His shots completed Michael packed up the equipment. About the same time Reverend Nagy the Protestant priest arrived. He was a stern looking fellow, his presence made Mr. Molnár immediately nervous and the women folks more subdued. Nevertheless he greeted Michael politely. He knew of Michael’s arrival, he said.
“It is a small town you know. Nothing ever goes unnoticed around here, especially not the arrival of an American.”
“Actually I’m half-Hungarian,” replied Michael, “My father was born in this town, that’s why I’m here.”
Reverend Nagy complimented Michael on the Fiat, he said he did not have a car, although he had a driver’s license. “I’m not as lucky as my counterpart, he has an Oldsmobile. Well what can I say, his parishioners are more generous than mine.”
Reverend Nagy gave a brief overview of the spiritual status of Hollóvár.
“This is one of those few towns in the Kunság,” he said, “where actually Catholics and Protestants coexist well, maybe because the ratio is approximately fifty-fifty. In this region most settlements are Protestant with a few Catholic towns or villages here and there. Not only in the Kunság, but in the entire Alföld most Hungarians are Protestant. This town is an exception; the farmers are usually Protestant, while Catholics tend to be tradesman, laborers or merchants. We also have some Jewish families here, but they seldom get involved with farming. Naturally they are all merchants, they have an impressive Temple on the main square, you should take some photos of that as well. Of course like all the other Alföld towns we also have our fair share of gypsies. They are not really religious and they tend to be Catholic anyway. I’m sorry, I have never heard of your family, but my ignorance could be forgiven, I’m not a native of this region. I have been here twelve years now, but I don’t think I’ll ever be able to afford a car. These farmers are tight as their black soil, they don’t spoil their reverend. They only come to church on Sundays or when someone gets married or dies.”
“What’s about this young lady?” – Michael interjected – “Was she Catholic or Protestant?”
“Well, actually she was neither ……” and at that very moment the reverend suddenly suspended his words in midsentence. Michael followed the reverend’s eye and he also became speechless. Oblivious to the presence of the men and totally determined to accommodate the train of the wedding dress Ilonka’s godmother kept lifting up the wedding dress, first the outer layer then the petticoat. It seemed as she was searching for a place under the dress. In her haste she lifted the petticoat repeatedly to such an extent that it exposed Ilonka’s pelvis and inner thighs. It was a beautiful sight. Michael swallowed his saliva, Reverend Nagy’s face turned red. The thighs were smooth and well formed, not too skinny, not too fat. They were pink in colour with a beige tan. She had on a very sexy lace panty that by the virtue of its fabric was translucent allowing an opaque view of her genital hair behind.
The view was intermittent and lasted only for a moment. Both Michael and the reverend pretended that nothing happened, neither of them wished to signal to the other that he saw what the other had. Clearing his throat the reverend continued: “Well this unfortunate young lady was not very religious to begin with. Her mother although Catholic was not much of a church-goer. Her father a Protestant died a few years ago leaving her mother with the children. I have not seen any of them in my church since their father’s death. I believe her mother now works at the Catholic Church, she does cooking and cleaning for Father Bródy.”
“Will you be conducting the ceremony?” –asked Michael referring to the funeral.
“No, no” –replied the reverend– “The mother insist on my counterpart. I just stopped by to check on a few other things. I’ll be out of town anyway for a few days. I’ll be visiting my mother, she will celebrate her birthday on Sunday. Father Bródy will take care of these poor souls. You should meet him, he is quite a character, h