UNSTABLE STATUS QUO

That day, something happened even worse than usual. It's as if the relationship between two full-fledged people was no longer defined by parent-child terminology - rather by a harsh ultimatum, or a temporary and rather unstable status quo.

"Now let's go for a drive!" - replied the father with a sly, sly smile, with whom one had to be very careful, because one never knew what might be on his mind, or what his actual mood was that day. He was a bus driver back in the happy peacetime era, when they were still a family, and on the surface, at least, it seemed that everyone was happy and of course everything was fine. But of course this was far from true.

"So what?" We're not going to a fashion show! Grab your jeans, sweater, jacket, scarf, hat, whatever you need, and let's go! - the father was almost always surrounded, regularly suffocated by some nervous, stressful atomic bomb explosion, which became stronger and more intense when he looked at his one-eyed, adult son with pitiful disgust. "Why can't this big Muslim act like a decent, normal man?!" - he asked himself every time they just talked or ran into each other during the day, - which turned out to be not enough on purpose, after all, the adult young man no longer intended to get into another and another confrontation with his father, whose hair-splitting, insufferable nature was slowly destroying the whole family atmosphere and atmosphere infected him.

"I'm almost done!" - the young man pulled on his boots with a serene, slightly excited hand. Maybe he hoped that his father would finally soften or be nicer to him. Maybe they'll stop by somewhere. To a bookstore or a pastry shop, and then maybe your mother will symbolically get another birthday cake, because these days the holidays somehow weren't even real.

"Well!" So is everything turned off, unplugged?

"Yes!" Everything is ready!

One last, final touch before they leave, since last time they had to come home from their grandmother's, because the young man's mother left the iron on, and it is not advisable to play with flammable things.

The young man took one last look at his former children's room, which now functioned as a study. For the most part, he wrote his smaller literary portfolios, short stories, novels, and articles here, when he knew long ago that the dog was not excited or interested either, but he calmed his conscience by at least being able to deal with something that was considered a matter of the heart.

They quickly took the elevator down from the seventh floor of the apartment building to the parking lot, where older, well-served car veterans starting to rust from the age of Methuselah could be found just like the latest development, more branded hybrids or environmentally friendly car wonders.

- People are completely out of their minds if they imagine that gasoline engines will no longer be needed in the near future! - stated the father under his breath, usually scowling and grunting. "What cattle and beasts you all are!" - in general, everyone who represented a point of view, belief or opinion contrary to his opinion was recorded on the donkey ladder as intellectually retarded, since the father knew more than everyone else and could at least speak to all important topics - of course only with his simple, peasant mind.

The young man also fastened his seat belt, because he could very well know that if his father upsets him, he can't expect much good, and then you can't order him around, since he drives like a fool.

"What the hell," you interject yourself! Are we just going next door?! - he snarled while lighting up his favorite Multifilter cigarette, even though it was unanimously accepted as a rule when they bought a new car that smoking was prohibited in the passenger compartment. Of course, the young man immediately began to cough violently and suffocate, as the tobacco smoke irritated him greatly, much to the delight of his father, who was inclined to attribute even this minor health defect to softness and physical weakness.

"You're as weak as your mother!" He doesn't like cigarette smoke either! - he commented hostilely, then turned the lock key and, stepping on the gas, backed out of the parking lot so that he could turn onto the main road, which was illuminated and yet suspiciously pitch black.

In the early evening traffic, there was hardly a single foot-sized space. Everyone who got into a car did so with a definite purpose. To the right, the traffic routes were full of people trying to get home from work, illuminated with firecrackers. Fortunately, the father knew the secret, uninhabited streets of the capital like the back of his hand, so he could always find the hidden routes where you could reach your destination comfortably, and therefore quickly without traffic jams and interruptions. He also went through such a detour.

They were up on Farkasrét in barely five minutes, then followed the route of bus number 8 until they reached the foot of Gellért Hill, and from there they arrived at their original destination. The father turned into one of the smaller sidewalk islands of the old Tabán, where there were no parking meters, because they really gave him "brain stones", as he constantly remarked, then he stopped the engine and got out.

