that anyone should think,” the master raised his voice, “that we can just sit and wait for things to improve by themselves during this time!” They registered, with an astonishment that quickly passed, that their task was to be the unceasing, vigilant observation of their immediate surroundings, meaning that they should rigorously note down all opinions, rumors and events which “from the perspective of our agreement might be of the utmost importance” and that they should all develop the indispensable skill of distinguishing between favorable and unfavorable signs, or, to put it in plain language, “knowing the good from the bad”, because he — Irimiás — sincerely hoped that no one would seriously think it possible to take a single step forward down the path he had revealed to them in such painstaking detail without it. . So when Schmidt asked “And what will we live on in the meanwhile?” and Irimiás assured them, “Relax, everyone, relax: it’s all planned, all thought through, you will all have jobs, and to begin with you will be able to draw on basic survival funds out of mutual, accumulated funds,” the last traces of their early morning panic vanished at a stroke and all that remained for them was to pack up their belongings and take them down to the end of the path where an idling truck was waiting for them on the metalled road. . So they did pack up again in a feverish hurry and, after a little awkwardness, started chatting to each other as if nothing had happened, Halics setting the best example who, with a bag or suitcase in his hand would follow now the bear-like Kráner, now the striding, manly figure of his wife, sneaking behind them like a monkey, imitating them, and who, once he had finished his own packing, carried the luggage of the uncertainly swaying Futaki over to the road, remarking only that “a friend in need is a friend indeed. .” By the time they had succeeding in bringing everything down to the side of the road, the “kid” had managed to turn the truck around (Irimiás had, after long pleadings, relented and allowed him a go at the wheel), so there was nothing left after that than to take a brief silent look of farewell at the “manor” that was to be their future, and to take their places on the open truck. “So, my dear companions,” Petrina stuck his head through the passenger’s window. “Please arrange yourselves so that this dizzyingly fast miracle of transport might get us to our destination in at least two hours! Button your coats, on with your hoods and hats, hold on tight, and feel free to turn your back on the great hope of your future because if you don’t you’ll get the full force of this filthy rain in your faces. .” The baggage took up a good half of the open truck so the only way they could all fit in was by huddling close to each other in two rows, and it was no surprise that, when Irimiás revved the engine and the truck juddered and started back towards the town, they felt the just the same enthusiasm for the warmth of “the unbreakable bond between them” as had sweetened their memorable journey the day before. Kráner and Schmidt were particularly loud in their determination never again to give vent to idiotic rages and to declare that, if there should be any future disagreement, they would be the first to put an immediate stop to it. Schmidt — who had tried in the midst of all this merry badinage, to signal to Futaki to indicate that “he deeply regretted what he had done” (partly because he had somehow failed to “bump into him” along the path, but partly because he lacked the necessary courage) — had only now decided to offer him “at least a cigarette” but found himself jammed in between Halics and Mrs. Kráner, both of whom were immovable. “