Fortune In Moldova

Cameras flash. I smile. My hand is sticky with sweat as I reach for Igor Dodon’s hand, the president of Moldova. As we shake hands, reporters shout, pushing their own camera operator to the front of the crowd. I stand feeling very aware of what I am doing with my arms as a man in a crisp tuxedo marches to the podium holding an award made of glass. The award flashes as it catches the glare of the sun. As I am presented the award the camera’s click more violently. A few minutes later I am amid the crowd, questions firing from every direction, a dozen microphones inches from my face.

“Did you always know that you were going to be a hero?” Was one of the first questions.

Honestly, I didn’t even know where Moldova was about 2 weeks ago. I’m from Manhattan. I have lived there my whole life. I live on the 3rd floor of an apartment that doesn’t have air conditioning. I work at a store that sells carpet on 43rd. I had a fish named sock but it died a few months ago. I watch TV when I’m not at work. Hero was never in my life plan. 

“I did actually,” The words came easily, I was in a play in middle school once, only had one line but I know how to play a part. “I seemed to just always feel it in my bones.” I display another smile.

“What brought you to Moldova in the first place?” 

The truth is it was completely by accident. Let me explain: My mom and her husband, Garry, take a trip every 5 years and insist on me and my brother to come along. I have never gone with them (like i explained before i’m not a very exciting person to begin with). But sometime last May when I sat down with a microwave dinner on my lap and played my messages I heard my mom’s voice saying they were going to Paris. I had had excuses every time they went someplace why I didn't want to go. Iceland, too cold. Belize, too exotic. China, too crowded. But no excuse came to my mind for Paris. So two months later I boarded a plane. Paris was incredible. It was my second time ever leaving the U.S. my first time was when I was 7 and we went to a resort in Mexico as a family. The trip was 9 days in total but it went by fast. My mom and Garry left in the morning and my plane was scheduled for departure later that night. Here’s the thing, working at a carpet store and living in Manhattan doesn't necessarily give you extra cash so I had to book a flight to a smaller airport in the south of France and from there I would fly to London and then back home. It was the cheapest route. You would think that with my mom always begging for me to come on their trips that she would pitch in for the ticket, but she works at a credit union in Florida, she moved there when she and Garry got married, so she isn’t exactly generous with her wallet. 

The day of my departure was hectic. I woke up really late, I didn’t do well adjusting to jet late, which led to me getting out of my hotel later than planned and caused me to miss my appointment to have a guided tour through the city, it was something I found on TripAdvisor. Because of this I had a few hours open so I walked around the city on my own. This sounds like a nice thing to do in Paris but after a while my feet started to hurt so I decided to take the metro back to the hotel. Only when I stopped to take a picture near where I was staying that I realized my phone was gone. Suddenly that smiling lady in the beanie sitting next to me on the metro made more sense. Panicked I hurried back to my hotel and spent the next hour and a half sitting on my bed having no spark of genius on what to do. The only copy of my ticket had been on my phone so I couldn’t remember if i needed to get to the airport at 7 pm or if my flight left at 7 pm. Thinking it would be safer to go with the later, I took a taxi to the airport fairly early. The man at the counter with a silk scarf around his neck informed me that my flight was in fact scheduled to leave at 7 pm. I felt relaxed and sat down to eat at McDonalds once through customs. I seemed to have miscalculated my timing, however, when I looked at my watch and realized that it was 6:47 pm. I rushed through the airport feeling like I was in a movie trying to stop the person that I loved from getting on a plane and moving to a foreign country. Apparently Mcdonalds and gate C40 were on opposite sides of the vicinity and by the time I arrived panting at the gate it had been closed and locked. Alarmed, I looked round for some support and found a sign that read service clients with customer service below it. The woman wearing a crisp red uniform sat behind the desk and watched me as I approached. I explained my situation. She informed me that the next flight to the airport down south was in 8 hours. Asking if there was any other option to get me to flight from London to back home on time. She told me that there was a flight in an hour to Moldova and from there I would be able to fly to London for about the same price as my original ticket. Not knowing exactly where I was going, I boarded a flight to Moldova. 

“I am adventurous and I like to explore new places.” Is my response to the reporter.

