Authors: Eva Wiseman
The next thing I knew somebody was shaking my shoulders. I sat up groggily and wiped my eyes. Pa was standing by my bed. Warden Henter was beside him.
“I'm off now, Vamosi!” said the warden. “Remember! I didn't see you today nor do I know anything about what's going on here. Keep the noise down!”
The bars of my cell clicked shut behind him.
I could smell the liquor on Pa's breath. I pulled the blanket closer around my shoulders.
“Warden Henter tells me you want to testify tomorrow. Now why would a daughter of mine help those people?”
“I only want to tell the truth, Pa!”
“What are you going to say?”
I shrunk farther away from him.
“The truth, Pa,” I repeated. “I want to tell the truth.”
“You don't know the truth!” His voice echoed off the plaster walls until the room was full of his words.
He picked up the wooden boxes that served as my table and chair and smashed them on the floor. Splinters of wood were everywhere. For a fleeting moment I remembered the broken pews in the synagogue in Tisza-Eszlar.
“Truth! What do you mean by the truth?” Spittle pooled in the corners of his mouth “It's bad enough that my mates laugh at me because I have to work for that damned Jew Rosenberg, and that we've had to take their wretched charity Now my daughter wants everybody to know she is a Jew lover! I wouldn't be able to show my face around town!”
I shut my eyes.
“Listen to me carefully!” The quiet of his voice only made his words more menacing. “You will say nothing!”
“But, Pa …”
The sting of his slap silenced me. He yanked my hair to pull me upright and began to pummel me with his fists. I tried to shield my face with my hands but to no avail. The front of my shift was stained red, so I knew my nose was bleeding.
“What are you going to say in court?” He shook me like a rag doll.
“Mr. Eotvos told me to tell the truth, Pa, about how I identified the corpse that was fished out of the river. The dead girl was Esther for sure. I recognized her.”
He dropped me back onto the cot.
“Now listen to me carefully! You will say no such thing to the judges. You will tell them you have never set eyes on the dead girl before!”
He grabbed hold of my shift and pulled on it roughly then let go. I rolled off the cot, my pillow falling down beside me. The cot tipped over. Pa and I saw it at the same instant: my small hoard of coins wrapped in cloth. I reached for it, but Pa's hand clamped down on my wrist so I dropped the precious bundle. He scooped it up.
“What have we here?” he chuckled, putting it into his pocket.
“Pa, please! It's money I've been saving so Clara can come and live with me. Pa, she's miserable at Aunt Irma's. Ma would want us to be together!”
“Your ma wouldn't want you thieving from me!” He pulled me off the floor roughly and began to squeeze my throat. I tried to pry his fingers off my neck with no success. His fingers tightened. Black spots appeared in front of my eyes. Suddenly, he let go and I fell back to the floor, gasping for air.
“Now listen!” he cried. “You better do as I tell you or you'll regret it! Tell the judges tomorrow that you never saw the dead girl before!”
With a last kick to my stomach, he was gone. I waited for a few minutes before I tried to move my arms and legs. Nothing seemed to be broken but everything hurt. I sat up with a great deal of difficulty. It took me a moment to realize that the ragged sound I was hearing came from my own throat.
I crawled back to my cot and righted it. I lay down, my mind a jumble of fears. What should I say in court tomorrow? I knew Pa always fulfilled his threats. What could I do to get my money back? “Please, Ma, please, Ma, help me!” I prayed. I listened, willing her to come back, but I couldn't find Ma again.
For the rest of the night the demons in my brain were as bad as the pain in my body. I relived every blow from Pa's hand, every sneer that distorted his face, and every foul curse that escaped his lips. I could have borne it if he hadn't taken the money from me. Clara would die of neglect, thinking I'd deserted her if I couldn't take care of her myself. And unless the day had more hours, I could not work harder or longer. The constant work and hardships were worth it if I could make a home for Clara. But otherwise? I couldn't bear it any longer.
I closed my eyes and conjured up the time when Esther and I were still young girls in short skirts. When Ma was alive and Pa didn't drink. When the only thing we knew about Mrs. Huri was that she had shiny wooden floors in
her house and that she gave generously when the collection plate was passed in church. I realized that those carefree little girls lived only in my memory in a time that was always summer and the days felt as if they would never end.
I stared at the cracks in the plaster walls that ran like a river across the room. I remembered Esther, hidden in the bulrushes, safe for the moment from Mrs. Huri's sharp tongue. I finally understood what she was trying to tell me the last time I saw her by the village well. I hated the thought. Surely she would not have done that to herself! I crossed myself quickly. I couldn't say the word suicide even to myself. It was a mortal sin that condemned you to eternal damnation! Yet, it was the only rational explanation of her death, but I couldn't bear to believe it, not if it meant that Esther's suffering would go on through eternity Somehow I had to convince myself she was murdered by the Jews. But I knew well that the Jews were innocent.
How could I betray Esther? The shame it would bring her family! She would even be denied her final resting place in the hallowed grounds of a Christian cemetery. I felt as if a knife had stabbed me through the heart.
