The summer morning bowed in with glorious sunshine streaming through the windows of the grammar school in Ajka.
Songbirds sang amorously in the park in front of the school, and the air was spiced with the sweet fragrance of lilac. Taking to their wings, many student hearts flew off in happy search of partners. As days stretched ever longer, teenagers got entangled in their irresistible desires.
Since Robert had first kissed her, Angela had also been floating in the infinite universe of love. Neither a difficult exam nor vicious backbiting could disturb her honey-sweet world of dreams. She could not pay any attention during lessons at all. Her mind was occupied with the memory of the boy who had promised to come back home every weekend. Oh, how much I love him! She drew little red hearts all over her maths exercise book. She wrote ‘Robbie’ on all of them in small letters.
The bell rang at long last. Most of those whose heads were also ringing with the knowledge crammed into them, and who had no more lessons, filed out of their classrooms with whoops. The gravel on the path winding across the park crackled under the feet of the pupils pouring out.
Angela found relief from the glaring sunshine on a bench under a plantain tree with her classmate Amanda, who, with her braces, hair dyed in lilac stripes and her worn leather jacket, looked like the star of a teen serial. She plied Angela with words in her rasping voice: never-ending stories and, of course, the latest gossip all teenage girls worth the name needed to hear. Angela was trying to decode the masses of information swooping down on her, staring at her pumps, while that mysterious night with Robert drifted before her eyes like a hazy memory. What a night it had been! Thinking back to it, her soul melted. She felt fear mixed with happiness when Amanda told her what a lot of gossip and wondering had surrounded her bench-mate since the miracle. Angela had already been visited by reporters from several newspapers and had also appeared briefly in a TV programme. She was asked how she had learnt this special resuscitation technique, ‘which was so unique,’ she read in a paper, ‘that it even interfered with mobile phones.’ However, several students had made video recordings using their phones, however, except for some indiscernible, red and green spots, there was nothing visible on the recordings. Some had cried the devil, others an angel, so the two camps finely balanced each other out. She also met the boy’s exuberantly grateful parents; they must surely have thought her an angel.
Following her monologue of several hundred words, Amanda asked, ‘Angela, do you think there’s another world?’
Angela, drawing a flower with her foot in the sea of pebbles, replied, ‘That’s why I’ve been pestered for weeks.’
‘What do you mean by that? Do you mean the other world helped you? Are you really a demon after all? Are the rumours right?’
‘Amanda, don’t you start. Why should I be? Hmm? Anyway, my hair isn’t black,’ she answered and fluttered her eyelashes charmingly.
‘Not so fast! There are fair-haired demons as well, and they’re even more dangerous.’
‘Is that true? Are you speaking from experience?’
She winked at Amanda, who instantly returned the arrow shot at her.
‘Yes, I am. For example, I know one who made love to Réka’s brother.’
‘Amanda!’
Angela’s face went red and she started to fumble nervously in her handbag.
‘Angie, it’s nothing to be ashamed of. Nobody’s a whore just because she’s gone to bed with the person she loves.’
Angela zipped up her handbag irritably.
‘I was terribly exhausted that morning. I hardly had the strength to walk. But even if we had made love, I wouldn’t discuss it with you,’ she said. She leapt up angrily, but Amanda caught her arm.
‘Oh, Angie, don’t! Please wait. I didn’t mean it like that. Of course I’m glad you’ve found love. If only I had an admirer as good-looking as Robert. He gets my full approval.’
Angela succumbed to the flattery and tiredly threw her white-striped canvas handbag back onto the bench, thinking I won’t easily escape from Amanda very quickly today, either.
‘Anyway, it wasn’t me who was listening by the door. It was Robbie’s sister. I wasn’t even there.’
‘Well, that surprises me. I can’t believe she hasn’t got anything better to do than spy on her brother.’
‘C’mon, Angela, she was only worried about you.’
‘Why? Because of her brother?’
‘I’m sure she knows him better than you do …’
‘Even so, she’s not the one going out with him. I am. I’ll get to know him for myself.’
‘All right.’ Amanda nodded humbly, with her braces flashing, ‘Calm down.’
The two girls went on tittering and tattling under the foliage for long minutes without realizing that alert eyes were watching them from a police car. The two policemen were waiting for the right moment. They had been ordered to take the girl to the station quietly, if possible. They were in luck. Amanda soon stood up and left with brisk steps – heading for the nearby shop to get two ice lollies. The two men looked at each other and instantly got out of the car. Angela felt relieved at the end of the flood of words and sent a message to Robert in the welcome quiet. Her face softened and she only looked up when the two policemen were already blocking her sunshine.
