Vacation in Naples

I.-6

He might be ready any time now. If the conditions were right, he could start down the road that led to his freedom. He’d gotten out of tougher situations in the past, and he believed in himself. Because he definitely didn’t feel like sitting behind bars for years.

* * *

“For the love of God, can’t you keep still for just a minute?

“No.”

“Is this why you want to see me?”

“No, that’s not the only reason,” sighed Niki.

Of course she couldn’t admit to András that she wanted to see him. She wasn’t even able to acknowledge this fact to herself. The things she’d done to him, even from the Caribbean, hadn’t been fair, especially after all the things András had done for her, from here at home. But even this could not heal the terrible injury András had inflicted on their relationship. Niki trusted him as a detective and as a person, but as a man… she’d hadn’t been able to trust him for a good while now. That’s why she had decided that it was over: they needed to end this. The worst part, of course, was that she’d never found any real proof that András had been unfaithful, or that there was another woman in his life, but Niki chose to believe the anonymous letter and her gut feelings after she’d seen András in the office with that woman. He’d looked at her so tenderly, it was clear. Breaking up felt awful, but lingering on in a relationship constantly beleaguered with suspicion would have been worse… Getting dumped was no better.

“Sure, I’m glad I’m not forced to think up a ruse to get you to see me,” said András.

“What did you have in mind? Holding me at gunpoint?” said Niki with a smile.

“Maybe.”

“Whoa, that’s harsh. I could write an article about the incident.”

“You could, Nikolett Ladányi, but you won’t,” András declared firmly.

Niki was indeed quite surprised at his tone. András was quite self–confident when it came to his work, and at one time had behaved the same with her too. No matter how much she hated this tone, she still found it attractive. A man should be manly.

“Alright. Where do you want to meet? And when? I’d like to visit Roland and promised Fanni I’d come see her too.”

“You can’t bring Fanni.”

“How come?”

“She’s sweet and I like her. But you’d be using her as a shield. So we wouldn’t have to talk about us.”

“Us? Such a thing exists?” she asked softly.

“Without Fanni. Tonight. Dinner…? Shall I pick you up?”

“Oh, pizza? Don’t bother picking me up. I told you I would drop in to see Fanni, for at least a hug. I’ll be coming from their place.”

“Okay. The usual place then. I’ll be there at eight on the corner of the Ring and Hegedűs Street. If you’ll arrive really late, you’d better tell me now so I can wait inside.”

“I won’t be late.”

“I’m glad I can see you soon,” András said, and hung up.

Niki stared at her phone. What a determined guy… she’d become familiar with this quality of his at the beginning of their relationship. But what had happened? She’d rather not think about it.

An eternity later, she finally stepped into the boxy building and pulled down the zipper of her jacket. She felt like her hands and feet had frozen solid by the time she’d walked up from the bus stop to the institution. Next time, she would come on her scooter no matter what. She’d freeze then too, but at least she’d get here faster. The doorman greeted her and a woman in a housedress waved. Lots of people welcomed her when they saw her, emerging from rooms, idling in the corridor.

“Did you bring us any cake, sweetie–pie?”

“It’s been so long since we’ve seen you…”

“Oh, it’s my granddaughter…”

More, similar sentences were spoken, and she smiled. She had not brought any cake. She’d been so distracted, she’d forgotten. And she wasn’t anyone’s granddaughter, at least not anyone’s who lived here. Still, it felt nice to be greeted with kind words that weren’t spoken out of interest. She decided that expecting cake was not in the “out of interest” category. She felt her heart fill with joy. For the first time, it was good to be here. Up till now, she always arrived with a knot in her stomach, with the shadow of the past hanging over her, but now, she didn’t have to force a smile. She promised to bring cake next time, gave a big hello to everyone, kissed the cheeks of the old lady who thought Niki was her granddaughter, and headed up the stairs. She was anticipating the moment when she would tense up. She approached Roland’s room, but still she didn’t feel the onslaught of the usual physical symptoms. Suddenly, she saw the little Caribbean island and the woman, who maybe was Carol Santos, maybe her granddaughter, or perhaps the person in whom she now lived incarnate… She saw the island of bliss before her. Could it be that the visit had truly changed her and altered her memories? Could the “memory healer” really have healed her painful memories? Was it possible? Or was she just calmer than usual? Or…?

Perhaps she had forgiven herself.

She felt relieved as she headed towards the door, though she had always tried to make herself believe that it had been her fault those thugs beat him up so badly. It happened fifteen years ago, and since then, he was nearly a vegetable, spending his days in this home, without feelings or thoughts. He had been attacked because of her. They’d tried to flirt with her, bully her, and Roland had wanted to protect her. Roland, the first, and probably last, love of her life, had only tried to protect her.

Up till now, she had felt responsible, and Roland’s parents, especially his mother, fueled the feeling of guilt in her.

But now she felt nothing. She didn’t feel choked up with tears. She just wanted to see him and give him her gift.

Pressing down on the door handle felt easy. Much easier than ever before.

