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Agnes îl abordă pe pictor, dar acesta o respinse ursuz. N-am timp! Agnes mai avea la dispoziție o altă pistă. Zsuzsi, cântăreața, insistase să-i dea ceva de la mama ei. Un cantec scris de Flora pe o carte poștală. Zsuzsi îi spuse că jos, în camera cu biliard, o găsea pe Viki, prietena cea mai bună din liceu a mamei ei, care i-ar fi putut spune mai multe. Pe drumul înspre subsol, Agnes examină cartea poștală. Nu poți ține-nchisă în suspine melodia. Ura și iubirea se confundă toată ziua. N-o să stăvilești niciodată fuga mea. Liniile vieții doar așa se vor afla. În libertate.
Agnes întrerupse jocul de biliard pe care Viki îl juca cu un bărbat necunoscut. Vicki și Marin se certau într-un joc ciudat și intens, dar în scurt timp ajunseră să vorbească despre Flora. Martin câștigase la poker cu Zoli un tablou cu ea, si un dvd, aflat pe undeva la subsol. Agnes iși nota febril informația.
Martin zicea că Flóra îl distrusese pe Zoli. Viki se enervă. Cum să-l distrugă Flóra? Dimpotrivă, Zoli era exemplul perfect al unuia care s-a distrus singur, cu obsesia lui pentru o femeie frumoasă. Janos, portarul, se băgă și el în vorbă. Tanti Flóra nu era ușă de biserică. El a tot cules-o de prin baruri, unde îl trimitea tanti Iren s-o caute. Janos nu credea nici măcar că Flóra ar fi plecat în Germania. Înotase în catacombe prin tunelul de aici din biserică. Martin il expedie sec pe portar si se intoarse la Viki. Flora fusese mereu un pic sadică. El auzise că incendiul de la fabrica de becuri fusese provocat tot de ea. Zoli fusese iubitul lui Iren de fapt, iar Flora îl furase.
Și chiar și așa Iren s-a sacrificat. I-a găsit de lucru tot timpul, a ajutat-o. Nu ea a trimis-o și-n Germania c-o slujbă foarte bună? Plus ca nimeni nu o văzuse pe Flóra însărcinată. Surorile se întorseseră de la Cluj cu bebelușul. Iar apoi Flora abandonase tot și fugise, exact ca Viki acum un an. Nu, zise Viki, Zoli încercase să o controleze pe Flora, iar ea se eliberase. Martin sări cu o întrebare: adică exact cum Viki încerca să îl controleze acum pe Martin?
Agnes auzise destule. Se strecură afară din cameră, orbecăind prin subsol. Mătușa ei fusese cu Zoli? Și el o lăsase pentru Flóra? De ce nu-i spusese niciodată nimic? Fata găsi locul despre care vorbea Martin. DVD-ul era deja în aparat și fata îi dădu play. O tânără cânta un cântec de leagăn unui bebeluș. Dar femeia nu era Flora, ci Iren. Pe neașteptate, în cameră intră Flora abulică și dezorientată. Flóra, Mai aveai puțin și nici nu ajungeai la botez! Iren o întrebă dacă măcar băutura pentru botez o cumpărase. Pe Flora parea sa o doara in cot de botez sau de bebelus. Ii ceru indiferența lui Iren niște bani și dadu sa plece. O enerva camera care o filma, din ce în ce mai aproape. Zoli, pleacă de-aici, te rog. Zoli se rugă de ea să-l lasă s-o vadă. Vrei s-ajung să mă sinucid? Pot să-mi tai venele chiar aici, înainte de botezul fetiței, se răsti dramatic pictorul. Zoli, pe bune. E veche placa asta, spuse Flora sec punându-i în mână un cuțit. Apoi ieși fără nici un cuvânt. O femeie… pierdută.
Agnes închise videoul, speriată de ce tocmai descoperise. După cum arătau lucrurile, Tuși nu era Tuși. Tuși era mami. Agnes se grăbi să ajungă înapoi în curte.
Beata war extrem wütend, weil Tante Iren automatische Türen einbauen und ihren Janos in die Elisabethstadt schicken wollte. Agnes fragte über den Brand – Ich habe gehört, dass Mama ihn verursacht haben soll. Und ich wollte herausfinden, warum? Aber Beata sagte ihr, dass der Brand eigentlich von ihrer Zigarette entfacht wurde, der von Beata. Flóra hatte sie gerettet, aber sie wusste nicht wieso, Iren hatte immer das Gegenteil behauptet. Und Flóras Sachen waren alle in diesen Kisten im Keller.
