Rosh Hashana 1989 - Part One

by Nicole Waldner

“Why did you put Gábor next to me?” Claire whispered to her big sister Hannah.
“Well he has to sit somewhere.”
“Why don’t you sit next to him?”
“Me? Oh no, that’s not possible. I’ve got Daniel on one side and his brother on the other and they both have crushes on me. It just wouldn’t be fair to sit them anywhere else.”
Claire rolled her eyes. She still thought boys were disgusting. “What about Mum?”
“Mum? Let’s see. Nope. She’s got her two aunts from the Monte who are both deaf as doorposts and can only read lips in Hungarian.”
“Dad? He’s Dad’s cousin after all.”
“True, but that makes him your cousin too.”
“But Dad invited him here to Australia, didn’t he?”
“Yes little one, true again. But Dad also invited two lawyers from work this year. Keep your friends close and your enemies even closer,” Hannah whispered dramatically.
“How come we never heard of Gábor till now?”
“Well, we really didn’t know much about him till the thaw.” Hannah delighted in the word, repeating it in a faux Hungarian accent. “Yes, the thaw. They found Gábor under some permafrost in a Transylvanian gulag last April.”
“Huh?”
“I think you’re being terribly unfair to poor uncle Gabi…” said Hannah, fluffing her bob in the dining room window.
“Is he really our uncle?”
“You know Dad has no family here except us. He must get lonely and long for his homeland.”
“What homeland?”
“Budapest. You do remember that Dad was ten years old when he came to Sydney?”
Claire’s fingers hovered over Gábor’s place card.
“Don’t even think of moving that!” Hannah cried imperiously. “God sees everything, especially on Rosh Hashana.”

Claire sighed and did as she was told. She stood behind her chair and watched the guests coming into the dining room and peering down at the little place cards. She winced. She hoped her calligraphy was legible. She watched Gábor crossing the room. He was the same age as her father but he looked older, shabbier somehow. He looked as if he never smiled. She flamed pink with shame. It was Rosh Hashana she reminded herself, it was a mitzvah to be welcoming, and family was family. He was beside her now. He looked at her for longer than she thought was polite, then he bowed and took his seat beside her at their family table.

After kiddush, once they’d gotten some gefilte fish under their belts, all of the adults started talking at once. To Claire’s relief everyone seemed to want to talk to Gábor.
“I hear the anti-Semitism over there is terrible!” said Eva, Claire’s mother.
“Mother’s milk to them,” Claire’s father Peter replied. There was all round agreement at the table on that.
“Gábor, you must be thrilled that Communism is finally on its knees,” Eva’s brother gushed.
“Rotten, bloody dictators,” said Eva’s sister, “who wouldn’t be?”
“Well, I’m happy I’ve lived to see the end of this disaster, I just hope what comes next won’t be worse.”
Half of the table laughed, the rest couldn’t tell if he was serious or not.
“But there will be democratic elections soon, won’t there?” said one of the lawyers.
“Elections yes. Democratic? Who knows?” 
“I hear there’s money to be made over there,” the other lawyer said leaning in.
“I only hear the sound of coats turning,” said Gábor, a ghost of a smile beneath his moustache.
Some nodded their heads in disgust, some wondered what he meant, Hannah snickered into her napkin. 
“Gábor is a Sociologist,” said Peter fussily, “he’s not a business man.”

Before they could ask him anything else, Gábor leaned over his plate and speared the gefilte fish. It was exquisite, made with fresh white fish, so tender, so sweet. And who was the luminary who came up with the beetroot and horseradish combination? Half a century of Communism was not nearly enough to extinguish the Ashkenazic passion for gefilte fish. The last time he’d eaten it fresh he was a boy. His mother had spent the entire day filleting the carp and still it had been filled with sinister little bones. He looked up at Eva and complimented her. Peter was sitting opposite her looking impatient. He hadn’t been able to get his question in. He cleared his throat importantly.
“Tell us Gábor, is it true that the secret service made everyone spy on their neighbours?” ◊

"Rosh Hashana 1989" - Part One will appear in TELL - The Magazine of Emanuel Synagogue, Sydney in October, 2017.