City Dreams by Zary Fekete
A Hungarian screenwriter gets his lucky break, and travels with his beloved to the capital city to meet his destiny.
Ildi looked out the window of the rattling train. She had never gone so fast before. The horse cart that brought her and Janos to the train station seemed sluggish by comparison. This was like flying. Her nose was plastered to the glass as she watched the small villages whip by.
She took a deep breath, sat back in her seat with a dizzy smile and clasped Janos's hand to her chest. She gave his cheek a small kiss and looked up at their suitcase in the overhead rack.
"Darling?" Ildi said. "Could you read the letter again?
"Of course, dear," he smiled and touched the end of her nose with his finger as he stood up. He lifted the suitcase down and after a moment's searching pulled out the folded white letter. He carefully unfolded it while balancing himself against the rocking of the train. He cleared his throat and read, "Dearest sir, we were supremely impressed with your script and are pleased to offer you a meeting with our leadership team at your earliest convenience. At Mountain Top Pictures, we believe in presenting the finest perspectives on modern life through the lens of the camera. It is clear from your work that you believe in what we believe. If convenient for you, please meet us at our headquarters in Budapest. Sincerely, Peter Toth, President of Mountain Top Pictures."
Ildi closed her eyes and whispered to herself the last few words: "Mountain Top Pictures. I'm so proud of you," she said.
He smiled. "Well, it's a big vote of confidence, I'll say."
"Our headquarters in Budapest," she said the words quietly. "It sounds lovely, doesn't it? Like a beautiful dream? Have you seen any of their pictures before?"
"A few," he said. "And they're proper ones, I can tell you. Stands to reason. Every year they get the best government contracts. The country wouldn't put money somewhere unless there were guaranteed results."
"What was their first picture you saw?" she said.
"My father took me to Budapest when I was thirteen. We saw Nation's Promise at the Rigalto."
"Rigalto," she said softly to herself, stretching out the word. "A nice theater?"
"The best," Janos said. "Beautiful seats, soft leather. Music before the screening. Popcorn. A news broadcast before the picture started. Everything proper." He nodded and put the letter back in the suitcase carefully. "They care about this country," he said. "They were the ones who financed Blazing Ambition last year. That one's making the rounds on the international festival circuit. Giving Hungary a good name."
She nodded and framed Janos in between her hands as though she was sizing him up for a camera shot. Then she dropped her arms and hugged herself, rocking back and forth in ecstasy. "Oh, sweetness," she said. "You do deserve this after all your hard work. To think of all those hours you spend filling page after page with scripts. Finally, it has paid off for you."
Janos smiled down at her. "It seems my time has come, dear."
"And then, just think," she said. "The next time we go back to our village we'll be riding on your waves of triumph. Everyone will know your name. And perhaps I'll be wearing a fur coat and a store-bought dress. Oh... I must stop these thoughts or I shan't be able to sleep tonight."
She returned to the window, where the villages and country roads continued to drift by outside. She closed her eyes and allowed the colors to flow together into a stream of imagination in her head.
After the train arrived in Budapest they asked directions to their hotel. It was on a dingy street corner in the eighth district surrounded by tenement buildings and weedy sidewalks. Ildi frowned as they walked into the dark lobby.
"Are you sure this is the right hotel?" she said.
Janos tapped the scratched bell at the front desk. "Must be," he said. "It's the right address anyway." A moment later a sullen clerk stepped out from the shadows of the back office and pushed a tattered guest book toward them. Janos signed his name and took the key.
"Fifth floor," the clerk said, jerking a thumb toward the staircase behind him. "Keep the noise down, won't you?" Before they could answer he retreated to the office.
"Hmm, not too friendly," Janos said. "No matter." He hefted the suitcase and took Ildi's hand. The staircase was narrow and lit by single naked bulbs dangling listlessly on each landing. By the time they reached the fifth floor they were both out of breath.
The door to their room creaked as Janos opened it. He put the suitcase down and Ildi peeped around him to look inside. There was a single bed with brown coverings that sagged in the middle and looked somehow damp. A bare window with no curtain revealed the tenement building across the street. The room smelled of mothballs and mildew. The walls were close and the air still and lifeless. She stepped inside and took off her coat. There was no coat hook, so she folded it across the suitcase.
