After Simon

Izzy Zaller has written a spin-off story that follows the fate and thoughts of a character from the film The Vulture (1982) by Ferenc András years after the events depicted in the film.

“Cecilia?”

The voice sounds as though it’s coming from far away, as though I’m dreaming and someone is trying to break through my slumber. As though Gabor knows that I’m not here, really, but with him, and is trying to pull me back.

“Cecilia, dear?”

A little closer. And more insistent.

“Cecilia, are you quite alright?”

A firm touch on the arm brings me back to the present. Away from the farmhouse, away from the explosion, away from the past.

I look around. Gabor is looking at me, a slightly annoyed look on his face. The rest of the party looks on with interest.

“Of course, darling.” I flash a small smile. My little laugh rings hollow in my ears, but I’m the only one who seems to notice. I’m a very good actress. I learned from my mother. “You know me, always with my head in the clouds.”

Our guests accept my excuse and conversation resumes. I am drawn back into discussion with the small circle around me. A debate is playing out. Something about politics. I pay just enough attention to be able to support Gabor’s position and to make some small contributions, all in his favor, of course.

I allow my eyes to wander over the crowd of people. They are a fashionable bunch, that much is certain. The elite of Budapest are richly dressed tonight, eager to impress each other. Looking at the wealth displayed around me, I feel a bit sick. How many tens of thousands of forints are on display here, drawn from the pockets of the masses with invisible hands? Politics, I’ve decided, is not so different from my mother’s trade. A con by a different name.

Later, I know, Gabor will speak to me about my lapse. As a prominent member of Budapest society, he is obsessed with his image, and God forbid any rumors begin to spread of marital discord.

That’s what first attracted me to Gabor – his perfection. From a good family, he has money, and he got it the right way. The honest way, or as honest as it can be in this world.

Sometimes I think I was wrong to marry him. But he was there when I had nothing. After everything that happened, after the revelations about my mother, the money, all of it, I needed safety, security. And he provided it. And where would I be without him?

He doesn’t know the whole story of what happened. But he knows there was someone else, before him. Someone Gabor exclusively refers to as him.

It’s not fair of me to speak this way of Gabor, of course. He is everything I used to want. Before I felt something real. Before him. Before Simon.

As strange as it is, I’ve never wished I never met Simon. I want to blame him for ruining my family, but I can’t. The fault of that lies with my mother. I want to blame him for the overwhelmingly claustrophobic feeling I now must endure, but I can’t. I can’t blame him for opening my eyes to the life I lead. I can’t blame him for showing me the worth of 10,000 forints.

I even want to blame him for my inability to love Gabor. But I can’t. Because the fault of that is entirely with me. Somehow, I allowed that damned taxi driver to overwhelm my senses, tear down my defenses, and walk right into my heart.

The only thing I can blame Simon for is my loneliness. Because he showed me the truth, and he showed me an inexplicable connection, and then he went off and killed himself. He’s the man I never had and now can never have.

I feel a slight pressure on my hand. Taking the cue from Gabor, I change the topic of conversation before it can veer off into dangerous territory. He gives my hand another squeeze to let me know I’ve done well, and I know he has forgiven me my daydream.

We really do make a fantastic team. I mourn for what we could have had, if I had never met Simon. I really think the girl I was would have loved Gabor. But she died with Simon.

Sometimes I think Simon had it right. He’s gone, but I can’t help thinking that he is more free now than I will ever be.

by Izzy Zaller