The young man was quite surprised, what the hell are they looking for here, where not even a bird walks? Doesn't your father want to kill a prostitute? After all, he's been joking about this for months, and he can't help teasing. For many minutes he couldn't decide whether to get out or to warm up a little more for the time being.

Cool, harsh, icy November breezes blew. Those in which a person's face can turn into ice at any time, or it can freeze in a matter of seconds.

"Well?" What will happen my sweet son?! Isn't that swollen a*s of yours stuck? Get out now! �" in the eerie darkness, his father's angry, annoyed voice cut into the evening with more and more ominous, more and more menacing, and more and more unbridled violence. It was as if this voice were an open knife, cutting necks and body parts whenever it wanted.

The young man got out, closed the door and tried to wrap his warm scarf around his entire face and body so that all unprotected surfaces were protected.

The father smoked his usual cigarette and then went to the trunk of the car. He took out blankets and some packed things from home, then scattered them all on the floor.

"Here is your property, my golden child!" Now you can think for a while! - he caught himself with that, and as if he had done his job well, he got into the car, hit the gas and went home.

The wife and mother worked overtime that day, but she managed to be home before the nervous father, because a dear friend of hers was kind enough to drive him home, so he could save himself from needlessly getting on the bus, dead tired.

When he got home, he took off his clothes and tried to warm up a bit, and then immediately went to the living room, where the head of the family usually reads a newspaper or uses a tablet, and if he was completely unable to occupy himself with anything, he turned on the TV.

"Hello dear!" Just tell me? how was your day Where is the child? - the wife looked around, even peeked into the former children's room, but she could not find her grown son anywhere.

"How should I know that?" What am I? An adult, independent person! Or didn't you say it?! His phlegmatic, murderous sentences laced with sarcasm were difficult for the wife to swallow and more and more bearable.

"What would you like to eat for dinner?" There is still some fried meat and some rice! But I can also give you sweet potato fries if you prefer to eat them!

"Yes, sweet potato fries will do!" - he answered measuredly, bluntly, then buried his big fat head back into his newspaper of the day.

"Didn't Áron say where he was going?" Or did he pop into town? - the exhausted and very tired-looking mother continued to inquire curiously, with mixed concern in her voice.

"He didn't say!" He's a grown man, he does what he wants, and then! You'd better smoke a cigarette or eat.

"I'll change quickly!" Until then, you can easily cover the table, of course, only if you feel like it! - in general, the wife always tried to communicate with her husband in the form of polite prompts when there was some housework or small thing to be done.

The head of the family now struggled to get up from his comfortable armchair, where he always felt more at home than in any other more sympathetic part of the apartment, and tried to set the table aesthetically.

"Honey?" Are you sure Áron didn't call home? This is all so strange, don't you think?! - bad forebodings began to torment the mother, and this meant only one thing for the head of the family: the noose of exposure was around his neck.

"He didn't tell me anything!" He's always scratching his head over something! You know how capricious and crazy he is! He must be browsing in a bookstore or sitting in the library instead of being with his parents.

"I'm calling Aunt Gizi!" Maybe he went down to get his new books, or his cell phone just ran out of power! �" the worried mother now went to the landline phone installed in the dining room and already dialed one of their lovely, grandmother-aged neighbors, who also had a lot of fiction books and Áron was fond of poetry.

"I just can't understand what you're talking about!" He'll be home sooner or later! Let's eat because I'm hungry! - grumpily, without saying a word, he stacked the cutlery neatly next to each other in the dining room and put down the snow-white plates.

"You're hiding something from me, aren't you?" - the woman put her hand on her hip. "Let me hear it?" What happened? - he took a deep breath, as if this could simply eliminate any stress or further nervousness.

"How do you know that I know about anything?" �" as soon as the head of the family felt the threat, his voice turned into an open attack without hesitation.

