Concrete Statues [antikvár]

Chapter One 34 YearsBudapest. August 1990l Tamas was about to ask the flight attendant for another glass of water when he remembered that she had just fiiled the plastic cup on his tray. He took a tentative sip and decided he wasn't thirsty. His wife continued to calmly read her book. Reka would know the right words to soothe him, to put it all in perspective, but Tamas knew there was much about return-ing to Hungary that he would have to deal with on his own, in his own way.He wondered if this trip would be the fulfillment of what his brother had dreamed about, or more reminders of lost hope? |He didn't need any more reminders. There were of course Ipleasant memories of Hungary filéd away in his mind, and he had tried to concentrate on those over the years, but the pain-ful ones were too vivid and tended to overpower all other Irecollections of a home he had not seen for 34 years.Tamas reached over to hold Reka's hand as the plane be-gan the final approach to Budapest's Ferihegy Airport. It was ia traveling ritual they had kept over the past 34 years !together. Traditions and rituals were important to them. They !had learned new things in America, but they had fiercely pro-tected their Hungárián roots, especially the language. Their [three children spoke Hungárián every bit as well as they spoke English, but unlike other immigrants who had come to America Ito start a new life, Reka never let them forget that their mother tongue was Hungárián, with all the twists and turns and j inconsistencies that unique language of the Magyars had to offer. Tamas and Reka had learned English easily enough, but iwhen they spoke, the thick accent left little doubt as to their [origin and proudly so.The kids were all grown, with children of their own for the grandparents to fuss over and teach. Tamas thought back to the joy he saw on Reka's face the previous Easter as their iyoungest grandson knew to sprinkle perfumed water on his | grandmother's head in the old Hungárián tradition. Tamas had [ to admit, all things considered, they had built a good life in t America. So why was he retuming to dig up memories that