Outcasts (39 page)

Tibor enjoyed the fact that he was a citizen of such a young country. Other than native Indian tribes, it was a country full of citizens making a new beginning. Expo 67 was created to celebrate Canada's centenary. The world's fair was an engineering marvel - built in record time, an unbelievable three years. The world seemed to be enamoured with Canada's newness. The country's bold new enterprise, Expo 67, attracted millions from around the globe.

Tibor had brought along a few letters in his satchel - letters he had written to Hedy while in Argentina, but had never sent. The letter eased the pain of his then-suffering heart. Tibor wasn't sure why he brought them along - surely he would never show them to Hedy.

Tibor had eventually found out from Bandi, living in Tel Aviv, that Hedy had married a man called Emil Hosek. He was devastated when he found out about the marriage and it took many years to get over the pain. He rehearsed in his own mind what he would not say to Hedy when they met. There would be no recriminations. He would not ask why she didn't attempt to contact him after the war ended or why she married Emil so hastily.

Bandi wrote Tibor a letter in which he told of Hedy's life in Canada, her daughter, and the death of her husband from cancer. Tibor wrote to Bandi, asking if it would be possible for him to contact Hedy. Bandi suggested he write to her directly, and gave him Hedy's address. He debated with himself for days before taking pen to paper and writing a few lines. To his great astonishment, she replied, and sounded interested in seeing him as well. Tibor was overjoyed when she invited him to Montreal for a visit.

How differently their lives would have turned out if ...

He blocked out the thoughts almost as quickly as they came to him. No recriminations, no speculating about the past, no could-haves, would-haves, should-haves.

Tibor was forty-seven years old and still in good physical condition. The years immediately following the end of the war had been the most difficult. He had lived in Hungary, Austria, and Paris, France. He had felt in his heart that Hedy was alive and also living somewhere in Europe, yet he had no means of contacting her. Then it dawned on him that she didn't want to contact him and that realization was more hurtful than anything. Then Tibor also learned the depth of the tragedy of what had happened to her, and to her entire family. With that knowledge came a deep understanding and acceptance of whatever she decided. He respected and loved her too much not to abide by her wishes.

The love became muted and was pushed to the back of his mind, into the distant corners of his heart. He wanted to emigrate to one of the furthest corners of the globe, hoping that the thousands of kilometres would eventually fade the memories and dull the pain. To further distract himself, he even had brief affairs with several stunning Argentinian women. But all his efforts to obliterate the memory of the one great love of his life seemed to only succeed in numbing the pain, and he was never able to forget about it completely.

Tibor began munching on a chocolate bar and thought about those difficult years in Argentina, where he experienced the most brutal working conditions of his life. They worked in the jungle building a hydroelectric dam near Iguazu. No shoes, boots, or materials existed that could keep their feet dry. The athlete's foot fungus, or "jungle rot," as they called it, seemed to eat through each layer of skin. The heat of summer was consistently oppressive: forty degrees Celsius in the shade. The workers couldn't eat or drink water fast enough - the environment sucked the energy and liquid out of them as quickly as they ingested it. Tibor lost many of his teeth.

If one could tolerate the endless days of living in the jungle heat and bone-numbing isolation, the pay in the end was well worth it. After Tibor settled, he sponsored his mother, sister, Picke, and brother-in-law, Erno, to join him in Argentina. Picke and Erno were expecting their first-born. They all lived in Buenos Aires and when Tibor could get out of the rainforest to the city on leave, they were together as a family. These occasions helped alleviate the never-ending feeling of loneliness that gnawed away at his soul.

Bela had been granted immigrant status in Canada, on the opposite end of the hemisphere.

After several years of back-breaking work as a farm labourer, Bela established himself as a tobacco farmer near a place called Delhi in Ontario. After he bought his first house, he sponsored the family and they all came to Canada. Tibor was fortunate to find work in Toronto and met his wife, Eva, a divorcee with a young son. Eva was a vivacious woman with a voluptuous figure and legs that were seemingly endless.

