And because of this — though my mind did comprehend the need for these dogs — the whole protected area became something like a focal point, the living nucleus of all my fears.
The untouched forest on that side of the fence seemed exactly like the peacefully silent oak forest on this side, the real, free forest, our forest; it seemed exactly what a forest ought to be, with dried and broken branches, wind-torn treetops adorned with clumps of mistletoe, toppled tree trunks, broken roots sticking out of the gritty soil, nearly ossified giant lips of tinder fungus thriving on decay, deep dark hollows everywhere, shimmering cushions of moss, tender saplings, slender and delicate, burgeoning under the protection of ruffled groups of ancient but healthy oaks; horsetail and fern spinning out from beneath soft, century-old layers of fallen leaves; ephemeral green undergrowth in spots warmed by sun rays slashing through the foliage; the purple crest of corydalis fluttering in the breeze along with blue bunches of fragrant grape hyacinths; the white umbrellas of the poison hemlock rocking on high, jagged petals wide-open now; yellow blades of meadow grass and bluish-green wild quick grass; the shiny-leafed marsh marigolds in damp crevices; in the shadow of craggy rocks the waxy-green cyclamen that never bloom in these parts; in the sunny spots, fuzzy leaves of wild strawberry, and tiny bell-shaped flowers on the thick stalks of Solomon's seals, peeking and nodding between the ribbed leaves; oh, and the shrubs around the big oak trees, the hawthorn that can thicken into a tree when it has enough room to grow, the hearty spindleberry bushes, and, most of all, sprouting and climbing in the impenetrable prickly thicket, lots of dewberry vines producing by autumn their pleasantly tart fruit — and still! in spite of all this, the practiced eye could tell immediately that on the other side of the street, behind the wire fence, it was not the same forest; no twisted and toppled tree trunks there, torn and fallen branches were carefully removed by busy hands, perhaps after dusk, when one can still see a little in the afterglow of the opaque sky, or stealthily at early dawn, because I never saw anyone work there, in fact I never saw a human figure there at all; the bushes grew more sparsely and had been thinned out, and since fewer leaves fell at summer's end, the grass could grow taller and in wider patches; in short, this was a carefully tended forest designed to appear wild to unsuspecting observers; I never understood why, since the deception was obvious, given the two-meter-wide strip of land along the fence cleared of all living growth, with overturned soil covered with fine white sand, and on the surface of the sand traces of the same secret gardeners' handiwork, grooves left by the teeth of rakes, and it was also in this strip that the watchdogs made their appearance.
When I turned off Istenhegyi Road and started up the gently rising slope of Adonisz Road, it didn't matter if I crossed over to the other side and never took my eyes off the silent bushes behind the fence, I could never be alert enough to see them appear; they materialized out of nowhere, silently and unnoticed, one at a time; I knew they rotated the dogs on and off duty as they did the unseen guards, powerfully built, well-fed German shepherds with darkly spotted, sand-colored, sometimes grayish fur, and tapered shaggy tails, the eyes in their projecting muzzles appearing benign and wise, pointed, acutely sensitive ears registering the slightest vibrations of hostility, mouths nearly always open, with fleshy glistening red tongues sliding up and down to the rhythm of their constant panting, revealing the white cusps of fang-like back teeth; and all they did was follow me, faster when I quickened my steps, slower when I slowed down, of course making not the slightest noise, their huge pads sinking silently into the sand; and I had long ceased to experiment with stopping, because if I did they'd stop, too, turn their snouts toward me and just watch; their look, their eyes, were the most terrifying things about them — excited, keyed-up, yet completely impassive, eyes like two pretty balls, and at the same time you could see that under their thick fur the muscles were wound up like coils, ready to spring; and not only did they not emit a sound — no yelp or growl — they didn't even pant harder; Kálmán learned from Pista, because Pista was a guard on the far side of the restricted area, at the Lóránt Street gate, and he not only talked to Kálmán sometimes but also let him have some of his hollow-filtered Russian cigarettes, which they ended up smoking in the school bathroom during the long morning recess; anyway, it was Pista who said that this was when the dogs were most dangerous, and one should never take one's eyes off them; it didn't matter that they had been trained for any eventuality, in fact, the more rigorous their training, so the trainers had said, the more unpredictable their nervous system would become; they knew and understood everything, Kálmán reported, but were nervous wrecks, the trainers themselves feared them; they had muscles of steel, that's the phrase he used, muscles of steel, and they could hurdle a not-too-high fence like that from a standing position, which was the reason there was no barbed wire on top; supposedly the trainers asked that the barbed wire be removed because the dogs' tails might get caught; their commander refused at first, it seems, claiming that without the barbed wire the fence would not conform to regulations, and finally Comrade Rákosi had to intervene personally, because the dogs were extremely valuable; even within the compound they were led about on leashes, and it was impossible to befriend them; they would not accept food or candy from anyone, wouldn't even sniff at it, it was as though you weren't there, they looked right through you; and if anyone tried to provoke them by kicking the fence, something that would make any other dog go crazy, they would simply bare their teeth as a warning; they were trained not to get riled up needlessly; when they made a mistake, however, they were beaten mercilessly with sticks and leather straps; if you did nothing but look into their eyes, without moving, they wouldn't know what was happening or how to react, and that's when you could see they were nervous wrecks; they might be beaten for jumping unnecessarily, but they couldn't always control themselves and they'd jump, catch their victim from behind, go straight for the nape of the neck; so they kept following me — to be more precise, after a few steps abreast of one another, it seemed I was following them; they were trotting on their sandy strip one step ahead of me; at the top of the incline we came to a sudden turn, the fence also followed the curve of the road, and there began a long, straight stretch; with their tails up, the dogs led the way, and if I behaved, that is to say if I didn't hurry or fall behind, if fear did not make me break into a run — that wouldn't have been a good solution, since on that straight stretch past the turn I would have had to race for about three hundred meters accompanied by the dogs' frightful barking — if in spite of all my shame and humiliation, hatred and urge to rebel, I complied with their demands, if I did not stop, run, slow down, or speed up, and was even careful not to breathe too loudly, and if I managed to suppress any gestures and emotions they might construe as obtrusive, just as they tried to curb their nervousness and, as a result, the tension of our mutual suspicion became stabilized, then, after a while, our relationship became more refined, not so threatening: I did what I was expected to do, and the dog, becoming almost indifferent to me, did what it was supposed to-do; but if coming from Maja's place I wasn't in the mood, or wasn't mentally prepared, to play this game — for it was a game after all, a kind of experiment, a not altogether harmless balancing act at the edge of self-control and dependence, self-discipline and independence, a sort of political gymnastics — then I chose the shorter and in many ways more pleasant route, right near the three tall pines, the very landmark Szidónia had mentioned to the streetcar conductor, I would take the forest trail and would peer back at the canine guard on duty from behind the safety of the dense shrubbery, noting with considerable satisfaction the perplexed and disappointed look on its face as it stared after me; I was quickly concealed by the woods, though I knew the guards' binoculars could follow me even here; the trail rose sharply as I moved farther in; at times I chose this path even after dusk, knowing well that there might be darker, not to say more ominous dangers lurking in wait for me there, yet I felt I could cope with these dangers more easily and confidently than I could with those rotten dogs.