Chapter 44 Chapter Forty-Three

The morning of the second day was more beautiful and beautiful than the first. "Good morning," Helen said kindly to me, "are you ready to meet my mother?" "I haven't thought about anything else since we got to Budapest," I admitted. "How do we get there?" The village where she lives is in the north of the city, and there are buses. "Helen, are you sure you'd like me to go with you? You could go and talk to her yourself, and maybe it would be less embarrassing than showing up with a stranger - and an American at that." "It is because of you that it is easier for her to speak," Helen said firmly. "She is very reserved with me, and you will charm her."

"Well, I've never been sued for being attractive before." I got myself three slices of bread and a plate of butter. "Don't worry - you won't." Helen gave me one of her most ironic smiles, "It's just that my mother is easily charmed." She didn't add that Rosie had charmed her , why can't you? "I want you to let her know we're going to see her." I looked across the table at her, wondering if she'd tell her mother that the librarian attacked her.The little scarf has been around her neck, I try not to look at that place.

"Aunt Eva sent her a message last night," said Helen calmly, handing me the jam. "We caught the bus north of the city, leaving the suburbs behind. "Where does your mother work?" I looked out the window at the village station and there was just an old woman standing there.She was all in black, with a square turban on her head, and in one hand she held a bouquet of flowers, some red and some pink.The car stopped, she didn't get in the car, and she didn't say hello to anyone who got out of the car.As the car drove away, I saw her holding up flowers in the back and staring at us.

"She worked at the cultural center in the village, sorting out papers, typing, and making coffee for the mayors of the city when they passed by. I told her that, in her head, it was disgraceful to do such a thing, but she Shrugged and continued with her. My mother lived a simple life all her life." Helen said with a hint of bitterness. A sign on the outskirts marked the village where Helen's mother lived.Within a few minutes, our car was parked in a square surrounded by sycamore logs and a boarded-up church on one side.An old woman was waiting alone under the carport, exactly like the old lady in black I saw in the last village.

I looked at Helen inquiringly, but she shook her head.The old man hugged a soldier who got off the bus in front of us. No one came to pick us up, but Helen didn't seem to care. She led me briskly down a side street, which stopped before a field overgrown with weeds. Helen knocked on the door of the last room, but I couldn't see the face of the woman who came to open the door.Then I saw that she quickly embraced Helen, kissed her on the cheek, calmly, almost politely, and then turned to shake my hand.She smiled at me, still a little shy.She glanced up at me and said something in Hungarian to Helen.

"She asked me to bring you the coffee." I thank her politely.She looked at me, then at Helen, and said something to her, which I didn't understand.Helen blushed and continued to make her coffee. "What's up?" "It's nothing, just my mom's redneck idea, that's all." When they spoke, Helen's voice was high-pitched, and her mother's voice was low.I glanced back at her and saw that she was still young, and there was something very healthy about her. "My mother wanted to know everything about you," Helen told me. With her help, I tried to answer every question as completely as possible.She asked each question in gentle Hungarian, and at the same time gave me a questioning look, as if I could understand her words just by the strength of her eyes.

Finally, Helen became restless, and I could see from the way she cleared her throat that she intended to enter the subject of the interview.Her mother watched her quietly, her expression unchanged, until Helen motioned for me to say the name Rosie. Sitting at a table in the country, far away from everything I was familiar with, I had to muster up all my courage to stare at that peaceful face. Helen's mother blinked, as if someone was about to hit her, she looked at me quickly, nodded thoughtfully, and asked Helen a few questions, "How long have you known Professor Rossi?" She asked. Three years. "I say.

"Now," said Helen, "I will tell her about his disappearance." Helen started talking to her mother, and finally, I heard the name Dracula. At this moment, I saw Helen's mother pale and grab the edge of the table. Helen and I jumped up at the same time, and Helen quickly poured a glass of water from the jug on the stove.Her mother was talking hurriedly, her voice hoarse. Helen turned around. "She said she knew it was going to happen." I stood there helpless.Helen's mother took a few sips of water, and to my surprise, she grabbed my hand as I'd tried to grab hers earlier, and pulled me back into my chair.She took my hand lovingly and just stroked it lightly, as if comforting a child.

"My mother wants to know if you really believe that Professor Rossi was taken by Dracula." "I took a deep breath, "Yes. " "She wants to know if you love Professor Rossi." There was a hint of contempt in Helen's tone, but her expression was serious. "I would die for him," I said. Helen's mother walked to the cabinet at the end of the bed, opened it slowly, and took out a bunch of letters. The letters were all in envelopes, unstamped, yellow with age, tied with a frayed red string.She handed me the letter, pressing my fingers on the string with both hands, as if asking me to cherish them.

I only glanced at the handwriting on the first letter and recognized it was from Rosie and knew the name of the recipient.In the back of my memory I already knew who this man was, and his address was Trinity College, Oxford, England.