‘Good day! Angela Bergman?’
She was startled. The last time she had heard her name pronounced in such a formal way was on speech day at school when outstanding sports players were awarded prizes – she was one of the highly promising players of the volleyball club.
‘Yes, … yes, it’s me,’ she answered, blinking up at the men in uniform.
‘No reason to worry, miss,’ the smaller one murmured, taking out his identity card and badge. ‘We’ve been sent by the superintendent to take you to the station. In connection with the recent accident, you see. That is, he’d like to know a few more details about the drowning. It won’t take more than an hour. D’you have some spare time now, Angela?’
Instead of an answer, the girl blew the air out of her lungs.
‘Everything all right?’ the policeman enquired.
‘Yes, of course.’
She thought it was best to get over with it as soon as possible.
‘Let’s go.’
They headed towards the police car across the park. Its reflective stripes were dimly visible in the distance. Angela was glad they had parked so far away. They had at least that much brain. This is embarrassing. Let’s get out of here as soon as possible.
‘You can call your parents first,’ one of them said, ‘so that they don’t worry when they find you’re not here.’
‘I don’t need to: I’ve arranged to let them know when I’m coming home today.’
‘As you wish,’ the policeman replied. He shrugged his shoulders and took out the car keys.
Angela enjoyed every minute of the journey to the station, and especially liked the way motorists ducked their heads like scared birds at the sight of the police car.
‘Now everyone’s braking a bit,’ the girl called to the driver at the front.
‘They could really step on it as far as I’m concerned, I hate this crawling,’ the policeman answered sternly. A sad song came on the radio but did not affect Angela at all. Love kept her happy all the time. Of course, what else could people doing this job be like? she thought on arriving at the police station. Even policemen would feel incarcerated when they had to spend so much of their time in such a socialist-era cube of a building. Worn photos and medals were arranged on the walls with military precision. No disorder, no deviation anywhere. No slackness would be tolerated here. The girl was already expected in a smoke-smelling office.
A lanky man with a stork’s nose, whose uniform was uncreased even while he was seated, introduced himself, ‘Welcome, Angela. I’m superintendent Tibor Varga, Please forgive me for hauling you back here about this matter, but we won’t inconvenience you again, I promise. Let me introduce Father Adriano Esposito, who has come here from Budapest to talk to you. He’s someone who deals with any kind of supernatural events for the Church.’
‘I’d like to extend my welcome to you too, Angela,’ the clergyman cut in, looking at the girl. ‘I’m very glad to meet you in person.’
‘Hello to you, too,’ the girl replied coldly. ‘Why do you need the police? Why didn’t you just visit me personally at home?’
Adriano looked at the policemen and broke into a sinister smile.
‘You’re actually right, I probably could have. But, please,’ he nodded towards the girl, ‘disregard the uniforms and the police car. Superintendent Varga is an old friend of mine and I don’t know my way around here.’
‘That’s right,’ the superintendent agreed. ‘We’ve known each other for a good twenty years, and this has given us a good excuse to meet up again.’
A clergyman has a policeman as a friend? Angela wondered.
‘Gentlemen?’ Adriano turned towards the policemen.
‘Come with me,’ the superintendent ordered the policemen who had brought Angela in. ‘Let’s leave them alone.’
They were off in a jiffy: Adriano and Angela were left alone. Why do I feel that these policemen are afraid of this man? Who scares the police? the girl wondered. The clergyman waited for the sound of steps to die down and then began his story.
‘My dear Angela, I talked to your parents on the phone today, and they confirmed my supposition that you possess very special abilities.’ He turned the huge golden and sapphire ring on his finger.
How can a priest afford a ring like that? And what’s with this exaggerated self-assurance? ‘So, have my parents told you everything?’
The man nodded.
‘That is, I think, almost everything. But I’d like to hear the full story from you too.’
Pride flamed up in the girl, but she pouted and said, ‘I’m sorry, Mr Adriano, but wasn’t what my parents told you enough?’
‘Well, yes, it probably was. But I’d like to get to know you better now that there’s a chance we may become colleagues.’
‘Colleagues?’
‘Yes, in accomplishing a task of vital importance,’ he quickly answered. But he realised he’d been overhasty when the girl began to shake her head.
‘Hold on. Wait. I don’t want any kind of work. Anyway, what could I help you with? I’m only a grammar-school girl. I don’t know what this is all about, I want to go home.’
Adriano slackened the hook as it became clear to him that the fish would swim off forever if he made only one more careless move. And then Ennio would have him quartered. He folded his hands, as if in prayer, and leant forward confidentially as far over the table as he could.