Tibor and Eva were married in 1954. What a day full of promise and expectations! Their daughter, Judy, was born two years later.

On the train, Tibor thought about what a tremendous amount of joy Judy had brought into his life. An inquisitive and sensitive child, Judy had lovely brown eyes and a heartwarming smile. Tibor and Eva learned early in their marriage that if there was a misunderstanding between them, they could never argue in front of Judy. The dear, sweet child would burst into tears at the slightest argument. Tibor thought of his daughter as a gentle soul who needed tender nurturing.

When they were first married, Eva woke night after night to his nightmares. He was yelling at ghosts, screaming, waking up drenched in sweat. Once he was awake, he refused to talk about the images haunting him. Tibor knew he had lingering nightmares from the war, but didn't realize until he was married how frequently they still dominated his dreams. After Judy was born, they agreed to sleep in separate bedrooms. Eventually, they drifted apart. Tibor became completely absorbed with his work as an engineer. Even after he came home from his day job, he retired to the basement after dinner, where he set up a workshop for carpentry projects. Lately, he had begun to work in creating decorative lamps and plant holders out of wrought iron. It calmed him to create objects with his hands. He concentrated on staying busy and focused.

The couple lived disparate lives under one roof, and maintained the guise of marriage for the sake of their much-loved daughter.

The trip passed relatively quickly, thanks to the constant activity of the high-school band. It was entertaining to listen to them teasing each other, telling jokes, and sharing lunches. Tibor concentrated on not closing his eyes; that's when all the loving images of Hedy came drifting back to his mind. How things could have been, should have been ... indeed.

When the train arrived in Montreal, he managed to find rue Wilderton, number 6280, easily enough. It was strange to observe the different building styles in this city - the stairways to the upstairs apartments were outside the two-storey structures. Tibor had never seen anything like that anywhere else in the world.

He stood outside the building where she lived for a while just watching, observing the sounds and sights of the street. It was summertime and the tree-lined thoroughfare was crowded with a group of children playing ball. One line of a poem by Petofi ran through his head - it was one that they had often recited to each other, especially the last line: "and I clung to her lips silently, like fruit on a tree."

The poem was about a young man on a train, pondering about what his first words would be to his mother, who he hadn't seen for years. At the end of the poem, all the rehearsed opening sentences went out the window as he flew to her arms.

Finally, Tibor gathered his courage, walked up to the front door, and knocked gently.

After a few seconds, Hedy opened the door.

They stood silently watching each other for a few seconds. Tibor looked into her eyes - they were as captivating as ever. Neither said a word. There in the doorway, he put out his arms and they melted into each other's embrace.

"Oh, Tibor," he heard her say over and over.

"My lovely Hedy," he whispered. They stood there, locked in each others arms for what must have seemed to the nosy neighbours a very long time.

Hedy was the first to pull back after the long embrace. She turned away to wipe the tears from her face.

"Let me make you some tea," she said. "You must be parched from the long train ride."

Tibor nodded, still choked up with emotion. With that she went into the kitchen.

Tibor collected himself, and wiped his tears with a handkerchief while she put the kettle on to boil. He looked around - the apartment was small and sparsely furnished, with lots of bookcases filled with books. One chaise-longue chair stood in the corner of the room, with a beige-coloured two-seater couch and Swedish style teak coffee table in the centre. He noticed a framed picture of Hedy and what must have been her little girl as a toddler.

Hedy came back with a pot of tea, two cups and saucers, and a plate of almond cookies. She began to set the dishes out on the coffee table in front of them. Noticing that Tibor had been looking at the picture she said, "Her name is Chaviva, now twenty years old. A real blessing in my life."

"I know how wonderful daughters are. I have one as well," Tibor replied. "Her name is Judy - she's ten."

Hedy began to pour the tea. They sat quietly and talked about the joys of children.

Tibor realized there was little they had to explain to each other despite the years of separation. They didn't owe each other explanations or apologies. Life simply happened. They were separated by disastrous historical events and had to continue on with their lives. Tibor would probably never find out what made her marry someone else following the end of the war, but what would it matter today if she did divulge what went through her head and heart in those days, months, and years following the war? How could he now even begin to comprehend what she had been through?

