Once we were outside, Dan thrust the rolled magazine article toward me.
“Give this to your girl. Tell her it’s a present from New Jersey.”
I hesitated. The article was stolen property, but I wanted it for Liliana. I took it and quickly stuffed it in my jacket. “Seems like you miss home.”
“A lot. Romania doesn’t have a strong international high school yet, so I’m stuck at the apartment with a tutor all day. I wanted to stay at my school in the States, but my parents insisted our family travel together. If things are quiet at the embassy next month, they’ve promised we’ll go home for Christmas. I can’t wait. I’ll bring back some new stamps.”
“Great.”
“Hey, Cris.” Dan paused. “Don’t tell my parents that I ripped the page out of the magazine, okay?”
The way he said it, he was concerned. “Okay,” I said. He seemed relieved. Maybe the bravado had been for show.
“And by the way,” he said. “I’ve heard your mom call you Cristi. In the States, that’s a girl’s name, you know.” He laughed and punched my shoulder.
My brain was full of static. I could barely process it all: Ceau?escu had visited Disneyland. He had outfoxed everyone.
Hungary was free. They had broken away from communism.
Mr. Van Dorn wanted me to see the magazine, to know that. Why?
I had an article about Bruce Springsteen for Liliana.
What would I report to Paddle Hands?
In the United States, Cristi was a girl’s name.
But shouting in refrain—
Hungary was free.
Hungary was free?
|| INFORMER REPORT ||
[11 Nov. 1989]
Cristian Florescu （17）， student at MF3 High School.
Observed Saturday afternoon in the American Library with Dan Van Dorn. Florescu scanned books in the travel section and read through an American political magazine. He then sat with Van Dorn at a table. Dan Van Dorn tore a page out of a magazine and put it in his book bag. Florescu did not object nor report him. Florescu then departed with Van Dorn.
31
TREIZECI ?I UNU
A lie is like a snowball. It rolls, becomes bigger, heavier, and eventually, it’s difficult to lift. I had thought I was strong. But how much weight could I actually carry?
I couldn’t mention the American Library to Bunu. He’d ask questions and my answers would just create a bigger snowball. I decided to tell Bunu I’d heard mention of Hungary on the street and that we had to get our radio fixed to find out what was going on.
I arrived at our apartment and found a woman in the stairwell struggling with a large suitcase.
“Bun?!” she said. “Could I trouble you to help me?”
“Sure. Would you prefer the elevator?”
She shook her head. “I don’t want to risk the power going out. I can’t be stuck in there.”
Her shiny gold earrings were shaped like lightning bolts. I looked at her suitcase. One of the luggage tags was labeled in English. American Airlines.
“You’re from the States?”
“I’m from Romania, but I live in Boston.”
What? How did a Romanian woman get a passport to leave the country and live in Boston? People who applied to emigrate were often punished. Severely. But I could see it. Her bright green coat, fancy red boots, and the chic cut of her hair; she carried an air of elsewhere.
I took her suitcase. “Which floor?”
“Third. I’m visiting my mother. Irina Drucan.”
I nodded.
Her voice lowered. “She’s dying, you know.”
I didn’t know. I’m sure the Reporters did. Maybe Bunu and Cici too. All I knew was that Mrs. Drucan was elderly. I couldn’t remember the last time I saw her.
The woman’s eyes filled with tears. She took a deep breath and began pacing. “I’m sorry, just a moment.”
“I’m not in a hurry.”
She looked at me with gratitude. “What’s your name?”
“Cristian.”
“Mersi, Cristian.”
I lugged her heavy suitcase up to the third floor. She opened the apartment door and the stale scent of illness quickly swept into the corridor. She paused, fingers clutching the doorframe while gathering herself. Her voice choked with emotion. “S?rut mana, Mam?. I’m here.”
I stood, waiting. Did she need help?
“Mersi, Cristian.” She quietly closed the door.
I proceeded up the flight of steps to the fourth floor. My mother’s exasperated whisper filled our small apartment.
“You infuriate me, old man! I was saving those to get medicine for you!”