Read Upon the Head of the Goat for Free Online Page B

more.”
    â€œHow old is Mother?” I asked.
    â€œShe will be thirty-nine on her next birthday.”
    I started to think about what it would be like to take care of and play with a little sister, and began to get excited about going home to see her. But when Rozsi returned to Komjaty toward the end of July, I became uncertain again. Whenever Rozsi spoke to Babi about life in Beregszász, I listened very carefully for news of any changes. Babi asked many questions, and they spoke about political changes, but their main topic was the well-being of the family.
    When I told Rozsi about Ferenc’s visit, she listened with anticipation, her face flushed, anxious to hear every word. I felt bad having to tell her what he said. Stalling, I first told her about the message for Babi.
    â€œDid he have a message for me?”
    â€œHe was sorry that you were not here.”
    â€œDid he say when he would be coming again?”
    â€œRozsi, Ferenc is not going to come. He has been transferred.” She stood up abruptly and said, “It is for the best. I would not want another confrontation with Babi. And what is the use of it, anyway?”
    A heavy feeling had been pressing in my chest at the thought of leaving Komjaty. I would miss Babi, Rozsi, and Molcha, just as I missed Mother, Iboya, and my friends when I first came to Komjaty. But now I wasn’t so sure about Beregszász and the people there. I felt confused and decided to talk to Rozsi about it.
    â€œAs usual,” she said, “you have been listening to too many stories. A few days after you get home you’ll be in school and so busy that you’ll forget about all these things.”
    â€œNo, I’ll miss Komjaty a lot. You and Babi especially.”
    â€œSo next summer you’ll come back.”
    â€œWhat if by next summer…” I paused and then said, “Or perhaps Mother will decide to send us to America.”
    *   *   *
    The Sunday of my departure arrived before I had fully faced the fact of leaving Komjaty. Babi and Rozsi had filled baskets with dried mushrooms, prunes, lekvár, and jams. My clothes were packed in one large suitcase.
    â€œEat your breakfast,” Babi urged as she watched me dawdling over the piece of egg on my fork. “You will have to carry two heavy baskets.” My head ached, and my stomach was all mixed up.
    â€œI’ll just drink the milk, Babi.”
    Shaking her head from side to side, Babi offered a compromise. “You have to eat one egg, too.” I washed down the buttery egg with milk and picked up the box I had prepared to leave with Molcha.
    â€œGo, she is waiting in the road,” said Babi, opening the oak door to the porch. As soon as Molcha saw the door open, she ran up onto the porch. Babi closed the door and left us alone.
    â€œSo,” Molcha said, “I guess you will be leaving on the train.”
    â€œMaybe you can come to visit me in Beregszász sometime. Maybe next summer if I don’t come here.”
    â€œWhy wouldn’t you come here next summer?”
    â€œI don’t know.” I handed her the box containing paper, a pen, ink, and a blotter. “I’m leaving these things for you so you’ll be able to write to me and tell me everything that’s happening.”
    â€œLike what?” she questioned as she took the box.
    Rozsi opened the door. “We have to get started. Walking will be slow because we have so much to carry.”
    Molcha and I hugged, practically crushing the box between us. “ Szervusz, Piri, thank you for the things,” said Molcha. She rescued the box, turned quickly, and ran off the porch. When she stopped to wave, I saw that she was crying.
    â€œ Szervusz, Molcha,” I called. “I’ll write first.”
    I turned toward the house, hoping Rozsi would not see the tears in my eyes. Babi stood on the threshold of the kitchen, her arms open to embrace