“Meaning what?”
“Look, sooner or later they’ll have to take these people to Vienna. But I prefer to go right now. Want to join me?”
“Sure. Do you have a map?”
“In here,” the little man answered, pointing to his head. “I memorized everything. All we have to do is head north and watch the signs. Okay, let’s separate and stroll nonchalantly toward the far exit. When you’re sure nobody’s looking, slip away and start walking along the main road. We’ll rendezvous at the first beerhouse on the right-hand side.”
They nodded and quickly parted company. George hurried as inconspicuously as possible to the edge of the station. Then, after whistling his way past the armed guards, he began to stride northward as quickly as he could.
The first tavern was a mere six hundred yards away. The older man was already there, leaning casually against a fading wooden sign that identified the establishment as “Der Wiener Keller.”
“It means the Vienna Wine Cellar,” explained Miki, pointing to the placard. “It’s a sort of weak pun on ‘Wein’ and ‘Wien.’ Not sophisticated enough for gentlemen like us. I suggest we move on.”
Without another word they set off.
“How’s your English?” asked Miki, as they marched briskly. “I don’t know a single word,” George replied.
“Oh yes, you’re one of those privileged party children who get to study all those years of Russian, Not very provident of you, was it?”
“No. But I’ll start learning English the minute I can buy a book.”
“You’re walking with one,” his fellow refugee replied. “If you pay attention, I will have you speaking good American before We reach Vienna.”
“Okay.” George smiled. “Start teaching.”
“First lesson. Repeat after me, ‘I am a cool cat. You are a cool cat. He is a cool cat. She is a — ’ ”
“What does that mean?” George asked.
“ ‘Cool cat’ is a nice compliment meaning ‘good person.’ Trust me, George, I’m up-to-date from studying all the newspapers. Now stop the questions and start repeating.”
After two hours, George was able to make a modicum of idiomatic small talk. He knew how to flatter his future countrymen. To tell them that life in Hungary was “a drag.” And that the United States was the hope for the future of all mankind. On the more pragmatic side, he was able to ask where the men’s room was.
They slowed somewhat as they crossed the Danube. For they both were acutely aware that, a few hundred kilometers to the east, this same river bisected their native city.
“Do you have family back in Budapest?” George asked. Miki hesitated. His expression seemed to alter slightly.
“Not anymore,” he answered enigmatically. “And you?”
Regretting that he had broached the subject, George responded with the same words: “Not anymore.”
And he once more fought to drive the thoughts of Aniko from his mind.
Miki explained that he was going to seek out the major American relief organizations and tell each one of them that he had a sister and brother-in-law in Illinois. He also had a profession. And besides, Charles Lancaster was willing to be his sponsor.
“Who the hell is Charles Lancaster?” asked George.
“My brother-in-law, of course.”
“ ‘Lancaster?’ ”
“Listen, Gyuri, if your name were Karoly Lukacs, wouldn’t you change it to something more familiar to the American ear?”
George agreed. And immediately applied the lesson to his own predicament. “But, Miki, what will they make of ‘Gyuri Kolozsdi’?”
“They will make a mess of it, my friend. An American needs an American name.”
“Well, what would you suggest?”
“ ‘Gyorgy’ is no problem,” answered Miki, clearly enjoying the opportunity to rebaptize an adult. “It simply becomes ‘George.’ But ‘Kolozsdi’ must be replaced by something clear and neat.”
George searched his mind. For some strange reason, his thoughts returned to that first tavern on the road to freedom — Der Wiener Keller. “How does ‘George
“Very dignified. Very dignified indeed.”
At this point they could have taken a tram, but George was loath to leave his new friend.
“Do you think they’ll want a simple student? I mean, I have no degree or anything,”
“Then you must find something that will make them want you.”
“I was studying Soviet law. What good is that in America?”
“Aha — there you have it. You have had a thorough party education. You know Russian almost as a mother tongue. Tell them you want to use this knowledge in the struggle against world communism. Tell them you want to go to university to help in this fight.”
“Any university in particular?”
“In America, the two best are Harvard and Yale. But you’d better say you want to go to Harvard.”
“Why?”
Miki smiled. “Because for a Hungarian, ‘Yale’ is too hard to pronounce.”
They finally parted company on the Ringstrasse.
“Good luck, Georgie.”
“Miki, I’ll never forget what you’ve done for me.”
Several moments later George discovered an envelope in his pocket. It contained Miki’s future address in Highland Park, Illinois. And twenty-five U.S. dollars.
The American Red Cross committee seemed fairly impressed with George’s academic background. But instead of receiving an air ticket, he was assigned to barracks on the outskirts of town. This wouldn’t do.
George approached a fresh-faced official wearing a Red Cross tag that identified him as:
ALBERT BEDDING
English-Deutsch-Francais
“Excuse me, Mr. Redding,” George said politely. “I would like to go to Harvard.”
“Who wouldn’t?” The young man laughed. “I got turned down flat. And I was third in my graduating class and editor of the paper. But don’t you worry, we’ve got lots of colleges. You’ll finish your studies, I’ll promise you that.”
But George had a trump card, one of the “key American phrases” Miki had taught him on their march from Eisenstadt to Vienna.
“Mr. Redding,” he said with a slight quaver in his voice, “I — I want to be in America… for Christmas.”
It worked! George could see from the expression on Redding’s face that he was moved by this lonely refugee’s yearning.
“You’re a good fella, you know that?” he said with genuine affection. “Look — give me your name and I’ll see what I can do.”
Gyorgy Kolozsdi spoke his freshly minted appellation for the first time. “It’s Keller. George Keller.”
“Well, George,” said Albert, “I can’t promise anything, but come back and see me tomorrow morning, okay?”
“Okay.”
“And if there’s anything you need in the meantime —”
“There is,” George interrupted this gentle attempt to brush him off. “I understand it is possible to get