"Well," Janos said, apologetically. "Don't worry. We won't be here that much. And it's just a place to gather our thoughts. One night here and then tomorrow I sign the papers."
Ildi nodded.
"Hungry?" Janos said. Ildi wasn't, but she nodded again. After Janos locked the door, they made their way back down the stairs. The hotel clerk was not at his post. They walked out onto the sidewalk. The street was darker than when they arrived. The buildings seem to tower over them on both sides, dwarfing them.
"What's wrong, dear?" said Janos.
She was looking back at the hotel. A sudden chill came over her. The entrance was draped in shadow as the sun set low in the sky. "Nothing," she said. "I just came over all queer. I suppose I thought the city would feel different."
"Different how?"
"I don't know," she said. "Perhaps I thought it would feel like it was waiting for us gladly. This has rather felt like a bad welcoming."
"You just need some food," Janos said. "Let's find some place."
They walked around the corner and saw a small restaurant on the next block. It was deserted except for two old men drinking at the bar. A stooped woman came to their table to take their order, a cigarette drooping from her mouth. Janos ordered a regular meal, but Ildi shook her head at the menu.
"You must eat," Janos said.
"I'm not that hungry. I'll just have some bread here." She reached for the basket of bread on the table.
"For customers only," the stooped woman said, taking the basket and stuffing it under her arm.
"Well, what do you call me?" Janos said. "I say, put it back, please."
The woman eyed him for a moment and then fished out a piece of bread from the basket and tossed it down before Ildi.
When Janos asked if she wanted any wine, she shook her head.
"Better not," she said. "After all, we don't have the papers yet."
He waved his hand at her. "Don't worry about that, dear. I told you. It's all arranged."
"Perhaps tomorrow then," she said. "Let's just wait until you have the papers signed. There's something about this place I don't like, anyway. I'd rather not stay too long."
Janos smiled at her. "I imagine you're tired after the trip. You'll feel better in the morning. Now, let's imagine a bit. The company will set a date for us to move to Budapest. I can't be working from the countryside. Stands to reason they'll put us up in a place somewhere in the hills on the other side of the city. That's where all the celebrities live. So, what would you like to do once we live here?"
Ildi thought a moment. "I suppose I would like to find a little church. Somewhere where the people all know each other. Some place with a small choir where I could join in the singing. Do you suppose they have places like that here in the city?"
"Of course," Janos nodded. "Just because it's a busy city doesn't mean people have forgotten about what really matters. There'll be plenty of churches, probably one on every street corner. You can sing in them all if you like."
Ildi blushed and smiled deeply. Janos touched her nose again with his finger. Janos's food arrived. While he ate Ildi sat silently. The stooped woman stood behind the bar and stared at them. Ildi was glad to leave the restaurant and be back on the street. The night air felt chill against her skin. They walked back to the hotel.
As Janos snored beside her in bed, Ildi looked out the bare window at the night sky. The was cloudy and she could see no moon or stars. Their village seemed thousands of miles away from the dark streets below.
She heard a loud thump on the floor above them. Someone began to argue. She couldn't make out the words, but the sound frightened her a bit. She got out of the bed and walked to the window to look out at the dark street below. It felt like looking down into the black water of a river. She could make out no shapes in the darkness. A memory of her childhood came to her: her mother sitting at a piano and playing a folk song from years ago when Ildi was still in kindergarten.
Silently she sang the melody to herself.
When Ildi opened her eyes the next morning Janos was already dressed.
"Sorry, dear," he said. "I hope I didn't wake you, but I needed to get started. My meeting at the picture headquarters is in an hour."
She rubbed her eyes and reached for her dress on the chair next to the bed.
"No need for you to come, dear," Janos said. "It will be dull for you sitting in the lobby. I'll be back in no time with the signed papers and then we can take in the city a bit. What do you say?"
She smiled and nodded. Janos kissed her nose and after straightening his collar in the small mirror on the wall he lifted his briefcase and was gone out the door.
