“WHAT WERE YOU DOING the whole time?” Adam shouted and revved the engine. The car bumped down the driveway. “I told you we needed to be on our way.”
Evelyn rolled her window down and leaned out to look back. A handkerchief fluttered in her right hand. The Angyals were veiled in a cloud of exhaust—she was wearing her new blouse again, Herr Angyal waved with a tool as if about to get back to some repairs. Pepi was already walking into the house. Adam turned left on Római út.
“What was that about?”
“I had to go one last time, and they both were making sandwiches, one after the other.”
“Who’s going to eat all that? A week’s worth of ’em.”
“There’s also apples and plums, cucumbers, wine, cider, water, and pastries. They even sent your jar of Czech mustard on its way again.”
“Why?”
“All for her lost children, she said, and for little Elfriede. Where is she? In the trunk?”
“The box just fit.”
“Well then, she won’t be in a draft,” Evelyn said. “The cheesecake is still warm. Will we all see each other here again sometime?”
“I’m glad just to be on our way.” He gave the dashboard three raps. “Heinrich, head for home.”
“I still don’t know if that’s a good idea, Adam. You can let me out at the train station. I’ve still got the connections that Katja wrote down.”
“It’s not out of my way.”
“And what if they give you trouble?”
“You think they won’t let me back in? They’ll welcome me with a hand kiss and roses.”
“You can always say someone kidnapped you. I slipped sleeping powder into your tea, and when you woke up you were in the West. Luckily you made your escape, back to the land where workers and peasants have for once and for all put an end to man’s exploitation of man, where—I’m sorry, I’m sorry, that was silly.” She gave Adam’s shoulder a pat. “I just wanted to say that it might be easier if we separate sooner.”
“I told you I’d take you there, and you thought that was a good idea.”
“And what if I have to go?”
“You just went.”
“I just mean, what if I do—or you?”
“The motor can’t be turned off—or only at the top of a hill.”
“Are you going to do it nonstop?”
“It’s an up-and-down route. I can always stop on the hilltops.”
“To be honest, I imagined our good-bye a little different.”
“How? With tears and a long embrace?”
“At least not with you keeping one foot on the accelerator.”
“All you have to do is stay in your seat. All I’m saying is, you can just as easily not get out. We’ll be home tonight. It’s your decision.”
“Don’t start in again. Besides, they’re sure to have sealed your house by now. You won’t even be able to get in.”
“You think I’m going to let that bother me?”
“Nobody’s ever going to bother you from here on.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“Just what I said.”
“Don’t start in with that crap again!”
“Why crap? What’s going to happen once you’re home? You’ll write me love letters, tell me how you love only me, just me alone, and will be true to me and wait for me?”
“Is that so strange?”
“I’ll bet you anything, Adam, that by the day after tomorrow one of your creations will stop by and comfort you. Her and all the rest. They’ll tear each other limb from limb to try and comfort you.”
“You and Michael wouldn’t have been such a bad match. He always knew everything about me too. Could even tell me the future.”
“It’ll be the same as it’s always been.”
“What do you mean, ‘the same’? How can it be the same if you’re gone? Nothing will be like it was.”
“You’ll have the run of the place now. Good-bye boredom. A harem right here on earth, a new one every day.”
“But where are my eunuchs?”
“I’m serious. I’ve asked myself plenty of times why you need me at all. I was just in the way of your paradise. Not that you didn’t like me, and I don’t look all that bad either.”
“But your cooking leaves something to be desired.”
“Yours too. And you’ve had twelve years more than me to learn.”
“Wasn’t it lovely, though?”
“Sometimes yes, sometimes very lovely.”
“Look, there’s the lake.”
“Will you take care of Elfriede?”
“She’s yours.”
“Makes no difference. She’s better off with you. It’ll be nice and quiet for her hibernation. Besides I can’t arrive with a huge box like that.” Evelyn rolled her window up.
“That wouldn’t be such a bad thing right now, a little hibernation,” Adam said.
They took the road in the direction of Keszthely, Zalaegerszeg, Körmend.
“Are you hungry? You didn’t eat anything.” Evelyn reached back for the cheesecake, set it on her lap, unwrapped it, broke off a piece, and stuck it in Adam’s mouth.
Looking for some tissues, Evelyn opened the glove compartment.
“Did she forget this?” Evelyn held up the Rubik’s Cube.
“She gave it to me, said she didn’t need it anymore.”
A new Wartburg passed them with a honk, but neither Adam nor Evelyn waved back.
At the border station near Rábafüzes the Hungarians let them through without stamping anything, the Austrians just waved them on.
“Are you happy?” Evelyn asked as they approached Fürstenfeld near Graz.
“No, why should I be.” After a brief pause he said, “Funny, you can read everything, but it doesn’t feel the same as it does with us. It’s like I’m at a carnival, except the Ferris wheel and shooting galleries are missing.”
“That’s about right. It all looks as if somebody’s added in the color somehow.”
“Potemkin villages.”
“Yes,” Evelyn said, “as if it all weren’t for real.”