Gyorgy Dragoman - The White King

When we turned onto the narrow street the cemetery was on, I noticed that both sidewalks were filled with parked cars way up on the curb and that each side of the black wrought-iron double gate was open, and that inside the cemetery a whole bunch of folks were gathered around the flower stand and also at the chapel, where everyone was carrying bouquets or big wreaths with ribbons in the national colors or in red or black, and I asked Mother why we hadn't brought flowers, to which she said that as I could see for myself, there would be plenty of flowers here, and my grandmother had called us dirty Jews so many times anyway that we might as well put a rock on the grave instead if need be, and besides, it was all the same to my grandfather, she didn't think the old man would be bothered much to see one more or one less bouquet, especially not like this, with his funeral being made into such a public spectacle.

Up until then I'd seen so many people in one place only when we were preparing for the visit of the commander of the armed forces, though there were a lot more police there, here I saw only around fifteen or sixteen of them, standing in uniforms by the cemetery entrance, and right then a short man in a hat went by us and I heard him say to another man next to him, "It seems the police are worried that something is brewing here, which is why so many of them turned out," but the other man just shook his head and said, "Oh come on, what can happen at a funeral, they'll bury the old man and then everyone will go on home just like they should, and that will be that," but the man in the hat replied that he didn't buy that, because he'd heard that… But right then Mother and I got up beside them, and as soon as they saw us they got all quiet, the man tipped his hat and both of them told us to accept their sympathies and that they were really sorry about my poor grandfather, and once again I didn't know what I was supposed to reply, but Mother said right away that she thanked them for their kindness and also for having come, so I also said thank you, and they nodded and went on toward the mortuary, the crowd was already really pretty big over by that building, and parked along the edge of the cemetery's broad main promenade were all these old-fashioned black cars sparkling with wax, cars with Party license plate numbers, I think I even saw a couple of old Soviet specials like Pobedas and Chaikas and Moskoviches, and of course Renaults and Citroens, the ambassador we went to one time to ask for help finding out what happened to Father was also there, he was smoking a cigarette while leaning up against one of those black cars, I recognized him even though I saw him only from behind, but luckily Mother didn't notice, no, I don't think she would have been too happy about meeting up with him.

Even though the main promenade was pretty long, from far away I could see big black flags fluttering on top of the cemetery's new mortuary at the end of that path, and as we went along, Mother tripped all of a sudden. "It's okay," she said, explaining that the clasp had loosened up on her shoe, that was all, I should wait a minute while she adjusted it, and she squatted. Meanwhile I took out of my pocket the medal I got from my grandfather for my birthday, and with one hand I undid its safety pin and pinned the medal over my heart, right where my grandfather had pinned it back when he wore it, and I pricked myself a bit while trying to fasten the medal to myself, but what did I care.

Mother noticed that medal the moment she stood up, and I knew she was about to tell me to take it off, but before she could have said a thing, this lady stopped right beside us, she came over so fast that I could even hear the swishing of her skirt, and she had on a hat that was bigger and had a wider brim than any hat I'd ever seen before, and this black veil was hanging from that hat all around so you couldn't make out the lady's face at all, and for a moment I thought that maybe it was my grandmother, but then I saw that it wasn't, this lady was much taller and much thinner, and when she then folded the veil back over the top of her hat I saw that she was much older too, not that I knew who the lady was, but she must have recognized us, for she said to Mother right away, "Hey there, dear," and she leaned close to Mother's face and gave her a peck on each cheek, and then she stepped back and all of a sudden she began crying really loud, and she raised an arm and pressed a big white handkerchief to her eyes and just stood there like that for around two seconds, and as she pressed that handkerchief to her eyes I noticed that she had on white threaded gloves, but she'd slipped a big ring with a seal on it onto her ring finger over the glove, and now that the handkerchief was covering this old lady's face completely, Mother gave a little hiss in my direction, motioning with her head that we should go, but then all of a sudden the lady lowered the handkerchief, her eyes were glistening with tears, and she said what a sad day this was, seeing as how this dear man had left us like this, and then she leaned close to Mother and asked, in a whisper, "Is it true what people are saying, did he really kill himself?"

Mother shook her head and said she didn't know, and she gave me a little wink to signal that we should get going already, and she said, "Don't be angry, dear Miss Yvonne, but we must be going," and as she stepped away the old lady grabbed Mother's arm and yanked her back, pulling mother right up to her and whispering with such a hiss that I could hear it clearly too, that she would have my mother know that my grandfather had killed himself because he'd always loved her, his dear sweet Yvonne, yes, he'd shot himself in the heart because he could no longer bear having lived his life without her and that she would also have my mother know that my grandmother hid his farewell letter because that would reveal the truth. "But it's all right, it's all right," she said, "fate will do him justice, anyway, you'll see, you will, yes indeed," and she nodded so hard while saying this that the veil fell back over her face. Then she began sobbing again, and she pressed the handkerchief to her eyes through the veil this time, and that's when Mother took my arm and pulled me with her toward the mortuary, saying we should go because we really wouldn't get there for the start of the service, and I looked back because I was scared the old lady would come after us, but she didn't move an inch, no, she just stood there on the sidewalk along the cemetery's broad main promenade adjusting her hat, so then I asked Mother what this was all about, and she said it was nothing, just Miss Yvonne, a crazy old woman who used to be my grandmother's best friend a long time ago and who was obsessed by the thought that Grandfather should have married her instead, for years she kept on his heels and stirred up awful scenes all the time, but this didn't matter now, we shouldn't talk about it, I should just forget the whole thing because we were just about there anyway.

The funeral march sounded a bit distorted and scratchy as it blared away from big black speakers set up on stands, and the closer we got, the more of a crowd there was, but all we had to say was "Sorry, please let us by," and everyone stepped dutifully to the side, looking at us like we were famous people or something, lots of folks said hello and almost everyone said my grandfather was a fine man and how sorry they were, and they asked us to accept their sincere sympathies, and Mother just kept nodding left and right, and I also nodded a lot, and that's how we went on ahead toward the main steps all the way up to the huge, black, gold-inlaid double door, which I'd never seen open before, not that I'd been at too many funerals, especially not one like this, and by now people were standing all over the steps, but when they saw Mother they stepped right aside, and then we went up the steps between all those men in dark suits and women in black outfits, and we went in the door.