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To Be In The Wrong Place At The Right Time



All the streets are empty after midnight. A car stops next to the sidewalk. At the same time, a nicely dressed young woman stops not too far away from the car. She leans against a pylon. She is leaning forward and it is difficult to decide if she is about to throw up because she has consumed too much alcohol or any other substance or she is simply crying. She doesn't feel very well, that's sure.

'Can I help?'
'No, you can't.'
She is talking slowly and haltingly.
'Why are you on the street at this hour? All alone? This is not okay. Why aren't you home?'
'My husband threw me out. He kicked me out. I can't go home until morning. I'm just worried about my child. My daughter. Because my son has died. But I'll go home in the morning. If only my child were well. But she is not alone. She is sleeping next to his father. It's just me who is not with her. But he doesn't have the right to take her away from me. I'll go back to her in the morning.'
'Are you sure I can't help?' Shall I give you a lift? To home? Or someplace where you can spend the night? You shouldn't stay here.'
'No, you can't help, just go on and enjoy yourself. Have a lovely evening.’
'Won't you drink a coffee with me? Let's see if the tobacco shop is still open.
Coffee might help to clear your mind and relax a bit.'
'No, it is not open. It closed at 11 pm.'
'There is a petrol station nearby. Let's go there. Let's have a coffee. And eat something.'

She gets her coffee. She is talking. She is ashamed. This is a shame what's happening with her. But she keeps telling her story. Her son was born with a heart condition and he died when he was 3-month-old. It hurts too much, even though there is her little daughter too. How can life go on after this? He inherited the disease from her. She has heart problems too. But she is alive. Existence has become way too hard. Her husband drinks. He didn't use to drink. He shouts.

‘He argues that it was my fault. He has even beat me. But it wasn't my fault. I didn't do anything wrong. I took care of him. I don't want to leave him. I love him, that's why I married him. He is a good man. He accuses me of things that are not true. I never cheated on him.’
She can't go home, just in the morning, when things calm down. When the husband leaves for work and she has to take the little girl to the kindergarten. Happier memories follow. Her parents who love her and have always taken care of her. Even when she was taken out of the family, they did everything to get her back home from child protection and live together again. She only spent a short time, few years in the foster home. But she wants to take care of her daughter. Make it sure that she's well. That she has everything. That she is safe. She lost her son. She can't lose her daughter.

They can't stay talking at the petrol station till morning. She shall look for some solution, some place to stay. Who can she go to? Nobody. She has no friends. Just one. But she is asleep by now. And she left her phone home, she can't call her. There is someone else, pops into her mind. She has spent a night at her place once, when her husband kicked her out. She could go there. She always stays up late, watching movies.

'Does she live nearby?'
'Yes, right next to the playground. Bring me back to the tobacco shop and I'll walk from there.'
She doesn't want him to take her to the house but she is very grateful for everything.
'Thank you. The coffee was very good.'
'Are you sure you can go there? Do you promise that you won't stay on the street?'
'I do. I've slept there before. She will let me in. Don't bring me home. Because of my husband. I can't go home. Only in the morning.
She gets out of the car where they met. She takes the sandwiches and the mineral water that she got from him. She lights up and sets out in the direction that she said before.

The driver is looking after her and smiles because he realizes that he mixed up the identical blocks, he should have parked at the another house. Not where he noticed the confused and desperate woman leaning against a pylon. He was in the wrong place at the right time...


The article was written by the students of Bocskai István Protestant Educational Centre Apáczay Csere János High School at a Roma Heroes workshop of Independent Theatre.
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