Tranquility Read Online Free PDF Page B

managed to get the fire going, and the priest brought me a red sweater from one of the Dutch relief packages, so I couldhang up my jacket to dry. We went back into the kitchen, which, judging by its stuccowork, may have been designed to be a living room rather than a kitchen or a gym. While he poured the Maggi soup powder into the boiling water, I took the plates out of the credenza.
    â€œI must admit, I thought you’d be more enthusiastic,” he said.
    â€œBecause of that coat of arms?” I asked.
    â€œMore because of the spirit of the place.”
    â€œI wouldn’t say it leaves me cold completely, but I find nothing to be enthusiastic about. We are probably the farthest out of all collateral branches of our family.”
    â€œYou’re sure you don’t want an omelet? I’ve got onions and bacon too.”
    â€œI’m sure, thanks,” I said.
    â€œFor some reason, I thought you’d be more interested in your roots.”
    â€œMy roots are under a stage,” I said.
    â€œA family of artists, in other words.”
    â€œSomething like that.”
    â€œIf it bothers you so much, I won’t pry.”
    â€œGood idea,” I said, and that froze the air around us a little, though all I wanted was not to let the conversation turn into an inquiry about the retired Miss Weér’s wellbeing. We finished our soup in silence, and then he strolled over to the other end of the kitchen for the wine. He poured, we drank, he poured again, but we were still silent, and although I don’t like to talk about the Almighty any more than I do about my mother, I said to him to go ahead, make your opening skirmish, after all it was part of his professional calling. To which he replied that if he could help it, he too would like to avoid fiascoes.
    â€œGiving up without even trying?” I asked.
    â€œHaving listened to your horror story about Albert Mohos, I don’t think even a divine experience could help you now. If I could squeeze water out of this cutting board, you’d probably say, very nice, too bad I’m not thirsty. But you will get thirsty, eventually. And I’ll just wait,” he said, and then took off his cassock, hung it on the hook screwed into the side of the credenza, and that’s when I noticed that both his arms were full of scars and traces of stitches.
    â€œI wanted to beat up the gym instructor,” he said and put on a sweater.
    â€œAnd you don’t anymore?” I asked.
    â€œYes, I do. But for something else,” he said. “And he’s pretty strong, too. I spent a month and a half in the hospital back then. So now I’d rather just pray for him.”
    â€œYou mean, you’ll just bide your time,” I said, because for some reason I felt that if I’m not talking about my mother, then it’s better that he doesn’t talk about the gym teacher either. “As a matter of fact, you are the first priest who doesn’t rush to help me.”
    â€œDon’t tell me that surprises you. You knew that already in the library, otherwise you wouldn’t have let me drag you over here. You would have chatted very nicely with the school principal about the difficulties in education and in publishing.”
    â€œYou are probably right,” I said.
    â€œBy the way, it’s the nonbelievers one can try to win over, not those who hate God,” he said, and for a second I felt somebody had spat in my face. I’ve got to get out of here, I thought. Take the first train back to Budapest, I thought. Or go over to the principal’s house, this minute, and with fork and knife eat some chicken, I thought. Then get stinking drunk and molest the principal’s sixteen-year-old daughter, I thought. And tomorrow I shouldgo see Eszter and tell her I can’t stand this anymore, I thought. That we either try to live like human beings, or she’d better get the hell out of my life. That she should