But there were some things Tibor wanted to tell her; things he had to say.

"Hedy, I wanted to tell you about ...," he began, then stopped. A key turned in the door, the door opened, and a confident young woman walked in.

"Hello, my darling," Hedy said.

The young woman smiled and gave her mother a kiss and a hug, then looked at Tibor.

"Do you know who this is, love?" Hedy asked.

The young girl looked at her mother's smile, then at the man sitting on their couch, and replied, "This must be Tibor!"

The two of them smiled at each other, then at Tibor. She leaned over, shook his hand, gave him a kiss on the cheek, and said, "Hello, my name is Chaviva."

He was amazed. Chaviva had her mother's big round eyes and thick hair.

"But how did she know? She's never seen me," he queried.

"You know, a mother and daughter share many wonderful secrets," Hedy said, smiling.

They exchanged stories about their new lives in Canada, how interesting it was that they had both ended up here. They reminisced about growing up in Nagyszollos and laughed about the stories of the humorous characters of the town. Tibor asked about Suti and Aliz, Hedy inquired about Bela and Picke. At suppertime, they walked down the street to an Italian pizzeria. The place had a homey, neighbourhood atmosphere to it with checkered tablecloths and candles on each table. Frank Sinatra's "September of My Years" was playing on the record player. Tibor, Hedy, and Chaviva ordered pasta. Tibor sat across from Hedy and kept glancing at her, amazed at how she hadn't changed a bit. They shared a half litre of wine.

Tibor and Hedy ordered espresso, all of them had Italian ice cream - spumoni for dessert. Chaviva regaled them with stories of her school friends. It was obvious that she had inherited her mother's intelligence and quick wit. When they returned, they sat on the wrought-iron steps watching the children play in the streets. The evening was still pleasant, and dusk was long in its shadows. Hedy's face had a special glow in this light. They sat, side by side, arms intertwined. Chaviva was chatting with two friends who had come by to visit.

"You know, Hedy," Tibor whispered, "there is the saying: ‘all is not lost that is delayed.'"

Hedy looked at him with a dreamy smile.

"It's been such a wonderful day."

Tibor stared at her eyes and continued with a very steady voice. "It would just take one word from you my dearest Hedy ... I would be here in a second."

A single tear inadvertently rolled down her cheek.

Tibor grabbed his handkerchief and tenderly wiped the tear.

He took her hand, kissed it, and held it for a very long time.

She never answered.

epilogue

T
IBOR
S
CHROEDER PASSED AWAY
in January 1982 in Toronto at the age of sixty-three from cancer. He was married twice in Canada. His only daughter, Judy, converted and married a Jewish man, Martin Chasson, in 1997.

Hedy Weisz lives in New York City. After her husband, Emil Hosek, passed away in 1966, she decided that she didn't want to marry again. Friends persisted, trying to arrange dates for her. It was only after friends informed her that they had set up a special date with a man called Tibor that she agreed to meet the man. She married Tibor Pivko in 1977.

Hedy's daughter is Chaviva Hosek, who at the time of the publication of this book is the president of the Canadian Institute for Advanced Research. During the prime ministership of Jean Chretien, she headed the Office of Research for the Canadian government. Chaviva married a Christian man - Alan Pearson - in 1979.

Bela Aykler built a real estate firm in Toronto, specializing in residential development and property management. He still works with his two sons and grandsons in running the business. In 1988 he married his second wife, Susan. Together, in 1994, they initiated the Students Without Boundaries program, which brings together 135 students who live in minority status in east-central Europe with students from Canada. In 2008, the program celebrated its fifteenth year - over two thousand students from five different countries, including Canada, have taken part.

Yitzhak Livnat, together with his brother, Bandi, built a successful transportation, shipping, and logistics business. His sons have branched out to run their own enterprises. Today, he spends his time travelling the world with his wife, Ilana, scouring archives, gathering the pieces of his family's lost past.