The future thief

‘It says here you want a new birth certificate.’ the civil servant said already sounding bored.

This was her last case of the day. She was hoping she could get rid of it quickly.Her eyes glided down the page, skim reading the request she had been handed. All the fields looked like they had been filled in correctly. In her years of working in the civil service, Mimi could attest that this was a very rare occurrence.

Working in the civil service in a former communist country was dull and repetitive, but she didn't mind this part of the job that much. It was the people part of the job that she hated the most. Forms and applications were predictable. Tidy. Easy to understand. Unlike people, forms never shouted or swore at you because their requests would take 10 business days to process or because they had messed up their application and would have to resubmit.

‘Yes, that is correct,’ the woman sat opposite her patiently confirmed.

‘Did you submit the form saying how you lost the original? Form GH23?’ Mimi, the civil servant asked, raising her eyes to look at the old woman.

Per the form, she was 84 years old. She dressed in a modern way, her clothes fitted, ironed and well accessorised, quite unexpected for women her age, especially in that part of the country.

‘It doesn’t fit any of the boxes on the form. The original was taken away by the authorities,’ The old woman began. ‘So, I had to book the appointment to go through the case with you in person.’

‘The authorities don’t confiscate birth certificates, madam. Do you think you could have been the victim of fraud?’

This was a classic case. She saw at least five of these a week. The elderly had a tendency to fall for a lot of scams.

‘No. It was confiscated by the Communist Party. There is not a box for that.’

Mimi raised her eyebrows. This was unexpected. It had been 31 years since the Communist Party had lost power in Romania so she was not sure what to make of that statement.

‘I have this document,’ the old woman handed over an old, handwritten piece of paper.

Mimi recognised a large stamp in the corner with the emblem of the Communist Party and noted the signature of, presumably a party member, right next to it.

She had seen something like that in the archives and could tell that even handwritten, this was legitimate. The document titled “Replacement Birth Certificate” attested that the original birth certificate had been lost but that Tana Gheorghe, female, was born in 1938 in Casimcea, Galati district, to Ecaterina Gheorghe, mother, and an unknown father. The party member in question signed, on her honour, that all the information presented was correct.

‘You see, the city hall at the time revoked my birth certificate and issued this document instead.' she pointed to the piece of paper. 'It amends my parentage to my aunt rather than my actual parents.’

‘Surely it would be the other way around. At least in those days wasn’t it more shameful to not know who the father was?’

‘Not if the father is an enemy of the people.’

Mimi opened her mouth but didn’t say anything. She decided to give the old woman her full attention.

‘He was sent to jail when I was 12 for instigating a riot against the Communist Party. We obviously knew that wasn’t true, but back then they were covering up all the murders and the death train, so at the time we never knew the truth.’

‘Death train?’

‘They used to do that with anyone who wouldn’t give in to the party wishes. My father owned a lot of farmland in the Galati County. The Communist Party wanted to confiscate it, make my father still work the land, and keep the proceeds. He and the other landowning farmers were obviously not happy with that. They were told they could argue their case in front of a judge in Bucharest and that he could potentially overturn the decision. And so, they boarded a train to go there…'

The old woman looked down to avoid eye contact. Mimi could almost see there were tears forming in her eyes but the old woman kept looking away as she continued the story.

‘We should have known something was wrong because armed military were on the same train. That wasn't just a coincidence back then, but we were naive. From what I am told from investigations, somewhere remote the driver pretended that the train had a fault and asked everyone to disembark. You can imagine all these men unsuspectingly got out of the train to stretch their legs. I can imagine my father probably complained about how bad those old trains were.' she paused again. 'I always wonder if the last words he spoke were to complain about something.' at this point the first tears started rolling down the old woman's cheek. 'You see, the military was given clear instructions from when they left the station. They were to let everyone else off the train and then while they were walking away from the train, execute them all.'

Mimi felt a chill running down her spine. Tana Gheorghe pulled out a handkerchief from her pocket and wiped her tears. She looked at Mimi again.

‘Of course, we didn't know the reality. Days passed and the farmers never returned. One day we got a letter from the police. They made it sound like the farmers had been plotting a riot. They said there was evidence. We knew that was not true. These were simple people who spent all their days working their lands, many of them could barely read or write. My father especially would not do anything of that caliber. He had four children to feed, there was no way he would endanger his family or his livelihood.’

She was showing her frustration at how ridiculous those allegations were but then regained her composure.

‘But the Party decided what It was always going to decide, and we weren’t even allowed to contact him to hear his version of the story.’

‘Did they tell you he was still alive?' Mimi asked.

‘They did. They said he was in prison and that we could write to him if he wanted. My mother, however, believed that the Party would be reading any letters sent to him to try to uncover more co-conspirators. That would create more problems for the family. I never really knew what my mother thought of the whole situation. She never argued or fought for his innocence, she told us children we'd never get to see our father again and then she carried on and never brought up the subject.

'After all of this, we felt ashamed and afraid. We grieved silently so mother couldn't reprimand us. It was a heavy grief to carry - one full of unknowns because you allow yourself to believe that there might be hope and as time passes you begin to mourn the loss of hope bit by bit. We only found out what really happened in 1992 because my younger sister found out that he was never jailed. They believe his body is one of many in a communal grave outside of Harsova where the train would have stopped.’

