Laws of Wolves

Life is nothing short of a treasure trove of unforeseen dues

Since the last meeting, air thinned up around me. I fight my hampered respiration and I find it harder and harder to make myself go in to work. My only comfort is that at home the situation improved a lot: Sophie is nowhere near as fiendish to me as she was. The big fights are gone, there's no yelling, and even though the old coziness didn't quite build back up yet, at least there are no lightnings anymore, and the beneficial effects are already visible on the kids. Even though our finances are not just not better but getting worse and worse. I still haven't gotten a cent from the TV. Sophie's check runs out around the twentieth of any given month. But bills and payment notices are coming constantly. Every weekend we put up a priority list. First is school, lunch, extracurricular classes. Then come the bills that if we don't pay, we get something turned off: electricity, gas, phone service. Then pay the mortgage. If we still have some money left, we go grocery shopping, if not, we eat whatever is in the freezer. Any other dues are postponed to unknown date. I now have a great experience in asking for late payment. When I was writing the first of these letters, I was sweating over it for hours, re- and re-wording it until I felt it to be appealing enough, but not too self-humiliating. Now I can toss one together in a few minutes. I don't have to twist my brains for too long until I can find an excuse, life is nothing short of a treasure trove of unforeseen dues. Brake pads into the car, parking violation, late fees, dentist, kids' shoes, repairing the washer.
No matter for the strict budget, at the end of the month we always have to touch the savings that are running out quickly. Maybe we have two months left... then bankruptcy. I promised Sophie that if we really need to, I will borrow from my parents. But I really don't want to see that moment, it would be so humiliating. Pumping the elders when you're an adult man, nothing but admitting you made nothing out of yourself. I made nothing out of myself? I don't want to ask myself the question. Not now. Because then I would have to take the final consequence: a nice little life insurance and a well-staged accident at the right moment... Christ, did I really get here? Before I get all teary-eyed (I imagine myself laying on the road as Sophie runs to me weeping just to be able to whisper in my ear that she has always loved me), the Kuruc blood screams loud in me (the channel is under Austrian ownership) and I decide to get myself into B.'s office and not come out until he signs my contract and transfers the money to my account.

Peter signed the previous entries as Complaints From An Unemployed. The following ones were signed as "Crisis Manager", like this, in quotation marks. He did what he promised to do and went in to the producer, but of that, some later. That's when Sophie called me again. She was very upset. No matter how I asked her, she said it's not a topic to be discussed over the phone. I tried to joke and ask if she seriously thinks that anyone cares what we are talking about, just the two of us, but she shut me up that it's bloody important now, it's about lives on stake. As a crime story writer, I obviously jumped on the topic, but it was a letdown. And not because Sophie was telling long tales with the lives on stake. So much not, that she never even wrote it to her diary, what she told me...

Push-me-out

I remember the happy years together and I get ashamed.

M. is starting to get on my nerves. She got totally settled in Peter's thoughts. I can't talk with my husband for two minutes without him mentioning her: M. wants it so, M. said that, M. gave a hint on this... No, I don't think she's his mistress, at least not yet. I would feel that, men are horrible liars. But it still bothers me awfully that my husband is adoring another woman so undisguised, even if she's his boss.
Now I ask for the contract every single day. It would be just great to know for how much do I have to bear him coming home at night, keeping in touch with the kids via the message board on the fridge, and if we even talk a little bit every now and then, I have to argue with M. and her thoughts.
Finally I got him to sit down and talk about this with the owner, ask him when he will pay, and how much. B. shook him off however, saying that as long as they don't have a final budget, he can't say anything. He doesn't want to be a letdown if they will have to cut some of his salary too. Because they will need to reduce costs even further, that's sure. I don't know why would someone start a channel if they don't have the money for it...
Peter pulled in all ears and tails and didn't slam on B.'s desk, asking him to say at least a minimum money with what he can calculate. I asked him to talk to B. again, but he shut me up with saying that M. also promised that if he's not being impatient, she will help him get the best price for his bargain. I let a sarcastic sentence slip about how M.'s job should not just be to pile workloads onto him and keep him by her side day and night, but also to stand up for him when it's about his salary. Peter then said that it's only jealousy talking from me, and once again he took the old record off the shelf that I, on the other hand, was only promoted by John because he wants to bed me. I didn't let myself, I asked him, doesn't he think that M.'s sudden interest is based in her wanting to get screwed by him. He called me silly. M. needs his professional knowledge, nothing else. We went to bed angry again - and alone again.
In addition, our money is running out fast. For the news that Peter is starting to work again, we loosened the tightest strings a bit. I can't go to work in worn-down, old-fashioned stuff, and the kids have been tormenting me for a few new things for months. I don't even dare to think what happens if Peter's job doesn't start to pay soon...

I even started to think that we should maybe sell the house. Me and the kids can come out of my salary, and Peter can solve his life as he can. And then I remember the happy years together and I get ashamed. Not because of John. Even though, looking back now that night at the hotel was really nice. I finally felt like a woman again. And I didn't do anything I should be feeling bad about.

