La Vita e Bella

La Vita é Bella

The whirring and wheezing sounds that emanated from the old train seemed to get louder with each mile covered. Anita sat, hurdled up in a corner, bound in place by an overweight woman on the right of her and a crate of live chickens underneath her booted feet. Somewhere above her head, she felt her skull weighed down by what she guessed were luggage that had nowhere to go. Now and then one of the bags seemed to assume sentiency and move a little despite being untouched and she shuddered at the thought of what it could be, but decided to refrain from knowing. Knowledge, contrary to what she had been told all her life was not necessarily always good, as she had to find out the hard way the day before.

“You’re too young to understand. You cannot always be right. You are in fact seldom right if you think you are…”

What had she meant by that? How could she have possibly been wrong in this situation? Who was instantly antagonized after discovering that the perfect ideals of family they held on to for so long was crushed and sent to the pits? Whose fault was it that she was born where she was? Was it hers? What should she have done? What could anyone have done? She held on to a book that she could not read. It was in another language, but a language she fancied nonetheless. The words La Vita é Bella stood distinctly on the cover page. Its yellow covers had been frayed along the edges and looked a good deal older than it ought to be, being a book she had only just purchased. A strong stench weighed heavily on her senses and in spite of the sentient luggage, she managed to look up. A tall, dark and heavily built man held on to a black, burly goat as though it were a child. Black pebbles dropped rapidly from the animal’s rear end and Anita grimaced. Surely, this was a less than ideal situation, but to her it was a million times preferable to the unfathomable enigma that was her family. Her mind revisited the scene the previous day; the day she decided that being in a different part of the world and as far away as possible from her family was the healing she needed. She looked into the nothingness seemingly present in the gathering clouds above as she recalled the smirk on the woman’s face, her mother’s helpless disposition and her father’s indifference. It was painful; most painful indeed. Despite his unfaithfulness, scorn, contempt and the varied wounds he inflicted on her she let him… The large woman interrupted her trail of thought as she spoke in incoherent English “Shift ah...Miss” She had not understood for less than a moment but finally did. The tall man with the burly goat sort admittance on the seat. This was nearly impossible to achieve and she wondered what sort of physical laws would have to be altered so the man could be seated on the space that could barely be wide enough for a small child. The man looked upon her pleadingly. She realized that she would have to do the impossible and be nearly smashed against the window of the moving train so he could be seated. She tried. She twisted her body in ways she never knew possible and contorted impressively so much that the living luggage was startled and rebelled at the unwelcome change in its sitting arrangement. Now the bag fell from the top of her head, towards her neck and she felt the familiar movement but refrained from having a look even then. The man was grateful even though he could only sit halfway and she was grateful she had a sit despite the obvious inconvenience. Her mind in its idle wanderings rested once more on her family.

“You must learn to be patient Anita. You have to understand that people cannot change as easily as we would want them…”

She remembered the cries and pleas that she should return home as she slammed the door behind her, leaving the sleepy town with only a handful of items. She also remembered that smirk…She recalled the smirk in the brooding darkness, the woman who had forcefully ripped apart what was only a delicate thread of a family that she could hold on to. Now she wondered who she was. Perhaps it was fitting to say that her mother was a timid and weak woman and her father a heartless brute, but what would that make her? Both her parents were alive and yet they were dead to her. Life was nothing but misery; a misery she willingly and wholeheartedly accepted, a misery she would rather have than face the people who begot her. She grew noticeably paler at this point – if anyone cared to notice – and decided to divert her thoughts by looking about her in the crowded train. By her, past the overweight man, woman, and the excreting animals sat triplets and an exhausted mother whose wrinkles stood visibly against her fair skin. She glanced at Anita who could see drooping eyelids and eye bags to match. She held in her hands a toddler who could not have been more than a year old. Anita wondered if such a future was her fate. Without the support she needed would she settle and bear numerous children into the same miserable world? Perhaps for a father who would not even realize that the product of his seed walked the earth amidst nightly rounds of intoxicating drink? She felt an elbow slightly brush her stomach and turned slightly (fearing the luggage would awake) to face the overweight woman exchanging what she guessed were aggressive words with the man holding the sturdy goat. They argued as though they were a married couple and despite their indecipherable language, she knew what a fighting couple looked like. In front of her, she could barely notice the head of a slim figure, poise, quiet and distant who appeared to be a priest or religious personage of some kind. By his right sat three noisy farmers in straw hats carrying with them a myriad of crops and farm animals. Two women sat adjacent to her engaged in stimulating gossip and beyond them sat a significant number of farmers. Anita sunk in her chair. What was that she felt? Was it regret?

“If you leave Anita, you would regret this! Anita! Anita! Please…” She heard no more as the car drove off letting her mother’s loud wails be no more than faint cries in the distance.

She was jolted from her thoughts once more to face a heated, crowded train. Everyone seemed to be in a heated conversation, even the animals. They all spoke the language she could not understand, but the image of conflict was universal.

Anita could take in no more conflict and sunk in her chair even more. She seemed detached from her surroundings and could almost hear no one. She looked down at the old book once more. A teardrop fell, caressing its length. Her eyes burned. She missed them. In spite of the emotional turmoil she had to undergo, she missed them deeply. She looked at the words once more:

La Vita é Bella

What did it mean? At that moment, the train was silent. The silence was so noticeably loud in the mind of the pondering teenager that she looked up again and found facing her the most beautiful thing that she had ever seen. In the frame through which she could see the outside world, beyond the putrid smells and the discomfort of the train, she gazed upon lush fertile lands and birds of varying colors flying above the fields. The meadows bloomed with a myriad of bright colors as breathtaking flowers covered the earth. Farmers stood waving in the distance, herding sheep over the bucolic landscape and children played in clear blue and enchanting waters. She extended her neck past the window frame, unaware of the falling bag and inhaled the brisk air refreshingly. It was in fact the most beautiful place she had ever seen.

“What…what is this place?” She asked no one in particular and no one responded. Despite having passed here before, most of the passengers were mesmerized by the stunning view. She did not realize when her tears flowed freely, leaving her book almost drenched. The quiet priest looked at her silently. She finally noticed his gaze and when she did, he whispered, motioning to her book and glancing at the view:

“La vita é bella.”

She looked at the moist yellow cover and repeated; “La vita é bella” until she found herself laughing, as a sudden joy she could not understand encompassed her. She made up her mind to forgive them, to go back to them and repeat the words, “La vita é bella”, with the beautiful scenery she beheld forever in her mind.