‘Angela, we need to find some people who are obstacles to the development of this world and to a life of happiness and riches for all. These people insist that there’s a need for grief, poverty and sickness in the world.’
‘I don’t get it. Who’d want that?’
‘People who adamantly cling to their own ideas and possess, unfortunately, huge mental powers. They purport to be servants of God, whereas they’re the ones who bring about human suffering. You may be able to help us find them.’
‘They’re servants of God and yet so harmful?’
‘No, they aren’t God’s servants; they only pretend to be. We have to find them, they’re dangerous people.’
Angela saw that the clergyman was talking to her earnestly, his earlier self-assurance gone. This put her a bit more at ease.
‘If I perhaps succeeded in finding them, what would happen them afterwards, Father Adriano?’
‘Oh, that wouldn’t be your problem. You’d just help us to find them – in exchange for proper remuneration, as a matter of course.’
‘So is this proper work?’
‘Yes,’ the man smiled. ‘You could think of it as a sort of summer job. Surely you’d like to earn some money, wouldn’t you?’
‘What makes you think that?’
‘That’s only my guess.’
Angela stroke her hair and asked, ‘Mr Adriano, may I ask what you’re going to do with them when you’ve found them?’
Adriano’s lips quivered. He had not expected such straightforward questions. He’d been convinced that the teenage girl would only ask about the amount of money she would be paid.
‘Naturally, we would convince them, with Christian affection, to forsake their erroneous ways and accept the hand we extend to them to help them embark upon a new course. We would like to change them into useful and cooperative members of society.’
Feelings of scorn coursed across Angela’s face, she tightened her lips. Of course!
Pigeons kicked off the windowsill towards the sky, fluttering and cooing, only their feathers descended giddily from high above.
‘It all sounds very good and noble, but what would happen if they didn’t want to accept your help?’
‘We’d be patient and persist: the Word of God tells us to love our enemies,’ the churchman answered with nerves resonating in his voice. Angela did not let go.
‘Still, why is it so important to you to find them that you are willing to spend money on it? Somehow the pieces of the picture don’t add up.’
‘Angela, this is too complicated to explain now, but I’ll try. I’ve asked Mr Varga to give us an hour, and it looks like we’ll need it.’
‘Let’s assume I accept your offer. When would I have time for it? Would I only need to give up my summer holiday?’
Adriano nodded.
‘In that case, you’d have to pay a lot,’ she replied laughing. ‘Because, besides my parents, the most precious things in the world to me are my summer holidays.’
‘I understand that.’ The man leaned back, relaxed, sure of his success. ‘Do you mind if I smoke?’
‘Go ahead,’ Angela said. ‘I like cigarette smoke.’
The minute hand of the clock on the wall had jumped more than sixty times by the time Adriano had wound up his story about the Catholic Church and the Alliance of Peoples, of which he was also a stalwart. She listened to the list of various services performed by the clergyman in amazement. Her change in mood was picked up by the man too; he was smiling victoriously by the end.
‘You don’t have to reply now, of course. I can’t expect you to do that, Angela. Think it over, talk it through with your parents and decide afterwards.’
Unexpectedly, he handed a padded envelope over to Angela and added, ‘In this envelope you’ll find a letter sent by Archbishop Ennio Marino, from Italy. This letter must not be seen by anyone but you and your parents – it is confidential. Can I trust you, Angela?’
‘Yes, but why is the envelope so thick? Has he written so much?’
‘No, not really. But the archbishop would like to give you a personal gift for doing what you did for that boy who fell in the water. He was happy to hear you’d acted following divine inspiration. Saving the life of a fellow human is the most valuable service you can give. Now, take this envelope, take good care of it and only open it at home, in a safe place, all right?’
‘Yes sir!’ said Angela briskly, saluting with her hand at her forehead. ‘An order is an order.’
Adriano smiled.
‘Well, yes, we’re at a police station. By the way, your mother is waiting for you in front of the building. I told her you’d be here.’
The girl scratched her head.
‘Have I done something wrong?’ the man asked.
‘Well, truth be told, I wanted to go home on my own, but it doesn’t matter.’
‘Apologies, I didn’t know. But if you have any more questions about this – and I’m almost certain you will – please don’t hesitate to ask me. Here’s my card.’
Angela took the envelope and the blue card carefully and slipped them into her bag. There may be money inside. She sighed but knew she was right. She was overcome with happiness and zipped her bag close quickly.
‘Well, see you soon.’ Adriano smiled at her. ‘I’m staying for a little while.’
‘See you.’ Angela took her leave too.
‘Can you find your way out?’
