The Lovers, the Gypsy and the Train (In Romanian with English Subtitles)

By M. Alice Chown

At half past dawn in late May, a train, which looks as if it has collided with a cow or two in its day, or was, perhaps, picked up at a used railway car lot, has just rolled into Timisoara station in western Romania.  Passengers disembark and passengers arrive on the platform with boarding passes in hand.  The crowd flows around a naturally thin, blond, young woman, wearing jeans and a pale green T-shirt, who stands like a lone sapling on a floodplain.  Her name is Anya.  She scans the doors of the station, her blue eyes searching for someone.  When the last person has boarded, the conductor hails Anya, who reluctantly climbs onto the train.

On board, she discovers a middle-aged Roma woman has taken her window seat.  The woman, dressed in a white blouse, yards of brightly coloured skirts and a red headscarf adorned with coins, sits with her hands on the armrests, as immovable as a Carpathian mountain.
   
Anya:  Excuse me, madam you’re in my seat.  My ticket says—

Romni:  Tickets do not matter to me.  I cannot sit on the aisle.  See, a shadow is falling across that seat.  This is very bad luck for Roma.  I’ll be struck down by shaking sickness or fever, or the train will crash.  Surely, you can understand this.

Anya slumps into the aisle seat, giving the Romni a sidelong dirty look.  

Romni:  Your evil eye cannot harm me.  

The Romni withdraws a string of garlic from her bosom.  Anya turns to face the woman.

Anya:  My father was a Gypsy.  Before he met and married my mother in France, he left the camps behind and made something of his life.  So don’t wave your garlic at me, madam.  I don’t appreciate losing my seat, because of your superstitions.

Romni:  Ah, you have Roma blood.  It would be wise for you to find another seat.  

Anya rolls her eyes as if to say, Gypsies!  

The train starts up with a sigh and a grunt.  The camera shows a shadow, created by the cross-piece of the window on the opposite side of the aisle, running across Anya’s forehead.  As she reaches up to remove the elastic from her curly hair, the train lurches to a halt. Unable to brace herself, Anya pitches forward, hitting her head on the seat in front of her.  The female passenger in the seat ahead twists around to glare at her.  Anya, rubbing her forehead, returns the glare and she turns her gaze on the Romni, whose lips narrow as if to say “I told you so”.
  
The conductor comes to punch the tickets and announces that the train will remain at the station until an obstruction is removed from the tracks.  
#
Cut to a scene in the cab of a rundown transport truck.  This is Romania, but Tom Waits’ version of “There’s a Place for Us” is playing on the radio.  A swarthy young man with an intense expression glances at the Virgin Mary dangling from the rear-view mirror.  The Virgin’s blank, plastic features transform into those of Anya, her blue eyes searching for someone.  The young man, whose name is Ivan, presses his foot on the gas pedal and passes the red sports car.  A sign ahead indicates the turn off for the Timisoara railway station.   Ivan glances up at the dangling Virgin again and catches her giving him a dirty look.  He speeds up.

Exterior shot of the logo for a Romanian tire manufacturer on right side of the truck.  The red sports car racing alongside cuts in front of the truck, causing it to miss the turn-off.  The truck takes the next exit, turning onto the side road without reducing its speed.  The truck hits a bump at the top of a hill.  It flies over the railway tracks below, lands in a ditch and keeps going, cutting a deeper, wider trough until it slows to a abrupt stop, missing a goat by the width of its beard.  The jolt has caused the latch on back of the trailer to break, releasing a stream of bouncing tires.

