Page 23 of The Righteous

Theresa pointed at the large domed structure. “Look over there,” she said. “That is the Royal Palace. King Charles lived there until he was deposed at the end of World War I. Now it is the home of Regent Miklós Horthy.”

“You mean we’re going to live next to Regent Horthy?” Julia asked.

“Not next door,” Carl answered. “His residence is blocked off and heavily guarded. Your rooms are in the building at the base of the hill, next to the National Assembly, where the Swiss embassy is located.”

“Look!” Julia exclaimed, pointing. “There is the statue of Prince Eugene of Savoy on his horse, just like you described it to me. Where are the King Matthias and Ilonka statues?”

Theresa smiled. “In the western courtyard on the other side. You have a good memory.”

“I feel like I’ve been here before,” Julia said, craning her neck to see in every direction. “Thanks to you, Terri, I’ve already seen these buildings in my mind.”

The limousine stopped at a large granite office building bearing the address Szabadsag tér 12. One of Carl’s assistants came out to meet the car and motioned for Julia and Theresa to accompany him. “Paul will show you to your rooms,” Carl said.

The tall, heavyset man put their suitcases on a cart and motioned for Julia and Theresa to follow. When he had reached the rooms, Paul said, “Mr. Lutz requests that you meet with him in two hours in his office, room 217.”

Each room was like a small studio apartment, with a desk and a sofa bed.

There was a kitchenette and a full bathroom.

The picture on Julia’s wall above the couch was a watercolor painting of the San Francisco Bay Bridge, a sure sign that her room had been a US consulate apartment before it was vacated.

Julia felt right at home. She put her things away, rested for a while, and then went to meet up with the others in room 217.

Theresa was the first to address the group.

“Before you say anything, Carl, I want you to know how grateful I am. You have accomplished the impossible. You enabled me to return to Budapest in the midst of a terrible war to visit my family, and if necessary, to help them emigrate. I left in 1934, almost ten years ago, when my community was peaceful and prosperous. In the ensuing years, the world has witnessed the German aggression in Europe and its unjustifiable treatment of millions of innocent Jewish families. Hungary’s leadership must be praised for not following Germany’s racial orders.

As far as I am told, Regent Horthy has not persecuted this country’s Jews.

But now we may have reason to fear. We heard that Hitler has massed his military troops not far from Hungary’s border.

I also understand that you, on occasion, have arranged for innocent families, Jewish and non-Jewish, to leave Hungary and find safety in other countries.

I hope to be able to do the same thing for my family, should that be necessary.

Now that I am here and working for the Swiss embassy, I want you to feel free to use me in whatever capacity you wish. ”

Carl smiled. “Your assistance will be most welcome, Theresa. Your experience and knowledge of Hungary are priceless, not to mention the connections that you and your family have with Budapest society. You can go places that I cannot. Together, we can form a headquarters for passing information and if necessary to manage rescue operations.”

“Thank you,” she said, “and if you do not mind, I would like to use your telephone to call my parents. I tried from the US without success, and I haven’t spoken to them in a year.”

Carl nodded and gestured to the phone sitting on the desk. “It’s all yours.”

Theresa quickly walked over, picked up the phone, took a deep breath, and dialed. After a moment, she shook her head. “It’s ringing—that’s a good sign—but there is no answer. I’ll just have to walk over there and surprise them in person. I pray that they are all right.”

“And I’ll go with you,” Julia said.

“There is another matter to discuss,” Julia said.

“John Pehle is expecting me to relay information to the WRB each day, if possible. I haven’t spoken to him since we left Washington five days ago.

I’d like to bring him up to date, especially with Rolf’s comments that Germany may have its sights on Switzerland.

I don’t know if the WRB, or even the State Department, is aware of that information.

Does the embassy have access to any long-distance communication equipment? ”

“Of course,” Carl said. “The embassy has a Hallicrafters SCR-299, if you’re familiar with it.

It has a range of two thousand miles, more than enough to reach England.

From there, US Army communication officers stationed in England will be able to transmit messages on the subsea cable.

Are either of you up to date on US codes? ”

“I am,” Julia said. “I used that equipment to contact OSS and England’s MI5 when I was in Amsterdam.”

“Very well. Our communication room is in the basement. You will find the transmitter down there. If you have any trouble, Charles will assist you. Just let him know when you need access. I would like it if you were present this evening at a get-acquainted meeting. Try to be in my office at eight o’clock. You can meet Charles at that time.”

