MOM, ILL BE THERE!
After stepping out of the perinatal center, Nika collapsed weakly onto a bench and pulled her phone from her bag. A couple of long rings later, Denis answered.
Den, why didnt you meet me? Nika asked, her voice tinged with sadness.
Im on my way, love! Traffic jam! Denis shouted back. Behind him, irritated voices and the endless wail of car horns could be heard.
Ive already left, Nika replied. I cant stay there any longer.
A sigh was heard on the other end. He understood everything.
Im waiting, Nika said briefly and hung up.
She slipped the phone back into her bag, took a deep breath, and began to scan the surroundings. A gentle autumn breeze stripped golden leaves from the branches, and the sun warmed everything as if trying to give its last heat before the long winter. It was the height of the final womens summer. Mothers took their children out for a walk to enjoy the mild weather. Kids tumbled through rustling foliage, laughing; mothers chatted, making future plans and bragging about their offsprings achievements. The playground on the perinatal centers grounds was packed todayalmost on purpose.
A lump rose again in Nikas throat. She would never bring a child to that playground because she would never have a child. This was her fourth consecutive miscarriage. This time she was examined not in a regular gynecological office but at the perinatal center. Denis, her husband, spared no expense, yet the doctors could only shrug. Both Nika and Denis were completely healthy; even their compatibility was checked. Everything was fine. The diagnosis recurrent unexplained miscarriage still stared from her chart, and her attending physician, halfseriously, advised Nika to keep faith and pray.
Her thoughts were cut short when someone sat down beside her. She turned. To her left sat an elderly Roma woman in a long colorful skirt, a headscarf, and heavy gold earrings with large stonesan archetypal figure of the mysterious nomadic people.
Feeling sad, dear? the Roma woman began without preamble.
Nika nodded.
I see your baby didnt come again, the woman continued.
How do you know? Nika asked, startled, wondering whether the woman had contacts among the centers staff feeding her patient information. She braced for curses, the evil eye, or a price.
Your dreams they hold a clue. Every time you lose a child, you have the same dream. Look there for guidance. A curse is on you, girl. The baby will tell you what to do. When you break the curse, a new dream will appear, and youll know its over.
Nika could only stammer, Uh She had never spoken of the dreams to anyone, not even Denis.
As Nika tried to recover, the Roma woman abruptly stood and walked away, surprisingly asking for no money for her prediction.
—
A week earlier.
The same station, the same platform split into two halves. One side bright, sunny, cozy; the other dim and gloomy. Nika stood on the platform waiting for a train. Around her, peoplemostly womenwaited as if for something. Nika was at the boundary between light and dark, as were several other women.
In the distance a trains horn blew. It approached quickly; a gust hit Nika as the locomotive and a few cars roared past. Her heart pounded, waiting for something important. The carriage doors opened and childrenboys and girls of various looks, in bright dresses and Tshirts, no older than threetumbled into the waiting arms of their mothers and were carried away.
On the dark side of the platform, older children lingered. When the doors opened, they entered reluctantly, faces sad, tears glimmering. Nika watched the carriage windows, worried. The children started on the bright side but, realizing they couldnt leave, gradually moved toward the dark car.
Through a window Nika saw a beautiful little girl with blonde hair and green eyes. Her face seemed so familiar that Nikas heart fluttered. The girl waved and smiled sadly; her other hand was hidden behind her back.
An overwhelming surge of love and tenderness rushed through Nika, propelling her toward the carriageuntil she collided with a conductor standing at the entrance, her face strikingly beautiful. Dressed in a white trouser suit, the conductor gestured Nika to stop.
You cant. The child must get out on its own.
But the girl wouldnt leave. It was clear she wanted to, but something prevented her. The other mothers, whose children also stayed behind, shouted and wept. The girl opened her mouth, and Nika read the movement of her lips without effort: Mommy, Ill get out, just later!
When, dear, when?? Nika screamed.
When you free the little bird! the girl replied. She pulled a hand from behind her back, placed it against the glass. On the childs palm perched a finch, its body pierced by a needle, drops of scarlet blood falling onto the tiny hand. The girl sighed, stepped back from the window, and, like the others, moved into the dark section.
The conductor smiled and entered the carriage. The train pulled away, leaving despondent mothers on the platform still waiting for children who never appeared.
—
Nick, what are you doing? Wake up! Deniss voice snapped her back.
Nika blinked and found herself sitting in a chair, staring unblinkingly at a painting opposite her: a winter scene, a rowan branch laden with bright red berries against snow, two titmice spreading their wings, ready to soar. The picture had been a peaceoffering given to Nika at Deniss wedding by his former girlfriend, Marina, as an apology for the petty revenges shed taken on Nika during a certain period.
Nika examined the canvas. One of the birds sides glinted.
Nick, you okay? Denis asked gently, placing his hand on her shoulder.
She brushed his hand away, rose, and walked toward the painting. Denis followed quietly from behind.
Nika lifted the canvas and unfolded it. On the inner side, right over the inscription A token of reconciliation from Marina, a tiny needle hole pierced the artwork. The tip of the needle was visible from within. It turned out one of the titmice had been deliberately skewered, the wound hidden from view.
A chill ran down her spine.
Whats that? Denis noticed the needle too.
Its Marinas doing, Nika whispered, voice trembling.
Its not my Denis snapped, narrowing his green eyes.
Never mind. Its a curse, Nika said firmly. Thats why I cant carry any pregnancy to term.
She briefly told him about her recurring dreams and the Roma woman shed met by the perinatal center earlier that day.
—
An hour later Nika and Denis returned to the center, hoping to find the enigmatic Roma woman again. She was indeed there, sitting on a bench as if waiting for them. Seeing a parked car, she rose.
Did you know? Nika asked as she approached.
I knew youd come, the woman replied. Found the thread?
Even with a needle, Nika replied bitterly. You understand these things, right? Can you help us? Well reward you! Nika added finally.
The Roma woman smiled and nodded.
—
Five months later.
The same station, the same platform. This time Nika stood on the bright side, awaiting the train with even greater anticipation than before. When the carriage aligned and a gust swept her, her heart nearly leapt from her chest.
Now the conductor stepped onto the platform, bathed in sunlight. Her white trouser suit glittered, her face radiant with joy. Behind her, the first to emerge was a small blonde girl with green eyes. She had waited too long in that carriage, so she ran forward, arms outstretched, and within a minute collapsed into Nikas arms. Two heartsmother and daughterbeat in perfect unison. After years of loss, they would finally be together in just a few months. And a few months felt like a lifetime compared to the years of deprivation and pain.