Roland stared at her. At least they could make eye contact. Niki walked over and hugged him. She felt only warmth, no tension. His gaze remained expressionless while Niki took the model ship and the coloring book that she had brought for him out of her backpack.

Then, she took his hand and pulled him along with her. They’d never gone out together before. When she visited, he was either in his room, in the gym, or being “exercised” in the garden. The orderlies made sure that his physical condition didn’t deteriorate. Roland didn’t mind walking or moving, despite the fact that he was unable to take part in games. But he liked going places, chasing a big stuffed animal, and enjoyed playing around on the horizontal bars, though no emotions were ever visible on his face.

Niki pulled him along. He gripped her hand and went. This was the first time she thought that maybe Roland felt something after all. Perhaps a bit of apprehension due to this new situation? Maybe…

The sound of a piano was heard from the common room on the ground floor. The Pianist – as Niki liked to think of the old man, who was supposedly once a bar pianist – sat in sunglasses behind the upright piano, though shades were completely pointless in the artificial light of the room. He played an old, probably Italian song. He hummed along, slightly out of tune. This was the afternoon show at the rest home. Several people sat at the table: a group was playing cards; an elderly lady leafed through a book; another just stared into space beside a woman who was singing, probably an entirely different tune than what the man was playing. Niki led Roland over to the couch and sat down. Roland just stood there looking lost, still clutching Niki’s hand. She gently pulled him downwards. Finally, he sat.

They sat there for about half an hour, Roland obedient rather than interested. Soon, a group had gathered around Niki, and suddenly she was the center of attention, telling them a story about a cruise ship, about sunsets and islands that her listeners would never see for themselves. One of the ladies kept interrupting with questions, thinking Niki had been on a boat excursion on Lake Balaton, but the others answered for Niki, saying she’d been abroad, not at Balaton. This interlude took place about every two minutes, but Niki didn’t mind.

“And then I arrived to the top of the world,” she said suddenly. “There’s a climbing course on one of the islands strung up above the rainforest. You can make your way along it, gripping the ropes, as if you were walking along a pair of train tracks suspended in the air. We were fastened to the course with ropes so we wouldn’t fall, but we also had railings to hang onto. And when I started off, I felt like I was walking above the world,” explained Niki.

Attentive eyes were fixed on her. Not all of them were filled with the light of comprehension, but most were.

“The leaves were wet,” she continued, “from the humidity, but the sun shone above the clouds and the silence was incredible. The only sound was the birds twittering. And I saw them too… all those colorful birds. I was walking in their world.”

“You were flying, dear,” the elderly lady sitting beside her suddenly said.

Niki had been told, before she’d gone on her trip, that this refined, elegant, petite little lady of no less than eighty years, had a beau. She usually never left her room. Niki was struck by this information. Who could her “beau” be? But now, she was even more surprised to see the little old lady out of her room. She smiled at Niki.

“I came out,” she said, “because someone told me we were having a big day today. A story day,” she explained enthusiastically.

“Yes, I was flying,” answered Niki, and thought she was flying even now. Here are all these people who find pleasure in her presence, in her “story day.” This birdlike old lady had emerged from her room because of her. And Roland was sitting there next to her too, even if he couldn’t understand what was going on.

Carol Santos, you’re a sorceress, she thought, thinking back upon the little island in the Caribbean. You’ve worked wonders, whether you actually exist or not.

“It’s been a while since we’ve seen each other…”

“And even then, only on official business.”

“Yes. I have a private practice now.”

“I know. Here I am.”

“Well, I’m glad to see you. And how may I help you?”

The woman smiled encouragingly. András sat down and felt very stupid. Why did he even come here?

“I… had some problems in my life.”

Silence.

“And I still do. Not many, but some.”

“I see.”

“And… I’m having a hard time deciding what to do.”

“I’m here to listen.”

And he began to talk. Softly, objectively, with the least amount of emotion possible. He tried to summarize what had happened, but had to begin from much further back. Interestingly enough, this was the first time he had summed things up, even for himself. He seemed to have a better overview now, not just of things he talked about, but about how he really felt. It felt good to talk to someone.

“So it’s a question of ethics. You don’t know what decision to make. Did I understand correctly? You’d make a different choice if you listened to your conscience than if you let your emotions guide you?” the woman asked finally.

“That’s pretty much the situation, though not quite. If I listened to my feelings, then I’d listen to my conscience too. Instead, I’d say, I wish I could listen to my heart, because then I’d pull her free of this whole thing. And as for that man… I’d hound him until he made a mistake so big it would be impossible to cover up. But unfortunately, she won’t let me listen to my emotions. She’s loyal to that man and won’t truly let me into her life. I think that no matter what secret I know, she would want me to keep it to myself, to not burden her with it, and not report it either. She’s probably hoping for a miracle.

“What would you like me to tell you? You realize that this is not a part of my task. A psychologist cannot tell their, er… patient, what to do, even in such emotional situations. I can only give you my personal opinion, but I’d rather not. Instead, I’d be interested in hearing what you’d like me to tell you. What would make you happy? Which answer would bring you liberation and relief? What if I told you to let everything run its own course? Or if I suggested that you report this to your superiors and stay away?”