Während sie sprach, entdeckte Beata, dass ein Brief im Gemälde versteckt war. Agnes holte ihn. Das ist ihre Handschrift…Iren, hol mich hier weg… Agnes schaute auf den Briefumschlag. Das Datum war 12.04.2003. Ein Jahr nach Flóras Verschwinden? Wo meintest du sind diese Kisten?, fragte Agnes in einem Hauch. Beata erklärte ihr den Weg. Magst du das Gemälde nicht auch hintragen? Ach, und kannst du auch diese Monografie vom Herrn Toth im Archiv hinterlegen?
Agnes nahm das Gemälde und das Buch. Als sie die Treppe hinunterging, las sie den chaotischen und beschwingten Brief, in dem Flóra Iren bat, sie nach Hause zu bringen, damit sie ihr kleines Mädchen sehen könne. Agnes öffnete das Buch von Herrn Toth und bemerkte, dass es tatsächlich voller Aufschriften ihrer Mutter war. Auf bestimmten Seiten waren die Eingänge zu verschiedenen Tunneln im Stadtviertel vermerkt. Gegen Ende hatte Flóra einen Plan gezeichnet, der von einem Gefängnis zu sein schien. Mit Betten, Speisesaal, Begegnungsraum. Pfeile eingezeichnet durch mögliche Zugänge. Gitter!
Agnes bewegte sich wie im Traum. Ihre Mutter zeigte ihr den Weg. Sie trug sie mit sich. Agnes kam es so vor, als ob sie jemanden sehen würde. Die Silhouette einer Frau die durch die Dunkelheit wandert. Agnes! Ich bin hier! Agi! Mein Schatz… hörte sie noch einmal. Lass mich nicht hier! Agnes machte sich Mut und betrat den Raum, in dem die Silhouette verschwunden war. In der Dunkelheit entdeckte Agnes ein Höhlenbecken. Sie berührte die Oberfläche des Wassers und war sich sicher, dass sie jeden Moment eine Hand hineinziehen würde. Komm zu mir! Ich bin hier! Nimm mich mit nach Hause! Schwimm, Agnes! Schwimm!
He, wer ist denn da, hä? hallte eine Stimme hinter ihr. Es war Janos, der spannenlange Pförtner, mit einer Schachtel unter dem Arm. Agnes! Ich bin Agnes! Iréns Nichte. Ich schreibe einen Artikel über meine Mutter, Flóra.
Ich glaube, sie ist in diese Richtung weggeschwommen, zeigte Janosch ihr die Tiefen des Beckens. Glaubst du, sie ist hier ertrunken?, fragte Agnes besorgt. Ertrinken? Tante Flóra war ´ne riesige Meisterschwimmerin. Nein. Sie sparte für eine Tauchausrüstung, damals, bevor sie fortging. Sie nahm auch von mir 300 Dollar. Das Geld hat sie mir nie zurückgegeben. Sie hat gepumpt, ist abgehauen, aber zurückkehren, nix. Agnes bat um Erlaubnis, in die Schachtel zu schauen, die der spannenlange Mann mit sich trug. Das ist nur die Erste… Der Rest ist im Archiv, bei den Büchern. Habe ich geöffnet.
Agnes bekam ein schreckliches Gefühl. In der Schachtel waren noch viel mehr Briefe. 2003, 2004, 2005, 2006, 2007, 2008. Jahr für Jahr hatte ihre Mutter an Iren geschrieben. Agnes überflog sie schnell. Einige davon waren Bittbriefe. Andere waren optimistisch. Andere einfach nur verzweifelt. Und einer von ihnen zerriss ihr das Herz, denn er hatte nur einen Satz. Ich kann ohne meine Tochter nicht leben. Ganz am Boden der Schachtel fand sie Flóras Einweisungsschreiben in die Psychiatrische Klinik in der Josefstadt, in der Văcărescu-Straße. Die Unterschrift des gesetzlichen Vormunds: Farago Iren. Ihre Tante hatte die Mutter eingewiesen. Es war kein Gefängnis, es war eine Nervenanstalt.
Während sie durch die Papiere ging, stieß Agnes auf ein Dokument. Todesbescheinigung. Farago Flóra. 13. August 2008.
Agnes brach in Tränen aus. Sie setzte sich hin und drückte alle Papiere an ihre Brust.
Agnes unterbrach Vikis Billiard-Spiel mit einem unbekannten Mann. Viki und Martin stritten sich in einem merkwürdigen und gespannten Spiel, aber in kurzer Zeit redeten sie schon über Flóra. Martin hatte Zoli beim Pokern geschlagen und ein Bild von ihr ergattert, und eine DVD, die irgendwo im Keller war. Agnes schrieb alles fiebernd auf.
