1.
I left, just so that I didn’t have to set eyes on him. I could have left without saying a word, but I did tell him that I was about to leave. Only to go to the shops, mind you. He asked me what I wanted to buy, and I snapped that it was bread.
Actually, we still had some bread in the house.
Sure, off you go, wherever you want, for all I care.
I made a run for it, going round in circles. All the way to Rétfalva, through Kúronék, and back via Papszoros. I can’t remember how many times I went round.
When I got back home, I found everything quiet, dead quiet. I went into the living room and there he was, standing by the sofa, leaning over the table and supporting himself with both hands. Oh! This is all he had to say. He then pulled the knife out of the leg of his boot and stirred into action.
I didn’t even try to scamper off. I sensed what was best to do, I made it across to the other side of the table, so we ended up running around in circles, many-many times.
The thing is, he’s asthmatic. This only came to my mind when he started to slow down, after two or three rounds, not straightaway. At the beginning, I was basically whizzing around, but soon worked out that I was getting stuck behind him.
Then I figured that I should slow down, like so.
He collapsed, and the knife fell out of his hand. I slipped out of the room, and just kept going, until I got to the street. All I can recall is that people were shaking me, there were a great many people gathered together.
The reason why I write is that I’ve been unable to speak since then. I have tried though, three times. Only screams and shouts have come out of my mouth. So never again.
2.
I left, just so that I didn’t have to set eyes on him. I could have left without saying a word, but I did tell him that I was about to leave. Only to go to the shops, mind you. He asked me what I wanted to buy, and I snapped that it was bread.
Actually, we still had some bread in the house.
Sure, off you go, wherever you want, for all I care.
I made a run for it, going round in circles. All the way to Rétfalva, through Kúronék, and back via Papszoros. I can’t remember how many times I went round.
When I got back home, I found everything quiet, dead quiet. I went into the living room and there he was, standing by the sofa, leaning over the table and supporting himself with both hands. Oh! This is all he had to say. He then pulled the knife out of the leg of his boot and stirred into action.
I didn’t even try to scamper off. I sensed what was best to do, I scurried across to the other side of the table, so we ended up running around in circles.
The thing is, he’s asthmatic. I noticed that he was slowing down.
After two or three rounds. At the beginning, I was whizzing around like some lunatic. But then I worked out that I was about to get stuck behind him.
I should slow down.
Like so. I ran into the street and shouted at the top of my lungs. Help!
But nobody came out. Because they were used to such scenes.
Help, my husband’s dying.
Shortly after this, three old women came running, one in her nightie.
I couldn’t stop myself from thinking how great it was that such people were coming to our assistance.
They’ll talk a lot though, all sorts of rubbish.
My husband died, not straightaway, but by the time the doctor arrived, he had already given up the ghost.
The old woman in the nightie kept shouting and screaming, rubbing her fingers into everything she could lay hands on, including her nightie, the tablecloth, myself.
I’m not going to mention her name, nobody knows her anyway.
I have no idea where all this blood could have come from.
Seeing that the doctor said my husband had died of heart attack.
I went outside and threw up, a lot.
An awful lot, directly on the violets.
Now I’m feeling much better.
Mátyus Melinda
kettő
1.
Elmentem, de csak azért, hogy ne lássam. Elmehettem volna anélkül, hogy szóljak, de én megmondtam, hogy elmegyek. Csak a boltba. Megkérdezte, hogy mit akarok venni, rávágtam, hogy kenyeret.
Volt otthon kenyér.
Menjél, ahová akarsz. Felőlem.
Körbefutottam, körbe-körbe. Rétfalván ki, Kúronékon át, a Papszorosán vissza. Nem tudom, hányszor.
Hazaértem és csend volt, csend. Bementem a szobába. A kanapénál állt, két kezével az asztalra támaszkodott. Ó! Ennyit mondott. Kihúzta a kését a csizmájából, és meglódult.
Nem kifelé futottam. Megéreztem, hogy mit kell, az asztal másik oldalához kell, kerültük az asztalt, elég sokszor.
Asztmás. Ez akkor jutott eszembe, amikor lassulni kezdett, az elején nem, úgy két-három kör után. Az elején repültem, aztán észrevettem, hogy a háta mögé kerülök.