I lay on my cot hour after hour, waiting for the terrible night to be over. I was afraid to move because even the smallest motion caused terrible pain. My left eye was swollen shut, but I could still see the moonbeams streaking the clay floor of my cell. When dawn stole into the room through the bars of the window high up on the wall, I pulled myself up to sit, catching my breath before I lowered my feet to the
ground. The pain was so intense I had to bite my lips not to cry out loud. An evil spirit seemed to have passed through my cell. My meager furnishings were broken into pieces and thrown about as if they were pieces of kindling. I tried to stand but fell back down to the cot. The agony in my stomach and legs was overwhelming. It took several excruciating tries before I was finally on my feet. I pulled on my skirt and my Sunday blouse gingerly. My kerchief was still missing. I finally found it on the floor in a corner of the cell next to Ma's workbox. It was upended, with all of her needles and yarns littering the floor.
I was bent over and clutching my stomach as I made my way through the empty hallway to the kitchen. Although my cell was just a few meters away it took me several minutes to get there. Teresa must have gone to the market because the kitchen was empty. She'd left the shutters open to catch the breeze and cool the hot kitchen for the day's cooking. I poured some water from a pitcher into a basin and washed myself as best I could. My stomach heaved when I saw that the water was turning pink. I decided that I would worry about cleaning it up later.
I cut myself a crust of bread to gnaw on. Every mouthful hurt. I forced myself to eat. I knew I would need my strength. I ran my fingers over my lips. They were twice their normal size. I wished I owned a looking glass so I could see my face. I tied my kerchief under my chin and pulled it as far forward as I possibly could to cover my face. It was time for me to go.
The streets were already swarming with men making deliveries of food, maids off to market for the day's provisions, and visitors who had tickets for the trial and wanted to get an early start on the lineup for seats. I must have presented a frightening sight. People either stared at me with horrified expressions or quickly averted their eyes as I slowly shuffled past them.
I thought I should use the same entrance as everyone else when I arrived at the courthouse, so I walked up the broad public staircase. Every step hurt. Bako was waiting for me. His eyes rested on my battered face, but he said nothing as he led me into the courtoom. I passed Pa, who was sitting next to the door.
“Remember what I told you,” he whispered. I didn't respond. He had become, and would always be, a stranger to me.
The judges were already at their table.
“Ah! Your witness is finally here, Mr. Eotvos. About time!” said Judge Korniss.
His mouth fell open when he took a closer look at me. The onlookers in the courtroom began to whisper among themselves.
“What happened to you?” asked the judge.
“I had an accident, sir.”
“Are you all right, Julie? Is there anything you want to tell me?”
Mr. Eotvos's voice was full of concern.
“I'm fine, sir. I fell down.”
I could see by his expression he didn't believe me.
“Are you able to testify? You can return another time if it's too painful today.”
“I'd like to get it over with, sir.”
“If you're quite sure …”
“I am, sir.”
I was glad of my swollen eyes. They gave me the excuse I needed not to have to meet his gaze. The court clerk swore me in.
“Tell the court your name, please,” Mr. Eotvos said.
“I'm Julie Vamosi.”
“What was your relationship to the victim, Esther Solymosi?”
“She was a good friend, sir.”
“How well did you know her?”
“As if she were my own sister. We used to play together every day when we were young girls. After we grew and she went into service, and I had my chickens and my eggs, we were together every hour we could steal.”
“I must ask you a few questions that might be difficult for you,” said Mr. Eotvos. I braced myself.
“Do you remember what happened on Monday, June 19, 1882?”
“How could I forget? That was the day when a group of rafters fished the body of a dead girl out of the Tisza River at Csonkafuzes. It was an awful sight. Mr. Bary was there, as well as Esther's mother and sister and brother.”
“What happened then?”
“Mr. Bary asked Esther's family and two or three of their relatives from Tisza-Eszlar to look at the dead girl. When they finished, he asked me to look at her too.”
“What did these people say about the dead girl? Did they think she was Esther Solymosi?”
“No, sir, none of them thought that … not even Mrs. Solymosi. All of them were positive it wasn't Esther's body.”
“What about you? Did you think the dead girl was Esther?”
The moment I had dreaded had arrived. The courtroom fell silent. All eyes were on me. Nobody noticed Pa rising out of his seat in the back row and glaring at me with burning eyes. Nor did they see the hardness of Bary's face as he looked at me or the anger of Recsky's expression. I tasted fear in the bitterness of my mouth and felt it in the clamminess of my hands and in the cramping of my stomach.
“I'm sorry, Mr. Eotvos. I'm so sorry, but the body was in such a terrible state — bloated and buffeted by the waters -that I couldn't be sure if she was Esther.”
A tightening of his lips was the only sign of the shock Mr. Eotvos must have felt. Pa gave me a mean smirk and sat down.
“Are you sure, Julie, that you can't identify the dead girl as Esther Solymosi?” asked Mr. Eotvos.
“I'm sorry, sir, but I can't.”