“Why were you in the village in the first place?”

As I was walking, suitcase rolling behind me through the Moldovan airport, I saw an unexpected familiar face. Remember how I had said that I was in a middle school play? Avery Martin was the led and we were best friends for the summer. I had seen her a few years ago walking down a street in Manhattan and she had said she was visiting from Main. We had talked for awhile but haven't talked scene. There she was with an overflowing backpacking pack. She smiled and waved. We talked for a while, just standing with people hurrying past. I told her how I had missed my flight and how it had led me here and she told me that she was doing a month long backpacking trip through eastern Europe and this was her last stop. She paused in the middle of telling me about an old woman she had met in Bulgaria and asked if I wanted to join her on her last stretch of her journey. I quickly turn her down mumbling about carpet sales. She then said that she had forgotten that I wasn't the spontaneous type. And I had argued that I was when I wanted to be. She had gone on to tell me that if that was the case then I should come. Turns out she had planned this trip with a friend and had everything booked for two but her friend had canceled last minute because of a family emergency. After a lot of convincing I said that I would stay the night in the hotel she was staying at because I wanted to see a little of Moldova. I learned that she was staying in a village 4 hours from the airport 30 minutes into the bouncing car ride. 

“I wanted to experience the realness of your country first hand.” I said to a stout reporter wearing a bow tie.

“How did it happen?”

The next morning I woke up to a faint chattering from the street below. I got dressed and found Avery who was packing her bag ferociously and told me to do the same. When I had asked her what was going on she told me the city was under a major attack by tree roaches and that we had to leave. Not really understanding what was going on I hurried and packed my suitcase. As we ran out the door of the hotel I was bombarded with insects and people running for cover. It looked like a scene from a low budget sci-fi movie from the 90s. I looked around frantically for a cab and in doing so saw an old woman appeared from behind a pealing blue door in the building next to me. Her wrinkled skin sagging on her face was wrapped in a thin scarf tied around her head and under her chin. She was holding a small flashlight and a head of lettuce. No one else in the square seemed to notice her, they were all too busy running for cover from the tree roaches.

“It all happened so fast.” I answered another reporter.

“Can you tell us how you did it? How you single-handedly saved the village?”

Okay, here's the thing I wouldn’t say single-handedly. Let me explain, I stood there watching the old lady. She blew on the head of lettuce then suddenly threw the lettuce through the air and shown the flashlight on it as it soared. Instantly the tree roaches followed it and vanished from sight. The second they had disappeared the old lady fell dead. Everyone stopped realizing that the treat was gone and looked around at where the lettuce had come from. I was standing there shocked. People cheered and ran towards me, lifting me into the air. I realized that Avery had gotten into a a cab and rode off without me. The rest of the day I was shaking hands and being thanked again and again. I was about to ruin the fun and tell them that I had nothing to do with it when a small boy approached me and said that I was his hero. Okay i know what you are all thinking, how could you take credit for something you didn’t do? How could you accept an award? But 1, by the time I had a chance to tell someone it wasn’t me, it was too late, and 2, I had never done anything remotely noteworthy before and it felt, nice. I had been rushed off to interviews and I had a small fan club around me wherever I went. I was wondering why it was such a big deal to save one village from bugs but apparently this village had been famously struggling with this problem for 100 years and no one had ever had a solution. 

“It just came naturally.” I said into the microphones. Just then my phone rang. I know you’re thinking, wait wasn't it stolen? But the Moldovans were very grateful for my service and were generous with their gifts. I looked at the phone, it was my mom. I told the earnest reporters to hold on as I pushed through the crowd towards the exit.

“Mom? Hello. Can you hear me?”

“Hello sweetie, Gerry and are in New York. Gerry’s cousin had some event that he inserted that we fly in for, anyway I know we saw you just a week ago, but we thought that it would be nice to have dinner.”

“Oh-” I started but she pressed on.

“Gerry said that we should call in case you had plans but I told him you never have plans, so we showed up and called your apartment to be buzzed in, but you didn’t answer. I’m confused, what in the world could you be doing on a Thursday night?” I look through the doors leading back into the conference hall where journalists, reporters, cameras and the president of Moldova, stand waiting for me. I smile.