PART VIII - Part 02

Iana Chakalarova smiled. The train soon entered the station. There was a lot of clinking, clanking and banging before the train stopped. The unexpected metallic noises made by the train braking awakened Evangelia and Pandura. They opened their eyes and smiled.

“We have arrived in Skopje,” cheerfully announced Stoian. “There are a lot of people waiting on the platform. Maybe our friends are here too?”

Unfortunately Stoian’s joy was interrupted. He did not recognize the Skopje train station. Everything he looked at was unfamiliar to him. The only thing he recognized was the half ruined railway station building and the old “Bristol” hotel.

He got off the train and was all excited about the many changes made to the city. Distracted by the new picture of Skopje Stoian forgot about his fellow passengers. The noisy voices of the people getting off and Evangelia grabbing his hand brought him back to reality. Only then he noticed the women inside holding the suitcases. He quickly ran back inside and grabbed the luggage. He let the women go ahead and as he was getting off he saw two women hugging and tears welling in their eyes. Evangelia Gasparova Nakovska was firmly holding Maria Stavridis tightly. Both women were crying. The two women were lost in their own world and no

one could tell if they were shedding tears of joy or of grief for their lost dreams. They hugged and kissed and no one could separate them. Finally Evangelia calmed down and pointed at the young lady getting off the train.

Maria Stavridis looked at the girl and was wondering who she might be. She could not remember ever seeing her face.

She looked at Evangelia curiously as if seeking an explanation.

“This is Pandura, my daughter. Don’t you recognize her?” she said with tears in her eyes.

Maria Stavridis let out a loud cry of surprise and grabbed and hugged Pandura. She was pressing so hard the girl thought she would crack her ribs.

“My dear child!” she sobbed. “The last time I saw you, you were a baby swinging in the cradle. What a young woman, what a beauty you have become…!” she said.

When she was done with Pandura Maria embraced Iana Chakalarova.

“Cry as much as you can,” whispered Iana. “I lost my tears in the cold cell in Moscow.”

Stoian Dzhavalekov shook hands with Maria Stavridis. Iana Chakalarova was afraid to ask about her son. She feared she would collapse on the platform if there was bad news. She often sought to look into Maria Stavridis’s eyes hoping she would have good news for her… to calm her soul. Then, when she could no longer endure the suspense, she said:

“Why didn’t Risto come to meet me?”

Maria Stavridis’s face brightened.

“He doesn’t know you were coming. If he knew he would be here. You are a grandmother, you have two grandchildren. You will see the darlings soon,” she replied.

Iana Chakalarova smiled a huge smile and again hugged Maria Stavridis. They then left the train station and went to Maria’s apartment in Avtokomanda.

Maria Stavridis had a two-bedroom apartment, decently furnished with old furniture. They gathered around the table.

“Welcome to our homeland!” said Maria and offered them quince jam and coffee. “The children are at work right now but will be here in the evening.”

They all looked around at the many framed photographs neatly hanging on the walls. They had coffee.

“You can lie down and rest,” said Maria. “We will talk later. We are together now and things will work out in our favour.”

8. Stoian Dzhavalekov was getting anxious. He could not fit in their conversations. He thought it would be best if he left and went home to his parents. He said goodbye and ignoring the pleas to stay a little longer, he hurried to get home. He found the house locked up and very messy. He felt his soul clench. He dropped his bags at the door and went to the neighbour. He never expected the neighbour to recognize him. Neither did he expect to find a familiar face behind the colourful house he left in 1941. A man appeared from behind the door.

“Are you looking for someone?” he asked indifferently.

Stoian Dzhavalekov smiled a sad smile.

“Are you looking for someone?” the man asked a second time.

“I am looking for your neighbours”, said Stoian unimpressed. “The people who lived there, Mitre and Natka… I am looking for them,” said Stoian barely muttering.

“They died about seven years ago,” replied the man quietly. “Surely you must have come a long way?”

“Yes, I have come a long way. From the Soviet Union,” replied Stoian. “They were my parents…” he said with tears pooling in his eyes. The man then turned around and without saying goodbye shut the door. Stoian stood there thinking of what to do. He returned to his home, broke the lock and went inside. He looked around. He remembered the cupboard where they kept jars of aivar and as a child he used to climb on a chair to get to it. Everything seemed like he left it on the day he left home to join the partisans. Even the lamp seemed to be the same from thirty years ago. He looked out the little windows, sat on the bed and covered his face with his hands. His desire that inspired him to return to his homeland, his courage and strength were all sapped out of him. He felt very weak and tired. He fell asleep.