I kept my eyes on the floor because I couldn't bear to look into his eyes.
“I have no more questions for this witness,” Mr. Eotvos said to Judge Korniss.
“Witness dismissed,” said the judge. “You may step down.”
As I rose from the witness chair, I happened to glance at Morris. His eyes were dull with hopelessness in his white face. I could do nothing about the injustice of Esther's short and hard life and her death, or her mother's sorrow, or the sickness that claimed my own dear ma, or Aunt Irma's cruelty to a helpless child. I couldn't make the man who fathered me treat me like a human, much less his daughter. In that moment, I realized that here was an injustice I could right. I realized I didn't have to add to the sum of misery. I heard the judge's words as if he were calling from a great distance.
“I told you that you may sit down.”
I did. I sank back into the witness chair once again.
“Your Honors, I'd like to change my testimony because the testimony I just gave is a lie.”
“Consider your words carefully, girl,” barked Judge Korniss. “Do you want us to put you in jail for perjury?”
“I'm sorry, sir … so very sorry,” I said, looking at Mr. Eotvos. “I didn't tell the truth before because I was so afraid.”
I untied my kerchief and gave the judges a full view of my battered face. The noise level in the courtroom became deafening. Judge Korniss hammered the felt-covered table with his gavel.
“Does your fear have anything to do with your injuries?” Judge Korniss sounded kinder than I'd ever heard him.
“Yes. My pa beat me up.”
Pa cried out, “You lying bitch!” A guard tried to restrain him. Pa swung at him and missed, then swung again and the guard doubled over.
“Take that man into custody! I will not tolerate such a disruption.”
“She's my daughter, ain't she? I can do with her whatever I want.” Pa's words were barely coherent. He fumbled in his pocket for his flask.
Judge Korniss spoke a word or two to the judges flanking him and stood up.
“Deputies,” he said to the armed guards by the door, “take that man into custody. We will deal with him later.”
The noise in the courtroom grew even louder as everyone scrambled for a look at the deputies as they grabbed hold of Pa's arms and snapped handcuffs over his wrists.
“You'll pay for this, bitch! You will pay!”
The deputies dragged him out of the courtroom. The onlookers sat down.
“Mr. Eotvos, continue your cross-examination of the witness,” said the judge.
“Julie, please tell the court again what happened on the banks of the Tisza River near the town of Csonkafuzes on Monday, June 19, 1882.”
“It all started when a group of Jewish rafters floating down the Tisza fished a dead body out of the river, sir. By
the time I got there, Mr. Bary and several other gentlemen from the city were standing around the body of a dead girl. I already told the court that Esther's mother and sister and brother were also there, as well as some of their friends and relatives from our hometown of Tisza-Eszlar.”
“Were there any Jews from Tisza-Eszlar present at the time?”
“No, sir.”
“Go on.”
“Mr. Bary asked Mrs. Solymosi and Sophie and Janos to identify the dead girl. They insisted it wasn't Esther. All of this happened before I got there.”
“What happened after you arrived?”
“Mr. Bary asked me to look at the poor girl.”
“And?”
“I did what he told me to do, sir. I looked at her very carefully.”
A great sadness overwhelmed me as I recalled the poor wretch's bloated body and ravaged face. I covered my mouth for a moment.
“It was just awful to see what the water did to that girl.”
Mr. Eotvos looked toward the judges as if to check that they were paying attention before asking his next question.
“Did you recognize the corpse?”
“I did, sir.”
Chaos erupted in the courtroom.
“Silence!” cried Judge Korniss as he banged his gavel. “Silence!”
“Who was the corpse? Whose body did Mr. Bary ask you to identify?” asked Mr. Eotvos.
I paused for a moment to compose my answer because I wanted my response to be crystal clear.
“The dead girl was Esther, sir. She was my friend Esther Solymosi.”
“Are you certain?”
“Yes, I am.”
“What did Mr. Bary say when you identified the corpse as Esther Solymosi?”
“He told me I was wrong.” I raised my voice slightly to make my point. “I wasn't wrong! I'm certain that the poor dead girl was Esther!”
“How can you be so sure, Julie? Even the victim's mother insists the corpse was not her daughter.”
“I recognized her! Despite the way she looked, I could still see Esther's features beneath all the damage done to her face by the river.”
“Liar!” cried Mrs. Solymosi, jumping up from her seat. “Shut your mouth, you liar! That ugly lump was not my beautiful girl!” Her pain was as fresh as it had been that day on the riverbank.
“She was Esther!” I told her. “You just don't want to admit it because of what the river did to her!”
“Please sit down, Mrs. Solymosi,” said Judge Korniss. “Sit down or I'll have you removed from the courtroom!”
He turned to me.
“You will only answer questions from the defense counsel! Understood?”
“Yes, sir. I'm sorry, sir.”
“Let's continue with our cross-examination,” said Mr. Eotvos. “Julie, you claim you recognized the corpse Mr. Bary asked you to identify?”
“Yes, sir, I did. She was Esther, but there were also other reasons why I knew it had to be her.”