Martin meinte, dass Flóra Zoli zerstört hätte. Viki regte sich auf. Flóra ihn zerstören? Ganz im Gegenteil, Zoli war das perfekte Beispiel für einen Selbstzerstörer, mit seiner Besessenheit für eine schöne Frau. Janos, der Pförtner, mischte sich auch ein. Tante Flóra war auch keine Heilige. Er hat sie immer wieder aus irgendwelchen Kneipen gefischt, wo Tante Iren ihn schickte, um sie zu suchen. Janos glaubte nicht einmal, dass Flóra nach Deutschland fortgegangen wäre. Durch diesen Tunnel, hier in der Kirche, war sie durch die Katakomben geschwommen. Martin schickte den Pförtner einfach weg und wandte sich wieder Viki zu. Flóra war immer schon ein wenig sadistisch gewesen. Er hatte gehört, dass der Brand in der Glühbirnenfabrik auch von ihr verursacht gewesen wäre. Zoli war eigentlich der Freund Iren gewesen, aber Flóra hatte ihn gestohlen.
Und sei es so, Iren hat sich aufgeopfert. Sie hat ihr immer einen Arbeitsplatz gefunden, hat ihr geholfen. War´s nicht sie, die sie nach Deutschland geschickt hat mit ´nem sehr gut´n Job? Und außerdem hatte niemand Flóra schwanger gesehen. Die Schwestern waren mit dem Baby aus Klausenburg zurückgegehrt. Dann hat Flóra alles liegen lassen und ist abgehauen, genau wie Viki vor einem Jahr. Nein, sagte Viki, Zoli hatte versucht Flóra zu kontrollieren, und sie hatte sich befreit. Martin sprang mit einer Frage ein: Also genau wie Viki jetzt versuchte Martin zu kontrollieren?
Agnes hatte genug gehört. Sie schlich sich raus aus dem Zimmer, und tappte im dunklen Keller. Ihre Tante war mit Zoli zusammen gewesen? Und er hatte sie für Flóra verlassen? Wieso hatte sie ihr nie davon erzählt? Das Mädchen hatte den Platz gefunden, von dem Martin gesprochen hatte. Die DVD war schon im Gerät und das Mädchen drückte die Play-Taste. Eine junge Frau sang einem Baby ein Wiegenlied. Aber die Frau war nicht Flóra sondern Iren. Unerwartet trat Flóra herein, abwesend und verwirrt. Flóra, noch später und du hättest die Taufe verpasst! Iren fragte sie, ob sie wenigstens die Getränke für die Taufe gekauft hatte. Flóra schien die Taufe oder das Baby Latte zu sein. Gleichgültig verlangte sie Iren ein wenig Geld und wandte sich, um zu gehen. Das ärgerte sie, die Kamera, die sie filmte, näher und näher. Zoli, geh hier bitte weg. Zoli wollte sie sehen, er flehte sie an. Willst du, dass ich mich umbringe? Ich kann meine Venen aufschneiden, hier und jetzt, vor der Taufe des Mädchens, schnauzte der Maler dramatisch. Zoli, echt jetzt. Das wird langsam alt, sagte Flóra trocken, während sie ihm ein Messer in die Hand drückte. Dann ging sie raus, ohne ein Wort zu sagen. Eine Frau… verloren.
Agnes schaltete das Video ab, erschrocken von dem, was sie gerade erfahren hatte. So wie die Dinge standen, war Tantchen nicht Tantchen. Tantchen war Mami. Agnes eilte wieder in den Hof.
A Memory from Mom
Agnes
approached the painter. I have no time! He disappeared into the building
before the girl had time to react. It’s OK, Agnes told herself. She
still had one more lead. Zsuzsi, the singer Auntie despised, had insisted on
giving her something from her mother. Auntie had been visibly bothered by this
detail, which meant she was following the right lead.
Agnes knocked on the
concert hall door. Agnes, dear, I found Miss Flóra’s song, the singer
told her with a smile, handing her a postcard with a few lines and a notebook
with handwritten notes. Her writing, Agnes rejoiced. She asked Zsuzsi if
they could talk a little about Flora and her “strange” disappearance.
I was in Târgu Mureș at the time.
Zsuzsi
told her that downstairs, in the room with the pool table, she would find Viki,
her mother’s best friend from high school. Viki might tell her a lot.
Agnes examined the
postcard. You can’t hold the song locked in your sobs. Hate and love have
always been mixed up. You can’t prevent my escape. It’s the only way to find
the lines of life. In freedom.
Was it dedicated to
Zoli, the painter? And when did her mother start thinking about running
away?