In the cab of the truck, Ivan, who is unhurt, watches his cargo rolling down the tracks.  He shrugs and aims a sheepish grin at the Virgin, who looks very anxious.  Ivan takes the virgin down from the mirror and puts her in his pants pocket.  Then he leaps out of the truck and starts running.
#
On the train, Anya gets up and paces in the aisle.  She walks to the door, tries the handle and discovers that it is locked.  The conductor informs her that for the safety of the passengers, no one is allowed to leave the train.  She resumes her seat after pausing to check for the shadow that had angled across the backrest.  It’s gone.  She takes a novel out of her backpack.  It’s Pasternak’s “Doctor Zhivago”.  Anya removes the bookmark, shifts in her chair and manages to concentrate on the words on the page for at least ten minutes.  Looking over the top of the book, she sees the mid-morning glare on the opposite window turn to frost.  The frost spreads over every surface of the train’s shabby interior.  Icicles hang from the noses and chins of her fellow passengers and the conductor.  Snow clings to their eyebrows, eyelashes and hair.  Everything is frozen in time as it was in Dr. Zhivago’s abandoned house in post-revolution Russia.
  
The Romni next to her begins to hum a Gypsy air.  The frost dissolves into glare.  The snow and ice evaporate.  The train becomes uncomfortably hot.  The passengers open their windows and fan themselves with magazines, books or boarding passes.  The heat appears to have no effect on the Romni.  Anya, her cheeks flushed, stands and reaches across her seatmate to pull down the window.  The platform is empty except for a small cluster of railway personnel, speaking in low voices.  Anya sighs, realizing that her lover isn’t going to show up.  She sits back down and tries to read.

Romni:  You are restless.  Perhaps, a palm reading would help to pass the time?

Anya:  No one can predict the future.  The creases on my palm are simply creases.  

Anya opens her hand to prove her point.  The Romni casts her eyes upon it. 

Romni:  Fortune telling is for amusement.  Girls like you wonder who they will marry and whether they will be happy.  If I were to read your palm, I might tell you something about the man you are leaving behind in Romania.  

Anya:  Really?

The Romni takes Anya’s wrist and gazes at her palm.  Their eyes meet.  The Gypsy’s dark eyes are full of mystery and the young woman’s eyes are full of hope.
  
Romni:  Hmmm...  Interesting...  If I am to tell you more, I require something in return.  A few Euros...  Ten would suffice.

Anya frowns and closes her hand.

Anya:  I can’t believe I almost fell for your trickery.

Romni:  Trickery?  You wouldn’t expect a baker to give away his bread, so why would you expect me to give away fortunes for free?    

The Romni crosses her arms and faces forward.  Anya attempts to lose herself in “Dr. Zhivago” again, but a furrow soon crosses her brow.  She lowers the book.

Anya:  How did you know about the man I’m leaving behind?

Romni:  I am in the business of knowing such things.

Anya removes her wallet from her backpack and counts out 9 Euros.  The Romni wrinkles her nose at the lower amount, but accepts the cash, nevertheless.  She tucks it into her ample bosom and takes the young girl’s wrist.
  
Anya:  Tell me about the man I’m leaving behind.  Will he miss me?

Romni:  No.

Anya pulls her hand away and looks crestfallen.

Romni:  He won’t miss you, because he is on his way to the station as I speak.

Anya:  He is?

Romni:  Yes!  And when he arrives, he will ask you to marry him.

A smile spreads from Anya’s lips to her eyes, eyebrows and ears.

Anya:  He will?

The Romni nods and bends over Anya’s hand, tracing the lines with her finger.

Romni:  He will.  After you are wed, your husband will buy a... not a truck... a mini-van.  In this van, you will visit Disneyland.  Euro Disney.  There will be some trials in your life.  Someone close to you... I see a fire sign, perhaps a Leo... will have heart trouble, but you will live a long time.  Do you see these fine lines beneath your little finger?  You will have two... no, four children of the same sex.

Anya:   Wow, marriage, a van, Disneyland, children... I just graduated from med school and I’m on my way to my first posting.  If I become a wife and mother, will I succeed in my chosen career?  

Romni:  Yes.  It will not be easy for you, but you are destined to accomplish great things, my dear.  You have a gift.

Outside, the sound of raised voices.  A man asks to board the train, but the station master refuses to allow him to do so.  Anya rushes to the window.
  