We didn't talk of all this when I met Sophie again. We went to the cafe, soon becoming our regular spot at Liszt Ferenc Square. She called me and asked me what do I know of M. Not much, and I told all that to her on the phone.
It was almost like having a date with her. We revived the past, we remained silent of the present, and even less we mentioned the future. She wanted to go, but finally she talked her children into sleeping over at their grandparents. We drank a bottle of wine, and we could even laugh at our old memories together.
I was thinking, maybe if we behaved a bit more mature back then, we would be happy now, both of us. But we didn't say a word of that either. We stayed until late at night, I took her home by cab. Peter wasn't at home yet. The "shoulder devil" was jumping up and down on me to say it, ask her to leave everything behind and run away, just me and her, but then I remained silent. We didn't arrange another meeting.

I'm trying to teach Miss Sylvie, to not much avail. We sit down aside every single day, but her cell phone keeps ringing, no matter how I ask her to turn it off, she always answers this one is super duper important, and chitchats for half hours as if I wasn't even there. After three calls or so, B. usually calls him, and they disappear for hours. M. notices the thing too, she asks me to go out and have dinner with her. She asks me straight away, why am I dealing so much with Sylvie lately. I fold out my cards, I tell her what we agreed in with B. She gets upset. I suddenly get it. M. is endlessly jealous of the gal. I'm just not quite sure whether it's because of B. or me.
After dinner, Sylvie turns to me with a sudden rush of interest. She tries to find out from me what M. wanted from me. I guess it's to report to B. Obviously, I won't betray M. I use her sudden rush of interest and I ask her if she has a contract yet. After long persuasion she admits she does. Putting all my chastity aside, I even ask her for how much. She tells me. My jaw drops. First I get upset, then I calm myself down, that if she can get so much as an intern, me, a seasoned editor will definitely make more.
Half an hour later I'm at B.'s office, asking him how can Sylvie have a contract already. First he tries to duck the question, and then he admits: first they agree with the show hosts. Sylvie? A show host? I'm flabbergasted. He says he sees great potential in her, he shoots some murky hints towards my contract in preparation, and asks me not to tell anyone yet that they mean Sylvie to be a host. That including M. Of course, my first trip goes to her. She gets really upset just now. She hisses that if Sylvie is going to be a show host, she's leaving. But first she will have a little talk with the other owners who promised her she can set up the final crew herself if the channel can kick off. But until then she has to cooperate with B. I feel like throwing up from this whole BS. quite frankly I would love to quit right today. But I can't do it, I can't be without a job. So I stay and hold my peace. I don't even say anything to Sophie. I don't want to hear her I-told-you-so's.

Bells of Perils, When They Ring

M. is a little whore who knows exactly for whom to put those legs apart. Not for an inferior.

Like if I was learning again to walk, live, think. I have a job again, where I have to go in day by day, for that you have to get dressed every morning, shave, show your better face, think, communicate, not just spinning in one spot, by yourself, working up your brain for nothing. With M., the editor-in-chief I'm on great terms, we always wink at each other when the owner, B. starts to tell long tales. The situation is still very ductile, I can still be anything, even vice-editor-in-chief. So far they got another two editors, they are both inferior to me in skills. True, one of them is in a rather intimate friendship with the owner, but with joined forces with M. we can easily make his ideas sound ridiculous to the others. My optimistic hopes (VEiC) are based on the fact that I have to write the program structure, as the others are unable to do it. We put our heads together with M. after the others have left, and get a great job done. Sophie asks me about the contract every day, but I don't want to mention it yet. In these days it's not the best to first point at your pocket and then shine yourself. First I want to prove myself, and only send them the bill when they have to realize that they won't get around me, they won't get anywhere without me. And then I can dictate: a little more money that at my previous position, laptop, car, cell phone with a huge bill limit. If we can make that deal, I can talk Sophie into leaving the company. With her knowledge, she could be cherry-picking from the best positions, and we can finally get rid of her pushy boss. I don't even mind if she makes a few bucks less by the end of the month, at least she won't have to feel like she owes something to her boss. I would love to see his evil face when Sophie announces that she's quitting...
The phone just rung. It was M. She said the management didn't approve of our program concept. She asked me to go in immediately so we can make a new concept. I'm not happy, I was kvetching on Sophie all week because she was coming home late. Well, whatever, this one is important now, somehow I'll just talk it out. If a business gets on track... Up to work!