Since
the dreams of her mother reappeared, this is all she’d been thinking of. Often,
she couldn’t sleep. Her gaze was drawn to the bars facing the street. A strong
sense of deja vu hit Agnes. Had she seen them before? Yes. In her dream.
Her mother was speaking to her from behind bars. Maybe it was because of her insomnia.
Should have she told Viki she was Flora’s daughter? Or better stay
undercover?
Agnes interrupted the
game Viki was playing with an unknown man. A pool table, with only a few balls.
Mrs. Farago told me I can look around, she said. I’m from the
University of Journalism in Budapest. Sure, I saw you outside. It’s all
right…, Viki answered. You won’t even notice I’m here, Agnes said.
She stared for a few moments at the painting depicting her mother. Then she sat
down at a table, took out a notebook, and began to write.
Viki continued the
game. She had found a job for Martin at the foundation. The pay was good and he
could’ve taught geometry and physics to kids who needed education. Point for
Viki. Problem solved. If only Martin wanted. It’s not like Martin didn’t want
it. But for now, it was impossible for him to work. Playing was part of
him. He had to embrace it, not reject it. And that was what he had been doing
every single day. Working to find the best method.
Viki perfectly
understood him. She had already set up a first therapy session for her husband,
the following Thursday. Point for Viki. Martin only has to want it, she
triumphantly hit yet another ball.
Martin rearranged the
balls on the table. Problem number 2. The brutal interferences of Viki into
Martin’s life. When he should’ve been consulted, he wasn’t. Martin isn’t
being consulted because, usually, Martin isn’t, Viki said
while a painting of Flora distracted her attention from the game. What’s
with this painting here?
Martin had won the
painting by playing poker with Zoli, the painter. Martin said that it was Zoli
who begged him to play. They’re kicking him out on Monday, poor guy. He’s
desperate for cash. Zoli then wanted to play double or nothing. He also
lost some DVDs with his home videos. It was just a video of Flóra, Iren, and a
baby. Not a great video. They were just fighting.
Give the poor man his
stuff back, Viki said. Don’t you see he has a
problem? Just like you do with gambling. He must be helped. Maybe even
institutionalized. Maybe you also want to institutionalize me, came
Martin’s acid remark. All I want is to help you, Martin.
When Viki’s brother
had tried to get her committed to a mental institution, Martin had completely
opposed it. Even more, he played poker and raised money for her treatment. And
their wedding. That could be called help. Point for Martin.
The fact that I left
with Ahmad, Rafick și Caram in Germany
was the thing that worked. Not the treatment. That’s
how I could find myself, Viki strongly hit a ball. Point for
Viki.
You could find
yourself because I set you free, so you can find yourself. Why wouldn’t you do
that with me now? the man raised another issue. ‘Cause
I don’t want you to find yourself in 20-30 years, Viki said.
Martin only meant to
say that Zoli’s life had been ruined by Flóra. Viki got angry. It wasn’t Flora
the one to ruin Zoli’s life. He was the luckiest man in the world to meet her.
He owed her his entire career. Quite the opposite, Zoli was the perfect example
of a man who had ruined himself, with his obsession with a beautiful woman.
Exactly like Martin was ruining his life by gambling. Except that in
Martin’s case there was a Viki to help him stop in time. Point for Viki.
Janos, the doorman,
cut in the conversation. Miss Flóra was no saint. She, in fact, didn’t go to
Church, unless he picked her up from the many dive bars, she was hanging in.
Iren would send Janos to look for her sister. But Janos didn’t believe Miss
Flóra left for Germany. He believed she swam to the catacombs, using the tunnel
here beneath the Church. The tunnels in the Fabric neighborhood are only 28%
likely to lead anywhere, Martin explained. I’ve discussed this with
several historians. Zero chances, Janos. I’m sorry. Oh, I forgot to tell you.
Iren is changing the doors. She’s installing a digital system. Just as I bet
you, she would. Janos asked what he was going to do. Requalify,
with a 90.2% probability. Or unemployment.
The doorman left, in
shock.
Martin went back to
the discussion about Flora and Zoli. Flora had always been a little sadistic.
He had heard rumors that she even started the fire at the battery factory. And
she was playing all the guys in high school. After they did what she wanted,
she’d just leave them hanging. Martin himself had done all her physics homework
for one year straight just so he could go out with her to the movies. And she
hadn’t even shown up.