"Good luck, darling," she called after him. She heard his footsteps fade down the hall. She slowly sat up in bed. The sky was cloudy and seemed to promise rain. She walked to the window. Down in the street she saw a few carts passing one another. A moment later she saw Janos exit the hotel and start up the street toward the square. She held up her hands again like she was framing a film shot and followed him until he disappeared around the corner into the next street.
She pulled on her clothes and, after locking the room, she walked down the stairs to the lobby. The sullen man from yesterday was sitting behind the desk. Ildi smiled, but he didn't return it. She stepped quickly out onto the street. She felt the buildings tower above her. The first few drops of rain began to spatter the street. Ildi walked quickly, not wanting to return to the hotel but not wanting to get wet. She stayed close to the buildings, hoping the rain would miss her. She turned a few corners aimlessly and then saw a church before her. The entry was dark but open. She hurried inside.
There was a crack of thunder from outside, and Ildi stepped in farther to get away from the splashes of rain that were now falling steadily on the steps outside the church. She turned and looked around her. The pews were empty. She saw a priest standing at the front of the sanctuary, tending to some books that were stacked against the wall. Ildi wasn't sure what she should do. She slowly walked forward. The church had stained glass windows that must have been beautiful to see in the daylight, but the flashes of lightning outside lit the church in bursts of white and blue and the shadows danced around her, making her feel frightened and confused.
The priest looked up and noticed her. He hurried over.
"I'm so sorry," Ildi said. "The door was open and I didn't want to get wet outside."
The priest nodded, his face solemn and grave. "Nasty weather right now," he said. "But it will be over soon and then it will be hot for the rest of the day."
"Will it?"
"Happens a lot in the summer," he said. "A quick storm and then still air and a humid damp feeling. Makes it difficult to think."
"I see," Ildi said. "I'm not from the city. Actually, this is my first time here."
The priest's eyes went up. "And what has brought you?"
Ildi told him about Janos and the script consultation. The priest's face was still, but she could tell from his eyes that he was listening intently.
When she finished, he said, "I wouldn't hope for much."
"What do you mean?" she said.
"I've heard stories about such things," he replied. "Stories promising young people hopes and opportunities. But believe me, this city is full of those who would gladly take your dreams and dash them. If you take my advice, you'll leave and go back to your village."
Ildi stood still, her ears ringing from the priest's words. He nodded to her and turned back to his books. She turned and walked to the entrance. By now the storm was dying out. The flashes of lightning had moved off and the rain was only spattering. The storm left behind a blanket of hot air that seemed to settle onto the streets outside with a thick humidity.
For the rest of the morning Ildi wandered up and down a few side streets, but she couldn't stop thinking of the priest and his words. True to his words, the day had turned fiercely warm and damp. It was difficult to breathe, so Ildi returned to the hotel. She sat on the bed fanning herself.
Just after three she heard Janos' step outside. She sat up as he opened the door, but her face fell when she saw his eyes.
"What happened, darling?" she said.
He didn't answer, but put down his briefcase and walked to the window. After staring out for a moment he turned back toward her.
"There's been a misunderstanding," he said. "Wasn't going to be a job anyway. It turns out it's some ploy they do. They put out these letters into the countryside hoping to get a pull. They weren't offering me anything. In fact, they asked for money for me to take a scriptwriting class from them." He sat down on the bed and it gave a loud creak. Dust rose into the air around him.
"What did you say?"
"I told them where they could go with their offer and right quick." He shook his head and laughed with no real feeling. "They were happy to see me leave." He looked up at the ceiling. "Dreadfully hot in here, isn't it."
Ildi stood and felt the sweat sticking her dress to the back of her legs. She felt strangely weak. The images of the train ride flooded through her mind. But now, instead of seeing images of delight the flowing scenes of the fast-passing world seemed to hold pockets of darkness and shadow.
"Dreadfully hot in here, isn't it," Janos said.
"Yes," she whispered, almost to herself. "It would be."
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| Image generated with OpenAI |
She took a deep breath, sat back in her seat with a dizzy smile and clasped Janos's hand to her chest. She gave his cheek a small kiss and looked up at their suitcase in the overhead rack.
"Darling?" Ildi said. "Could you read the letter again?