I can't even count how many programs' start I've been around to see. The formula is the same all the time, get an idea for the show, plan the details, make a marketing plan (sometimes you even have to fetch the money yourself), hoping that if the "movie" passes, you can make it. Problem is, maybe one out of ten will be accepted. And the rest of it was for free (in the best case, because it's not too uncommon that they shoot it without you, because Director X or CEO Y didn't believe in you....)
Anymore I won't work for free. But seeemingly Peter is not suspicious enough. Sophie's instincts ring the bells of peril already though:

I thought I arrived home, but still I feel more and more that I was wrong. The house is not my home. We live by each other like strangers. The old coziness is gone. But everything seems to be going fantastic. Peter comes more and more to life every day. His confidence is growing, we even have been to bed. Truth to be told, we were both thinking of something else during the act. Myself, I was thinking of the next day's presentation.
I'm afraid Peter's euphoria won't last long either and will be followed by a horrible crash. John, my boss knows B., the owner of the new channel well. He said he's an uninhibited worm who would sell his own mother for a cent of profit. M. is just a little whore whose whole talent is knowing exactly for whom to put those legs apart. (It's not jealousy talking of me, she only pushes upwards, an inferior can't even come to thought.) We still don't know what position Peter will fill at the channel, and for how much. I try to push him to ask it, but to no avail, he doesn't want to listen. I'm worried. If you let yourself be screwed over, they will screw you over. It's the laws of the wilderness now. And our marriage won's survive another dive. I'm not even sure yet if it did survive the last one.

Dangers, Liaisons

We open a few doors in each other, but the ones deep down will always remain locked

She didn't come to the Mátra, but we talked over the phone for hours. Finally I gave up my stances and came home a day early so I can meet her in person.
She wore black clothes, mourning. Suffering made her even more beautiful, her eyes were broken, but still emitting some sort of magic, some special force. I can't help it: I can't resist suffering women. Then I can tune to their frequency without any burdens, I can take in their femininity fully. As a writer, that's how I feed. The sexes unite in me, I become androgynous, then I separate the personalities in me and start to write their story.
With Sophie, at the beginning our love, we tuned up to each other easily, we were wide open for each other, maybe actually that was the problem, that we opened up too much, we had no secrets left. Then years have passed, we have both changed, we kept our secrets more carefully. The crisis in Sophie's family life was what brought us together again. I can feel her and she can feel me too. We open a few doors, but we don't make the same mistake: the ones deep down remain locked.
I notice I get more and more under her spell whilst I know she wants me to convince her to give another chance to her husband.
The story of us three changes directions though. I ask her, how many times did she forgive in the last months. How many last chances did they have?
- You're right – she says -, but he's still my husband.
- Who ruins your life.
- I don't know what to do – she shakes her head.
I would know it, but I can't tell it. I take her hand. I feel strong, I feel whole again.
- In there, where I can't see down, what do you feel there?
Her skin literally heats up under my touch.
- You know, that's the big thing, that I don't know myself either. I'm too afraid to open that door.
- Because you may find something else than what you want?
She doesn't answer me. I try again and again to open that door, but she won't.
Upon our goodbye - again the odd move - I kiss her. She returns it, but there's no fire in it.

On the third day, the phone rung. THAT phone. Seemingly the saying about the piper and hell is true. I went there and back. Sophie left me, took the kids with her. A horrible whirlpool took me in, carrying me deeper and deeper. I tried to fight, but it wouldn't let me go. When I had no idea where is up or down, deah or life, I was floating halfway between the two. Then I slowly started to drift towards the latter, but then I saw the kids, and I saw Sophie. I had to get them back.

I stayed.
Existence hurt. My body and my soul fell to pieces, but suffering still let me know: I'm still alive. The whirlpool still called, but I could already say no. I got stronger by the hour, and that filled me with confidence. I still didn't call Sophie. First I wanted to prove myself. I started running again, and I even pulled the dumbbells out. I decided I will lose all excess weight, I will train myself to be hard.
On the second day of my new life I took out my phone book and starting at A I systematically called all my acquaintances. The ice finally broke by D, he said he heard of some new TV channel starting the other day, he will recommend me.
The next day I already got the call:
- Would I like to...?
I didn't even listen to the whole sentence, I said yes. It's a thematical channel, the editor-in-chief is M. I have known her for quite a while, we always got along well. I didn't even ask about money or positions, it's all the same, I have to take it anyways, no other choice. That's the only way I can regain my family.
I called Sophie, but she didn't pick up. I texted her my apologies, but she didn't answer. I finally wrote her an email, telling everything. Then she asked for some time, and I asked her to meet me. I could've touched the sky when she said yes.
When I saw her, I couldn't understand how could I have let her go. She was beautiful beyond words, and I looked at her just the same as ten years ago, when I first saw her.
I have to repair everything - that's what I kept saying, so I will believe I can do it, I'll be able to. I can't lose her.

I tried to stay cool, but he surrounded me with such a genuine attention that I slowly melted up and let him court me. After all he is my husband, from him I can take it without guilt. Still my conscience was screaming, I felt I was two-faced. I think, if I didn't have children, this would be the moment when I packed up and moved a thousand miles away. But I do have them, and they ask me every day when their dad will get better. It's only for them that I declare him healed. They move home. As they jump on him and climb on his neck, all my bad feelings vanish. I think I got home, too.