How could she have
taken you guys seriously when you only thought about banging her? Viki
scoffed. Flora had better things to do back then. Yeah, she’d leave
town for months, with her many lovers. She did the same with Zoli! Martin
said. Flora didn’t have any problem seducing her sister’s boyfriend. And
even so, Iren had sacrificed for her. She found her jobs, all the time. She
even found that great job for her in Germany. She went to live with Flora and
Zoli in Cluj, when Flora was pregnant! And she paid for it all. Viki
accepted the point Martin was making. She never saw Flora pregnant. The two
sisters came back from Cluj with the baby. Yeah. And she also stole Zoli’s
money before leaving him, Martin poured gasoline over a fire. No,
Martin! Zoli was super jealous and aggressive when he got drunk. With his weird
ideas for them to paint their portraits with each other’s blood. At one point
it was just too much. Even for her.
Martin tried to
calculate. Zoli just wanted to control Flora. And she set herself free from
him, Viki said. And setting yourself free means to just fuck off to
Germany and never give a sign of life to your child and sister for twenty
years? This is what someone who’s right in the head does? Martin erupted.
I also left for Germany. And everybody said I wasn’t right in the head. And
see? I’m back, Viki replied. You left without thinking of the ones you
were leaving behind, Martin reproached her. Does it seem to you I
didn’t? And I’m sure Flora did too. Something happened there, in Germany. She
wasn’t the type to just quit. Martin lost his temper. Of course, she was.
Flora quit everything. Swimming. The jobs. Zoli. Her own child!
Viki
knew for a fact Flora would have never abandoned her daughter. She had lost two
pregnancies during high school. After she quit swimming, she tried to get
pregnant many times. She enormously wanted the child. No one could know what
happened to Flora. Yes, one could know, Martin said. 50 % probability
she died. 50 % she lives. In case she’s dead, 25% chance she got killed. 25%
she committed suicide. 50% accidental death, health problem or external unknown
reasons. In case she lives, 25 % chance she had a major mental breakdown. 25%
amnesia. 25% a possible decision, with an unknown motivation, to start her life
from scratch and never look back.
Agnes had heard
enough. Shaken up by what she had found, she slipped out of the room and was
now trying to find the place where Martin had seen the footage of her mother,
wandering around the basement. Her mother’s story seemed like a dark basement.
Glimmers of light, were sparkling now stronger than ever. Had her aunt been
with Zoli? And had he left her for Flóra? Had Auntie found work for Flora in
Germany? Why had she never told her anything? Wasn’t that fight in the song a
fight between the two sisters? Yes, Auntie would have had enough reasons not to
talk about her sister, who had started a fire and had multiple affairs. The
sister who embarrassed her in the eyes of the world. But the painter killing
Flora out of jealousy was just as justified. The memories were taking a little
more shape. Her feeling of deja vu had returned. Agnes! I’m here! I’m
here, Agnes! Her mother’s voice from her dreams, from behind bars. Which
suddenly started to turn into a whispered song. Agi, Agi, my treasure. Agi,
Agi, my wonder. The lullaby Agnes used to fall asleep to, night after
night when she was a baby.
The
girl found the place Martin was talking about. The DVD was already loaded.
In the video, a young
woman was singing a lullaby to a baby. But the woman was not Flora, she was
Iren, angry that Zoli kept filming her. Unexpectedly, a young Flora entered the
room, a little disoriented. Flóra, is this the time to come home? You’re
late for the Christening, young Iren said. Flora had a hangover. Young Iren
asked her if she bought the drinks for the ceremony. Flora absently shrugged. Did
you drink it?, Iren got angry. I can’t remember… I think I bought it
last night, but then I had a beer with a friend, Flora said.
What
friend?, Zoli asked, from behind the camera. Never
mind, I’m here now, Flora said. I’m going to buy cigarettes. Then I’ll
get dressed and we’ll go. Iren asked her to buy the drinks for the guests
and not to drink this time. Can you give me some money? I don’t remember
what I did with my wallet, Flora said. On the table, Iren showed
her, holding Agnes, the baby, to her chest. Flora hadn’t even looked at her daughter
until now. The camera got closer and closer. Zoli, get out of here, please.
I told you I’m not in the mood for you this week. Zoli begged her to let
him see her. Do you want me to end up killing myself? Is that what you want?
I can cut my veins right here, the painter dramatically stated. Really,
Zoli?, Flora said, putting a knife in his hand. Then she walked out
without a word.
Agnes turned off the
video, frightened by what she had just discovered. From the looks of things,
her mother seemed to be someone other than Flóra. Her memories were, indeed,
with her mother. Only that Auntie was not Auntie. Auntie was Mommy. Agnes
hurried back to the yard. She had a lot to talk about with her aunt.
She saw Iren up on
the first floor. Auntie, can you come down a bit?