"Of course, dear," he smiled and touched the end of her nose with his finger as he stood up. He lifted the suitcase down and after a moment's searching pulled out the folded white letter. He carefully unfolded it while balancing himself against the rocking of the train. He cleared his throat and read, "Dearest sir, we were supremely impressed with your script and are pleased to offer you a meeting with our leadership team at your earliest convenience. At Mountain Top Pictures, we believe in presenting the finest perspectives on modern life through the lens of the camera. It is clear from your work that you believe in what we believe. If convenient for you, please meet us at our headquarters in Budapest. Sincerely, Peter Toth, President of Mountain Top Pictures."
Ildi closed her eyes and whispered to herself the last few words: "Mountain Top Pictures. I'm so proud of you," she said.
He smiled. "Well, it's a big vote of confidence, I'll say."
"Our headquarters in Budapest," she said the words quietly. "It sounds lovely, doesn't it? Like a beautiful dream? Have you seen any of their pictures before?"
"A few," he said. "And they're proper ones, I can tell you. Stands to reason. Every year they get the best government contracts. The country wouldn't put money somewhere unless there were guaranteed results."
"What was their first picture you saw?" she said.
"My father took me to Budapest when I was thirteen. We saw Nation's Promise at the Rigalto."
"Rigalto," she said softly to herself, stretching out the word. "A nice theater?"
"The best," Janos said. "Beautiful seats, soft leather. Music before the screening. Popcorn. A news broadcast before the picture started. Everything proper." He nodded and put the letter back in the suitcase carefully. "They care about this country," he said. "They were the ones who financed Blazing Ambition last year. That one's making the rounds on the international festival circuit. Giving Hungary a good name."
She nodded and framed Janos in between her hands as though she was sizing him up for a camera shot. Then she dropped her arms and hugged herself, rocking back and forth in ecstasy. "Oh, sweetness," she said. "You do deserve this after all your hard work. To think of all those hours you spend filling page after page with scripts. Finally, it has paid off for you."
Janos smiled down at her. "It seems my time has come, dear."
"And then, just think," she said. "The next time we go back to our village we'll be riding on your waves of triumph. Everyone will know your name. And perhaps I'll be wearing a fur coat and a store-bought dress. Oh... I must stop these thoughts or I shan't be able to sleep tonight."
She returned to the window, where the villages and country roads continued to drift by outside. She closed her eyes and allowed the colors to flow together into a stream of imagination in her head.
After the train arrived in Budapest they asked directions to their hotel. It was on a dingy street corner in the eighth district surrounded by tenement buildings and weedy sidewalks. Ildi frowned as they walked into the dark lobby.
"Are you sure this is the right hotel?" she said.
Janos tapped the scratched bell at the front desk. "Must be," he said. "It's the right address anyway." A moment later a sullen clerk stepped out from the shadows of the back office and pushed a tattered guest book toward them. Janos signed his name and took the key.
"Fifth floor," the clerk said, jerking a thumb toward the staircase behind him. "Keep the noise down, won't you?" Before they could answer he retreated to the office.
"Hmm, not too friendly," Janos said. "No matter." He hefted the suitcase and took Ildi's hand. The staircase was narrow and lit by single naked bulbs dangling listlessly on each landing. By the time they reached the fifth floor they were both out of breath.
The door to their room creaked as Janos opened it. He put the suitcase down and Ildi peeped around him to look inside. There was a single bed with brown coverings that sagged in the middle and looked somehow damp. A bare window with no curtain revealed the tenement building across the street. The room smelled of mothballs and mildew. The walls were close and the air still and lifeless. She stepped inside and took off her coat. There was no coat hook, so she folded it across the suitcase.
"Well," Janos said, apologetically. "Don't worry. We won't be here that much. And it's just a place to gather our thoughts. One night here and then tomorrow I sign the papers."
Ildi nodded.
"Hungry?" Janos said. Ildi wasn't, but she nodded again. After Janos locked the door, they made their way back down the stairs. The hotel clerk was not at his post. They walked out onto the sidewalk. The street was darker than when they arrived. The buildings seem to tower over them on both sides, dwarfing them.
"What's wrong, dear?" said Janos.
She was looking back at the hotel. A sudden chill came over her. The entrance was draped in shadow as the sun set low in the sky. "Nothing," she said. "I just came over all queer. I suppose I thought the city would feel different."