Angela nodded. Once she had left the room, her curiosity multiplied with each second. She wanted to tear into the envelope like a dog that has stolen meat from her owner. Clutching her prize, she accelerated her steps towards the exit.
Her mother was waiting for her in the sunshine, and hugged her. The heat slapped Angela in the face after the coolness inside.
‘Wow, it’s hot out here!’
‘Yes, we’ll soon be able to set up the pool in the garden.’
‘Don’t talk to me about pools for a while, Mum.’ A mysterious smile lurked in Angela’s eyes.
‘Now, tell me what they wanted this time!’
‘I’ll tell you all at home, Mum. We may have a windfall,’ she replied, and disentangled herself from her mother’s embrace.
Angela adamantly abided by her promise to Adriano, so her mother could not extricate a single word out of her on the car trip, except for boring generalities. She talked as if she were afraid that the contents of the envelope would dissolve into thin air if she said anything about the priest.
On arriving home she tugged off her shoes and ran straight to her room with her bag.
Edith heard the key turn in the lock and then silence ensued. Although she was tormented by curiosity, she was determined not to disturb Angela, knowing well that she would soon emerge from her den. She can’t keep it inside forever, but if I press her, she’ll only drag her feet for longer. I’d do the same myself, she considered while tidying up the footwear scattered about in the hall. She went to put away the shopping bags, but, when she let go of the handles, a head of cabbage rolled back to the threshold, frightening the cat preening there to death. Edith laughed out loud.
‘What is it? Don’t you want to play with balls any more, you little imp?’
In the meantime, Angela ceremoniously placed the envelope on the bedspread then opened it. Her head turned when she saw the huge bundle of hundred-dollar bills enclosed with the letter. Her hands trembled and she started three times before she was able to finish counting it. She imagined herself on a tropical island, then at the jeweller’s. She unfolded the letter, then realized she was actually holding two: a handwritten one with another, smaller, typed one folded inside it. The first was written in shapely, winding letters – but it was in Italian, unfortunately. The other was in Hungarian.
Dear Angela,
My name is Archbishop Ennio Marino. I was formerly head of the Vatican’s secret archives and I am also a member of an organization which considers its mission to be to forward the spiritual and material welfare of mankind. It is a wholly voluntary organization called the Alliance of Peoples. It has numerous influential and prestigious members, who are instrumental in performing our activities.
We have established humanitarian organizations, schools and other social and cultural institutions to help people live in better spiritual and material circumstances. The widespread nature of our work means that institutions for which we provide the principal material and spiritual basis can be found all over the world.
Naturally, faithful to the Word of God, we stay in the background and refrain from advertising ourselves. Our long-term aim is to create a society where the minimum number of people live in poverty, or suffer from sickness, crime and other kinds of spiritual distress. We wish to follow to that part of the Word which says, ‘Go, stand in the temple courts … and tell the people all about this new life!’ (Acts, 5:20, NIV) In my opinion, a good society begins with good ideas and ends in good acts.
You must be asking how you can help with this process, seeing that you are neither rich, nor influential, nor have you experience. However, you have a supernatural ability that, as far as we know, very few people possess today. Even you yourself probably don’t understand it precisely, but, in my view, you can call upon energy and information from the invisible world. To get to the point, Angela, you are like a live key, a key that can open a passage to the unknown, into a dimension we are unable to experience with our eyes and ears. In our circles, everybody is sure that processes taking place in that unknown world influence and control events in our world. That other world is full of energy and power, while we are but a shadow of the phenomena there, beggars clinging to empty tins and incessantly entreating others for a bit of power or material goods.
Wonderfully, this other world reacts to our signals and wishes, since every one of our thoughts is a quantum-mechanical wave, a fiery arc of energy pressing into the invisible and, possibly, influencing it. So, Angela, to put it more clearly, what we think influences that other world and, indirectly, our own personal future. Your thought waves, however, are so strong that they may have a global impact. We consider it our mission to help you …
She broke off reading the letter. The scratching sound of a mouse caught her attention – but she realized it was her mother.
‘Angela,’ Edith whispered pressing her mouth to the door, ‘may I come in? Could we talk please?’
The lock turned quietly. Edith stepped inside timidly.
‘My God!’ she exclaimed as she instantly saw the money on the bed and ran nearer, almost sweeping the peacock feathers in the glass vase off the table. ‘These are hundred-dollar bills! Where are they from? Were they in that envelope? What do those people want from you? We can’t accept it! No, something’s wrong with this. Good God, what on earth would they pay so much for?’ she squawked like a parrot.
Angela took a deep breath and, staring up at the worn wallpaper, where she had once stuck a poster of a fire-red Porsche, screamed at the top of her voice,
‘Muuum!’
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