Gyorgy Dragoman - The White King

That's when my grandmother began crying out really loud, and she staggered and almost fell, so Comrade Bherekméri's secretary had to grab hold of her, and through her tears my grandmother told him something, all I understood was "coffin," and then the secretary took a blue handkerchief from his pocket and handed it to my grandmother, and he went over to the pulpit and whispered something into Comrade Bherekméri's ear, at which Comrade Bherekméri knit his brow and shook his head hard and cleared his throat, and meanwhile he gathered the pages of his speech, which had slipped all over, rolled them cylindrically lengthwise, and tapped the bottom edge against the pulpit until the pages formed a nice neat stack, and then he began reading again, but he picked up not where he'd left off, with that hair ointment and the wager, no, instead he began this really long sentence about how when he and my grandfather had begun their struggle, they knew full well that they themselves would not be able to enjoy its fruits, that they would not live to see their dream fulfilled, but they'd struggled bravely all the same because the future was much, much more important than their own happiness, it was much more important than… but I never did hear what was more important to my grandfather than his own happiness because that's right when my grandmother shook herself free of Comrade Bherekméri's secretary's hand and took a step toward the podium, and she shouted right at Comrade Bherekméri, "Aren't you ashamed of yourself, Pista, for lying in my face, what do you mean the coffin can't be opened, you know full well it can be opened, why are you doing this?" And then she stepped over to the coffin and slammed her fist down on it, and she shouted that they should open it up at once because after all this she wanted to see my grandfather one more time, one last time, it was her right to say farewell to him, and besides, she'd heard that all sorts of gossip was being spread about my grandfather having shot his head to smithereens, which was supposedly why the coffin was closed, so she wanted to put an end to every shred of such malicious hearsay once and for all, every last doubt about him having died by his own hand had to be done away with, every shadow of a doubt, she was sure my grandfather would also want this, yes, he too would insist on it by all means. "So open it up," she shrieked, because if they didn't, why then she would do it herself, it was her right, did they understand, her right.

Comrade Bherekméri's face was almost as red as his leather folder as he now slammed his sheets of paper down on the pulpit, I could tell it was all he could do to keep hold of himself, but then he let out a big puff of air and said, "Naturally, no problem," but the edges of his mouth were twitching as he nodded to his secretary, who then went over to the tapestried door, opened it, and went out, and Comrade Bherekméri said that for his part he'd go on with the speech, with paying our respects to our dear departed, and for a while he went back to putting his sheets of paper in order, and then he began reading his speech once again, but I wasn't paying attention anymore because I noticed the little door open again and two of the gravediggers come in, one of them had a monkey wrench and the other had a crowbar, so anyway, they went over to the coffin and got down to removing the screws from the black-painted varnished wood one after another, they worked really fast, not even thirty seconds had gone by and they'd already removed all three screws from the left side of the coffin, and then they went over to the other side, where the last screw took them some doing, but then that screw came out too, and they put their tools on the floor next to the coffin, and one of them stepped over to one end of the coffin and the other to the other end, and they grabbed the top of the coffin and in one swift move they lifted it right off, except that I couldn't see the inside of the coffin because they'd turned the top lengthwise and put it up against our end of the coffin, blocking the inside from my view, so all I could see was the red velvet lining in swollen pleats on the bottom half, and although the lavender smell of my grandfather's face cream then hit my nose, I knew I was just imagining this because no doubt they'd spread some sort of embalming fluid over his face. Then I heard the crowd in the mortuary let out loud gasps, much louder than when Miss Yvonne had come in, at first I thought it was only because the coffin had opened up and they could see my grandfather, but then Mother grabbed my arm and turned toward the door, and the crowd by the door began to part, and everyone looked in that direction, and by then Mother was squeezing my arm really tight and I heard her say, "It's your father, they're bringing your father," and then everyone began saying all sorts of things really loud, I heard them say my father's name and that he'd supposedly been at the Danube Canal, but someone else said he'd heard that my father had been in a reeducation camp, and then I too looked in the direction everyone else was facing, and I could see five people coming in through the crowd and one of them really was Father, yes, I recognized him right away even though I couldn't see his face, he was taking little steps with his head bent down, and he was in the same gray suit he had on when they took him away, and he was surrounded by five men in black uniforms of a sort I'd never seen, and even though everyone in the crowd had stepped aside to let them by, they were coming in pretty slowly, the uniformed men were now up front and Father was staring at the floor the whole time, and even though lots of people were saying his name, Father didn't raise his head, no, he didn't look at anyone at all, and I noticed that he was handcuffed in front and that a long chain was attached to the cuffs in the middle and that one of the guards was holding the other end of the chain, and even though Father's feet weren't shackled, he was taking such small steps that his ankles seemed to be chained together, and I knew I should run right over and give him a hug, and then Mother, who was still standing there beside me, said, "Holy Christ," and she had to lean up against me, and I felt the strength leaving my legs also, but I pulled myself together and told Mother not to be scared, Father was now here, now there wouldn't be any more trouble, but all Mother could say this time was "My God," and I heard her take gasping breaths, and meanwhile the guards had led Father slowly over to the platform, not to our side but across from us, to the other side of the coffin, and they stopped around six feet from the coffin. The guard holding the chain yanked at it and then Father gradually looked up, and that is when I saw his face and felt my belly bunch up, his face was gray with stubble and he'd lost a lot of weight, but that's not what scared me, no, it was his eyes, his completely blank stare, I knew he had to see us by now, he had to see Mother and Grandmother and me too, but his blank stare just wouldn't go away, as if he didn't know at all where he was, his eyes were glittering like glass and it occurred to me that it wasn't Father I was seeing, no, it was no longer him, he didn't remember me or Mother anymore, he didn't remember a thing, and he didn't even know himself anymore, and then I heard Mother give a sniffle, I was still looking at Father and hoping he'd say something, that he'd come to, that he'd notice me and say something, that he'd yank his hand out of that chain and come over to us and give us a hug, give me a hug and give Mother a hug, that he wouldn't just stand there, that he'd come to right away, and then I heard Mother give one more sniffle and gulp air, and I knew she was trying to keep from crying, to swallow her tears because she didn't want Father to see them, and I knew I was about to give a shout, to call out to Father, and right then Father's nostrils flared, he took two wheezing sniffs of air, but the third time he inhaled he did so deeply, and then all at once he batted his eyelashes, winced, and looked down at the open coffin, and that's when I peered down there for the first time, the pleated red-velvet lining practically swallowed up my grandfather, yes, he looked a lot smaller and thinner lying there in the coffin, I looked at his face but couldn't see any injury, his skin glistened in the same oily way it had in life and his mouth was a bit open, almost all his medals were pinned to him, covering practically his whole chest, and then I thought I saw blood soaked completely through the gray fabric between the medals right above his heart, but I knew I was just imagining it, that all I really saw was the coffin's pleated red velvet reflecting off his burnished medals, and I was also imagining the smell of clotted blood, and then I thought to myself that this whole thing couldn't be true, I was just imagining that they'd brought Father back, that he was standing there on the other side of the coffin, but then I looked up and saw that Father was still there, he really was there, still standing as motionless as a statue, staring at the coffin, the coffin and my grandfather inside it.