“Well,” Theresa said, “I’d like to see my parents. Are we ready to go to their house?”

“Just a minute,” Julia said. “If your father doesn’t have a working telephone, how are you supposed to stay in contact with Carl and the embassy?”

“Good point,” said Carl. “Julia is an American citizen and a staff member of the US State Department. Theresa is a US permanent resident and a professor at a noted US university. You are in an enemy Axis country. The two of you would make valuable hostages. The embassy has a private phone number that is monitored at all times. Feel free to use your parents’ phone or a public pay phone if you need to contact us.

Remember, each of you is carrying a Swiss letter of protection. Don’t lose it. And be careful.”

Julia and Theresa were walking to the door when Carl added, “What are you doing about currency? Even a public pay phone costs money. How do you get a cup of coffee? If you didn’t bring Hungarian currency, what will you do?”

“I still have some checks from my account at the bank here in Budapest. Can’t I write a check?”

Carl slowly shook his head. “The answer is no, for any number of reasons, including that you may not have any money left in the account. Several accounts have been frozen or depleted. I assume you haven’t used the account for the past ten years.

So, don’t write a check.” He reached into his desk and pulled out some currency.

“We’ll charge it against the WRB. If the Treasury Department can’t repay it, we’re in trouble,” he said with a smile.

Theresa and Julia left Castle Hill and headed out into the neighborhoods of Budapest. It was March 14, the weather was pleasant, and the sky was clear.

There was a smile on Theresa’s face and a bounce in her step.

“It feels like I never left,” Theresa said.

“Everything looks just the same. If I turned the corner and walked that way, I’d be back at my high school. ”

Julia nodded. She understood. “When I first returned to Detroit after serving in Amsterdam, I felt the same way. I was home where I belonged, but the feeling didn’t last. The neighborhood hadn’t changed, it all looked the same, but I had changed.

Six years had passed with nothing to show for it.

All of my friends had moved on with the rest of their lives.

They had husbands and children and jobs. I had nothing. I didn’t belong.”

Theresa brushed away the remark. “Nonsense. You were a hero. You received a Distinguished Service Medal from the State Department and a lot of memories.”

Julia shook her head. “But you have a postgraduate degree and a professorship. Most importantly, you have a future waiting for you in Ann Arbor. What do I have? I ran off with a stupid bass player.”

“Give yourself a break, Julia. You’ve been serving your country at great risk to yourself, and you’re still doing it.

Even more importantly, you’ve been serving humanity.

What about the hundreds of Dutch children you rescued?

There are thousands and thousands of American soldiers who come home after their years of service.

Are they supposed to say the same thing?

That they wasted their time, that they don’t belong anymore and they have nothing to show for their service?

Are they supposed to feel shame? I hope you don’t feel that way.

Like the returning soldiers, you should say, ‘I proudly served my country.’ Our country should honor that service, and I think it does. ”

They turned the corner, and Theresa’s face lit up. “Look,” she said, “Ruszwurm Pastry Shop.”

“I remember you telling me about it,” Julia said. “They have creamy hot chocolate and Esterházy tortes.”

“Exactly. Let’s stop in,” said Theresa. “We’ll get a bag of tortes to take to my mom. She loves them.”

As they approached the clerk, Julia said, “ Szia, ” and the clerk smiled, nodded, and said szia in return. Julia elbowed Theresa and waited for a compliment.

“Very good,” Theresa said. “You just told her hello, and she said hi to you. Well done.”

Julia cleared her throat and said, “ Orvendek, ” and the clerk nodded. Theresa ordered the tortes, smiled, and said, “You just told her it was a pleasure to meet her. Nicely done.”

The clerk handed the bag of tortes to Theresa, along with a few words in Hungarian, but Julia did not understand all of them. Theresa smiled and paid for the tortes.

“ Koszonom a cipodet, ” Julia called out to the clerk as they turned to leave, but this time, the clerk wrinkled her forehead as if to say, “What?”

Theresa laughed. “What do you think you just said to her?”

Julia responded, “I said, ‘Thank you for the pastries.’”

Theresa laughed again. “Not exactly. You should have said, ‘ Koszonom a sutemenyeket. ’”

“Uh-oh. What did I actually say?” Julia asked.

“You said, ‘Thank you for the front door.’”

Julia grimaced. “I think I’ll let you do the talking when we get to your parents’ house.”

“Keep studying,” Theresa said. “You’re doing well.”