"Different how?"
"I don't know," she said. "Perhaps I thought it would feel like it was waiting for us gladly. This has rather felt like a bad welcoming."
"You just need some food," Janos said. "Let's find some place."
They walked around the corner and saw a small restaurant on the next block. It was deserted except for two old men drinking at the bar. A stooped woman came to their table to take their order, a cigarette drooping from her mouth. Janos ordered a regular meal, but Ildi shook her head at the menu.
"You must eat," Janos said.
"I'm not that hungry. I'll just have some bread here." She reached for the basket of bread on the table.
"For customers only," the stooped woman said, taking the basket and stuffing it under her arm.
"Well, what do you call me?" Janos said. "I say, put it back, please."
The woman eyed him for a moment and then fished out a piece of bread from the basket and tossed it down before Ildi.
When Janos asked if she wanted any wine, she shook her head.
"Better not," she said. "After all, we don't have the papers yet."
He waved his hand at her. "Don't worry about that, dear. I told you. It's all arranged."
"Perhaps tomorrow then," she said. "Let's just wait until you have the papers signed. There's something about this place I don't like, anyway. I'd rather not stay too long."
Janos smiled at her. "I imagine you're tired after the trip. You'll feel better in the morning. Now, let's imagine a bit. The company will set a date for us to move to Budapest. I can't be working from the countryside. Stands to reason they'll put us up in a place somewhere in the hills on the other side of the city. That's where all the celebrities live. So, what would you like to do once we live here?"
Ildi thought a moment. "I suppose I would like to find a little church. Somewhere where the people all know each other. Some place with a small choir where I could join in the singing. Do you suppose they have places like that here in the city?"
"Of course," Janos nodded. "Just because it's a busy city doesn't mean people have forgotten about what really matters. There'll be plenty of churches, probably one on every street corner. You can sing in them all if you like."
Ildi blushed and smiled deeply. Janos touched her nose again with his finger. Janos's food arrived. While he ate Ildi sat silently. The stooped woman stood behind the bar and stared at them. Ildi was glad to leave the restaurant and be back on the street. The night air felt chill against her skin. They walked back to the hotel.
As Janos snored beside her in bed, Ildi looked out the bare window at the night sky. The was cloudy and she could see no moon or stars. Their village seemed thousands of miles away from the dark streets below.
She heard a loud thump on the floor above them. Someone began to argue. She couldn't make out the words, but the sound frightened her a bit. She got out of the bed and walked to the window to look out at the dark street below. It felt like looking down into the black water of a river. She could make out no shapes in the darkness. A memory of her childhood came to her: her mother sitting at a piano and playing a folk song from years ago when Ildi was still in kindergarten.
Silently she sang the melody to herself.
I look back on my life,
They appear... each dream I had
And one by one
The autumn winds pull them away
When Ildi opened her eyes the next morning Janos was already dressed.
"Sorry, dear," he said. "I hope I didn't wake you, but I needed to get started. My meeting at the picture headquarters is in an hour."
She rubbed her eyes and reached for her dress on the chair next to the bed.
"No need for you to come, dear," Janos said. "It will be dull for you sitting in the lobby. I'll be back in no time with the signed papers and then we can take in the city a bit. What do you say?"
She smiled and nodded. Janos kissed her nose and after straightening his collar in the small mirror on the wall he lifted his briefcase and was gone out the door.
"Good luck, darling," she called after him. She heard his footsteps fade down the hall. She slowly sat up in bed. The sky was cloudy and seemed to promise rain. She walked to the window. Down in the street she saw a few carts passing one another. A moment later she saw Janos exit the hotel and start up the street toward the square. She held up her hands again like she was framing a film shot and followed him until he disappeared around the corner into the next street.
She pulled on her clothes and, after locking the room, she walked down the stairs to the lobby. The sullen man from yesterday was sitting behind the desk. Ildi smiled, but he didn't return it. She stepped quickly out onto the street. She felt the buildings tower above her. The first few drops of rain began to spatter the street. Ildi walked quickly, not wanting to return to the hotel but not wanting to get wet. She stayed close to the buildings, hoping the rain would miss her. She turned a few corners aimlessly and then saw a church before her. The entry was dark but open. She hurried inside.