Anya:  Ivan!  I’m over here!

Ivan runs toward Anya’s voice, calling her name.  Disregarding the “keep arms in” sign on the metal sill, she reaches her arms through the window.  He stretches up to take her hands in his.

Ivan:  I am such an idiot for letting you go.   I’m so sorry, my love, I was afraid...

Anya:  Afraid?

Ivan:  I’m afraid that I’m not good enough for you.  I’m a humble trucker and not a very good one and you are going to be a doctor.  I can’t help but worship you, but I am a nothing compared to you.

Anya:  A nothing?  What about your poetry?  You write not just from your heart but all hearts.  Your poems bring tears to my eyes.  

Ivan:  I have been writing nonsense since I was a boy, but when I met you by chance on the shore of the Danube, I knew I’d found my muse.  Oh, don’t cry!

The Romni, who is standing behind Anya, pulls a handkerchief from her bosom, in the same way a magician pulls a silk scarf from his sleeve.  She wipes Anya’s tears.
  
Ivan:  You are like the graceful white willow and I am like the wart-covered frog, admiring your reflection from beneath the water’s surface.

Anya:  I love you!

Ivan:  You can’t possibly love me.  I am a stinking bin of trash in a filthy alley and you are a sweet-smelling bed of lilies in a beautiful garden.  

Anya:  Ivan, do you realize how much it hurts my underarms, hanging them out the window like this?  The sill is pressing directly on my radial nerves, sending acute pain to my fingertips.  I suffer this for you and you alone.  That’s how much I love you!

Ivan:  Marry me Anya!  I will follow you to France.  I will be your dog, licking the bedpans of your patients clean, just to be near you.

Anya:  I will!  I will marry you!  But you must promise to buy a van and take me to Disneyland and give me four children of the same sex.

Ivan:  Those are unusual requests, but I would do anything for you, my love.  I promise!

Ivan lets go of her hand for a moment to search his pockets.  He finds a lug nut and places it on her slim ring finger.  The people on the train, who have been listening to the proposal, cheer.  Anya holds up the lug nut for them to admire.  They "ooh" and "ah".

Ivan:  I will buy you a diamond sharp enough to slice through Carpathian granite and bright enough to make the stars shield their eyes.  

Anya laughs.
  
Anya:  This is the most beautiful lug nut I have ever seen.  Have it engraved with the words “true love” and I will wear it always.  

Ivan lets go of Anya’s hands to beg the station master to allow him on the train.  He is told that every seat is taken.  The station master adds that the obstruction is almost cleared and the train will depart momentarily.

The Romni leans out of the window.
  
Romni:  Young man, I would be happy to give up my seat for you.  What have you to offer in exchange?

Ivan withdraws a lug wrench and some lug nuts from his pocket.  The Romni shakes her head, asking for more.  He takes out several hundred Romanian bani.  The Romni shakes her head.  He shows her the plastic virgin, which had adorned his rear view mirror, and the Romni nods, holding out her hands for the wrench, statue and the bani.  She tucks these items in her ample bosom and gives Ivan her ticket.

Anya:  Wow!  You sacrificed a virgin for me.

Ivan:  I would sacrifice a thousand virgins for you!

The conductor opens the door and examines Ivan’s ticket with a raised eyebrow.  Ivan leaps up the stairs as the Romni, richer for the time she spent on board, descends with a swish of skirts and scarves.
  
Together at last, the lovers stand cheek to cheek at the window, waving ‘goodbye’ to the Romni.  They continue to watch as she purchases another ticket at the booth and boards a train on the adjacent platform.  Through the windows of the other train, they see her take a seat. Anya chuckles.

Anya:  I bet that’s not her seat... and how come she doesn’t have any luggage?

Ivan:  I’m sure she has enough supplies for a week in that bosom of hers.  I, on the other hand, have no luggage and no bosom, and yet I have all I need – you.

The lovers take their seats and curl toward one another. The train leaves the station with a grunt and a sigh.

The End

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