As ar as I was concerned, those were the only words they needed to know. At least I remembered Katalin’s name. I’dmet her a ew days ago, and we’d hung out almost every nightsince. It was a mutually benefcial arrangement. She showedme around Budapest, and I charged most o our un on Dad-dy’s credit card. Not like he would notice or care. And i hedid, he’d always said that i money didn’t buy happiness, thenpeople were spending it wrong.
Thanks for the life lessons, Daddy.
“Kelsey,” Katalin said, her accent thick and exotic.Damn, why couldn’t I have one o those? I’d had a slight Texastwang when I was younger, but my years in theatre had all butbeat that out o me. She said, “Welcome to the ruin bars.”Ruin bars.I paused in ruing István’s hair (or the one I called Ist- ván anyway) to take in where we were. We stood on an empty street flled with dilapidated buildings. I knew the wholedon’t- judge-a-book-by-its-cover thing; but in the dark, this
place was straight out o a zombie apocalypse. I wondered how to say
in Hungarian.The old Jewish quarter.
where Katalin said we weregoing.
It sure as hell didn’t look to me like there were any barsaround here. I took in the sketchy neighborhood, and thoughtat least I’d gotten laid last night. I I was going to get choppedinto tiny pieces,
I’d go out with a bang. Literally.I laughed and almost recounted my thoughts to my com-panions, but I was pretty sure it would get lost in translation.