"Who is under the same roof with Áron all day?" You! Well then?

"That still doesn't prove anything!" After all, I could leave home at any time if I felt like it!

"Well, that's true!" But we know that you wouldn't set foot anywhere without well-considered goals! So? Then? What happened between you two? Let me hear it! - now it was the wife's turn to preserve her human presence and fragile dignity, because if her husband had committed a mistake or an insult, she would have preferred to slap him, or at least - teach him to be polite, wherever they are.

Now she was staring at him with a piercing, penetrating gaze that saw right into his kidneys, and she knew very well that her husband hated that.

"Why are you looking at me like that now?" I have no idea where your Muslim boy is!

"You listen here!" If you don't tell me right away what you know or where Áron went, not only will you not get dinner, but you can also leave our lives! �" this said more than any confession or words. The wife's glass was filled immediately. But if he tells you that he only meant the bridge adventure as a good lesson and a joke, it is not even certain that his wife will understand and relent.

- Well! I'll tell you if you ask so nicely! I wanted to raise your son a little, because I noticed that since he's been sitting at home and not working, he's become a little sloppy!

"Oh, don't start again!" You also know very well that he is constantly writing and trying to find a job, but in today's world, without interest and protection, even the average little person's hands are tied!

"That's an empty excuse, you know it!" If he wanted so much, he could have found a job anywhere! Why wasn't the tobacconist good for him, huh?! Or was there that small general store at the bottom of the housing estate?

"You also know that if he had gone there to work, he wouldn't have earned enough to pay his non-existent sub-rent!"

"Instead, he's been a parasite on our necks for about fifteen years!"

- Finish! I can't stand you talking about our son like that! He is indeed an extremely versatile, creative and talented young man who has concrete ideas, but he does not have the money to make them all come true. For example; you knew that he also writes screenplays and plays!

"Do you have any money from it?" Can you do anything with it?! No! Then, it all makes no sense!

- OK! Let's end this here now, because I'm very tired! Tell me honestly where is our son?

"I put it out for you to reflect on for a while at the foot of the Elizabeth Bridge!" - chuckled the head of the family with a sly smile, as if he had heard a good joke or joke.

"How... how... what did you do????" - the woman was silent for long minutes. "How could you do such a thing?" - right now he would have preferred to tear her by the hair, but he had to restrain himself.

"While you live in my house, learn a little discipline and decency!"

"Well, I'm serious, you've lost the rest of your mind, my dear!" I won't argue with you anymore! I'm going for our son! �" with that, she put on her coat, scarf, and gloves again, and didn't even wait to hear what her husband muttered under his breath.

Meanwhile, Áron almost froze. Her organization was permanently unaccustomed to being exposed to the changes of cold and capricious nature for such a long time. In the meantime, the snow began to fall in thick, monotonous flakes.

The worried mother hit the gas as fast as she could, and she wasn't particularly interested in the fact that he broke a series of traffic rules. He drove arbitrarily through several red and yellow lights. When he reached the foot of the Elizabeth Bridge in less than twenty minutes, he found Áron crouched in a small cave-like recess, shivering and cold. His only grown-up son looked to him as a veritable savior angel whose duty it always was to rescue him from hell on earth.

"Mom!" I'm so... I'm sorry... I'm sorry... - he chattered his teeth, which were now chattering together like fine porcelain tiles due to the cold.

"Shhh!" It's okay honey! I'm glad you're not in serious trouble! �" he helped her stand up, then they stumbled to the heating car and both got in.

�" You know, your father is a person with an extremely sensitive nervous system, who always takes his stress out on other people. True! That's no excuse! You mind your own business, and if you don't have to, talk to him only if absolutely necessary.

The journey home has never been so exhausting and tiring as it was then. The pitch-black night seems to have covered everything and everyone with some sticky, syrupy secretion, from which it may prove almost impossible to get rid of.

A few months later, the head of the family died unexpectedly of a bilateral heart attack. His immediate family members could not even say goodbye to him.