Lassítsak, így.
Lezuhant, a kés kiesett a kezéből. Kifordultam a szobából, és tovább, ki, az utcára. Arra emlékszem, hogy ráznak, sokan voltak ott.
Azért írok, mert azóta nem tudok beszélni. Próbáltam, háromszor. A számon ordítás jött ki. Többet soha.
2.
Elmentem, de csak azért, hogy ne lássam. Elmehettem volna anélkül, hogy szóljak, de én megmondtam, hogy elmegyek. Csak a boltba. Megkérdezte, hogy mit akarok venni, én rávágtam, hogy kenyeret.
Volt otthon kenyér.
Menjél, ahová akarsz. Felőlem.
Körbefutottam, körbe-körbe. Rétfalván ki, Kúronékon át, a Papszorosán vissza. Nem tudom, hányszor.
Hazaértem és csend volt. Bementem a szobába. A kanapénál állt, két kezével az asztalra támaszkodott. Ó! Ennyit mondott. Kihúzta a kését a csizmájából, és meglódult.
Nem kifelé futottam. Megéreztem, hogy mit kell, az asztal másik oldalához rohantam, kerültük az asztalt.
Asztmás. Észrevettem, hogy lassul.
Két-három kör után. Az elején úgy repültem, mint az őrült. Aztán észrevettem, hogy mindjárt a háta mögé kerülök.
Lassítsak.
Így.
Kifutottam az utcára, és ordítottam, ahogy a számon kifért. Segítség!
Segítség!
De senki nem jött ki. Mert megszokták.
Segítség, az uram meghal.
Erre három vénasszony futott, az egyik ingben.
Én arra gondoltam, hogy jó, ha ilyenek jönnek, segíteni.
Sokat fognak beszélni, összevissza.
Az uram meghalt, nem rögtön, de mire kijött az orvos, vége volt. Az inges vénasszony visítozott, törölgette az ujjait, mindenbe, az ingbe, az abroszba, belém.
A nevét nem írom le, úgysem ismeri senki.
Nem tudom, honnan jött az a sok vér. Mert az orvos azt mondta, hogy a szíve vitte el.
Kimentem az udvarra, és hánytam, sokat.
Nagyon sokat, az ibolyabokorra.
Már jól vagyok.
First published in Hungarian in Látó, June 2020.
JOZEFINA KOMPORALY is a London-based academic and translator from Hungarian and Romanian. She is editor and co-translator of the collections How to Explain the History of Communism to Mental Patients and Other Plays (Seagull, 2015), András Visky’s Barrack Dramaturgy (Intellect, 2017) and Plays from Romania: Dramaturgies of Subversion (Bloomsbury, 2021), and author of numerous publications on translation, adaptation, and theatre. Her translations appeared in Asymptote, The Baffler, Columbia Journal, Hungarian Literature Online, Los Angeles Review, Modern Poetry in Translation, Poet Lore, Words without Borders, World Literature Today, and were produced by Foreign Affairs, Trap Door, Theatre Y, and Trafika Europe. Recent publications include “Mr K” Released by Matéi Visniec (finalist for the 2021 EBRD Literature Prize) and “Story of a Stammer” by Gábor Vida (Seagull Books, 2022). Her forthcoming translation Home by Andrea Tompa (Istros Books, 2024) was the recipient of a PEN Translates Grant. She is a member of the UK Translators Association. Find her work at https://jozefinakomporaly.com/
MELINDA MÁTYUS (1970) is an ethnic Hungarian writer living in Transylvania. She studied theology in Cluj (Romania) and comparative literature at the University of Szeged, Hungary. Her deeply original voice has generated important professional recognition and catapulted her to the some of the most important Hungarian and Romanian literary journals such as Litera, Jelenkor, Látó, Poesis International, and World Literature Today. She is a recipient of the Látó Award for fiction in 2020 and co-authored the trilingual volume Az ember tragédiája / Tragedia omului / The Tragedy of Man edited by András Visky. Het first standalone volume of fiction is forthcoming from a prestigious publishing house in Budapest. Her bilingual volume ÉletemésÉletem/MyLifeandMyLife (translated by Jozefina Komporaly) was released by Ugly Duckling Presse in December 2023.