There was a crack of thunder from outside, and Ildi stepped in farther to get away from the splashes of rain that were now falling steadily on the steps outside the church. She turned and looked around her. The pews were empty. She saw a priest standing at the front of the sanctuary, tending to some books that were stacked against the wall. Ildi wasn't sure what she should do. She slowly walked forward. The church had stained glass windows that must have been beautiful to see in the daylight, but the flashes of lightning outside lit the church in bursts of white and blue and the shadows danced around her, making her feel frightened and confused.
The priest looked up and noticed her. He hurried over.
"I'm so sorry," Ildi said. "The door was open and I didn't want to get wet outside."
The priest nodded, his face solemn and grave. "Nasty weather right now," he said. "But it will be over soon and then it will be hot for the rest of the day."
"Will it?"
"Happens a lot in the summer," he said. "A quick storm and then still air and a humid damp feeling. Makes it difficult to think."
"I see," Ildi said. "I'm not from the city. Actually, this is my first time here."
The priest's eyes went up. "And what has brought you?"
Ildi told him about Janos and the script consultation. The priest's face was still, but she could tell from his eyes that he was listening intently.
When she finished, he said, "I wouldn't hope for much."
"What do you mean?" she said.
"I've heard stories about such things," he replied. "Stories promising young people hopes and opportunities. But believe me, this city is full of those who would gladly take your dreams and dash them. If you take my advice, you'll leave and go back to your village."
Ildi stood still, her ears ringing from the priest's words. He nodded to her and turned back to his books. She turned and walked to the entrance. By now the storm was dying out. The flashes of lightning had moved off and the rain was only spattering. The storm left behind a blanket of hot air that seemed to settle onto the streets outside with a thick humidity.
For the rest of the morning Ildi wandered up and down a few side streets, but she couldn't stop thinking of the priest and his words. True to his words, the day had turned fiercely warm and damp. It was difficult to breathe, so Ildi returned to the hotel. She sat on the bed fanning herself.
Just after three she heard Janos' step outside. She sat up as he opened the door, but her face fell when she saw his eyes.
"What happened, darling?" she said.
He didn't answer, but put down his briefcase and walked to the window. After staring out for a moment he turned back toward her.
"There's been a misunderstanding," he said. "Wasn't going to be a job anyway. It turns out it's some ploy they do. They put out these letters into the countryside hoping to get a pull. They weren't offering me anything. In fact, they asked for money for me to take a scriptwriting class from them." He sat down on the bed and it gave a loud creak. Dust rose into the air around him.
"What did you say?"
"I told them where they could go with their offer and right quick." He shook his head and laughed with no real feeling. "They were happy to see me leave." He looked up at the ceiling. "Dreadfully hot in here, isn't it."
Ildi stood and felt the sweat sticking her dress to the back of her legs. She felt strangely weak. The images of the train ride flooded through her mind. But now, instead of seeing images of delight the flowing scenes of the fast-passing world seemed to hold pockets of darkness and shadow.
"Dreadfully hot in here, isn't it," Janos said.
"Yes," she whispered, almost to herself. "It would be."
Zary’s short prose has one overriding literary element which just shines through relentlessly: mood! From the dour hotel clerk to the cross waitress to the grim priest, a dark, benighted mood overwhelms the story. Janos’s naivete is in due time crushed by a publisher who morphs into a purveyor of self-help classes and one has to chuckle: isn’t that what we, as writers, confront almost daily? Very high quality writing; one can almost feel the sweat trickle down our respective backs in the hot sun of the city. Excellent job, Zary!
ReplyDeleteAgree - partcularly about vanity press and worthless classes.
DeleteOhhhhhhh. So despicable. I’ve seen it myself. But for this young couple, it was cruel. Ohhhhh. So angry for them. And Bill, I thoroughly agree with you about the masterful use of mood!
ReplyDeleteI'm frequently confused. Story stared off as regular scam piece (writer's know about vanity press, pay to play, and I'll make you a star). Later it seemed to be a horror story.
ReplyDeleteOh dear, we have all been here at some time. A tight story. Well done, Zary!
ReplyDelete