Mimi shuddered.

‘Besides, his situation made it difficult for the family in our small town where everyone had heard rumours of the made-up riot. My mother had to take another job, a lower-paid one because she had ties with someone who had spoken up against the regime. My older brother was expelled from school. I was lucky enough to stay in school, so I guess I had an easier ride than the rest of my siblings.’

‘Why did they allow you to stay in school?’ Mimi asked.

‘I thought it was because I was clever and that made me better than the rest of my siblings. I found out later that it was because of my classmate Angela. She sat next to me in school. Poor thing struggled a lot, so I let her copy my homework and look at my test papers to cheat. I was so proud of myself. I felt that I was so smart that I passed each semester twice. In my arrogance, I thought the whole situation was so easy, and that I was so good at covering my tracks that no one even suspected I was helping her. It turns out I was completely wrong.'

She leaned in closer to the desk as if to share a secret. Mimi immediately leaned in, curiosity breaking down all barriers she had as a professional civil servant.

‘You see, everyone knew how Angela got her grades. The teachers were turning a blind eye to it because Angela’s mother was a Party member. She knew her daughter was not that bright, so she pulled some strings to keep me in school as long as I was sitting next to her so that her dear Angela could get a passing grade. None of the teachers would dare speak up against this woman, so the chance arose for me.’

As Mimi was listening to the story, there was something nagging at her at the mention of Party members. She looked down at her desk where the handwritten piece of paper lay and tried to make out the signature next to the stamp– Mirela Matei, Romanian Communist Party.

Mimi raised her eyes from the piece of paper.

'Is this -' she began but she didn't need to continue.

The old woman nodded and Mimi understood it all now- Mirela Matei was the person who changed the birth records.

‘When we were 14, Angela’s mother suggested to my mother that Angela and I should apply to a bookkeeping school in Constanta - after all we were the smartest girls in our class. This was a big opportunity so my mother agreed to send me there under the care of Angela's mother. The trouble was that I could not be admitted to the entry exam in a proper school with a political prisoner as a father. It was Mirela Matei who had the idea to change my birth certificate. My mother felt like this was a way to secure a better future for me so she lied to the authorities that she was only taking care of me because my aunt, or better said, my "real mother" was blind. With a party member there, vouching for the information, no one even bothered to validate the facts. I was home clear'

Tana paused and stared at the corner of the room.

‘We traveled to Constanta to sit the exam. Mirela's mother came with us and even spoke to the invigilator before we started.

'The exam itself was easy but the experience was strange. I didn’t question it at the time, of course, but I realised later what had actually happened. After I had finished writing my answers down, the invigilator told me there was no need to write my name on the paper. I did exactly as he said and handed in the paper.'

Mimi felt her heart sink at the thought of that little girl hopeful that she would be rewarded for her intelligence.

‘You failed the test, didn't you?’ she asked knowing what would come next.

‘So I was told, with a very low mark. Dear Angela… well, it turns out she had a perfect score and got a place in the course.'

‘That corrupt little…’ Mimi started but quickly snapped back together remembering she was a public servant and what she was going to say was inappropriate.

‘It was not her fault. It was her mother’s doing and her mother was so boisterous of her daughter's results. My mother, on the other hand, was devastated. She blamed me. She had gone through all that trouble, and I didn’t pull my weight to get in,’ the old woman shrugged smiling faintly. ‘She took me out of school after I finished the year so I could work and contribute with money to the household.’

‘But you were so good at school people must have caught on. Why didn’t you tell her the truth?’

‘I don’t think it would have changed a thing.’

‘Your entire future was stolen from you…’

‘It’s all water under the bridge. I became a seamstress and made dresses. I actually enjoyed doing that. I met a nice boy, life moved in its natural way and I never looked back.’

‘You’re looking back now though. Why are you here?’

‘I’m setting my affairs in order. My two sons live in Spain and I’m moving there to be closer to the grandchildren.’

‘I understand,’ Mimi said empathetically. ‘I’ll put in the request to the Records Department, and you will get the original reissued. I'll even expedite it so you get it next week.’ she added with a faint smile. Mimi hesitated before continuing to talk. ‘Do you mind if I ask what ever happened to Angela? How was she able to cope in the new school without you there?’

‘She wasn't. She failed the first semester and got expelled.’

The effects of karma made Mimi grin. The old woman looked away again. Mimi knew that was her tell that a sad part of the story was coming.

‘She died in the Romanian Revolution. Ironic, isn’t it? She fought against the system that gave her a privileged life.’

Mimi didn’t know what to say. The clock behind her made a faint noise that it was already 5 p.m.

‘Is that the time?’ the old woman asked. ‘I best be off and let you close up.’

She got up.

'Thank you for your help miss...and for hearing out an old lady and her life story.' she extended her hand.

Mimi got up from her seat and shook it.

'I feel sorry that there isn't any more I can do. You could have had a different life.'

‘You shouldn’t feel sorry for me, dear. Angela's mother didn’t steal my future, she just gifted me a different one.’

Author's note: While the situation is made up, the story of what happened to Tana, my great aunt, and her family - my family - is real. I uncovered a lot while fact-checking this story and realised that reality has a far darker sense of plot twists than I do, as a writer. This might be one subject for another story though...