Gypsy in Black: The Romance of Gypsy Travelers (10 page)

“
Why?
”

“
Last night, my bori, the cer
emony was to join you with this
Machwaiya kumpania.  All bori
and romni wear diklos, see?  It
is...how do you say...an honor?
”
Sahara's eyes travelled to th
e ground as she sought the rock
that had slipped out of her f
ingers.
He reached out for her chin and tilted he
r head so that her eyes met his
. 
“
You must understand. 
I would lose face if I didn’t reprimand you in front of the people.  I am the future leader, bori. I must always be strong, yes?
”

Sahara put
her hand on top of his.  The press
ure of his hand on her bare leg
sent tingles up her spine, esp
ecially when she met his gaze. 
“
Nicolae
,
”
she said softly. 
“
If no on
e explains your
customs to me,
how can I obey them?
”
  The softness in her
voice warmed him.  She
noticed the change in his eyes imm
ediately. 
“
Nicolae
, you don't know
how dreadful it is!  I don't know
anyone here.  No one but you.
”
She fought back the tears in
her eyes. 
“
I feel so lost, Nic
olae.  Where am I going?  What am I to do?  I have no home, no family, no place to go to.  If I stay with you and your people, I have to give up everything I know but
, in reality,
I have nothing left
to give
.
”
  The tears starting to stream down her cheeks. 
“
Y
ou're the
only one who's made me feel safe
, who even talks to me
.
  I am so lost.
”
 

“
S'hara,
you are not lost but found
,
”
he whispered
.
 

“
Found,
”
she repeated as if tasting the word on her lips. 

“
And now, you are just tired
, yes? 
Exhausted from drinking so much rak
iya and dancing so fierce last n
ight.
”
  He wiped away the tears. 
“
Perhaps you ought to get some food then nap, yes?  Would
that make you feel better?
”
 

Nicolae
lead her to where the
Rom Baro
's wife stood near a large
cauldron.  Ignoring the w
oman's shocked look at Sahara's
uncovered head,
Nicolae
ordered the woman to bring Sahara some
bean
soup. 
Obediently
, the old woma
n sought a clay bowl similar to
the one Sahara had used the nig
ht before.  The woman filled it
with the thick, brown soup.
  Steam rose from it, the smell
filling Sahara's stomach without
even tasting it. 
Nicolae
took the
coarse bowl and handed it to Sahara. 
“
Fa
us
i, my bori.
”

Not understanding what he ha
d said, Sahara took the word to
be
a blessing over her food. 
“
Fa
u
s
i to you too,
Nicolae
.
”

Nicolae
looked at her, puzzled
for only a brief moment.  As he
realized what she had meant,
he laughed.  He reached out an
d
tugged playfully at her hair. 
“
Fa
us
i is bean soup.
”

Sahara smiled innocent
ly, holding back her own amused
laughter to avoid drawing
more
atten
tion. 
She didn’t l
ike how the people avoided her.  No one spoke to her but they were constantly staring at
her all the time
, watching and
talking to each other in low tones with that foreign tongue
.
Sahara glanced at her companion.
“
Perhaps you will teach me the
gypsy language?
”

“
It is no different than yours.
”

Sahara lifted the bowl to her lips, tilting it only slightly
to drink the juice. 
“
Your kumpania speaks English?
”

Nicolae
nodded, his eyes observi
ng a small group of younger men
seated in
the shadow of a wagon,
polishing their black, leather
boots. 
“
We are in America,
yes?  Then we speak the English
language.
”

“
So what are these fore
ign words?  I've never heard of
`kumpania' and `fa
u
s
i' or `
Rom Baro
'.  And everyone has an a
ccent...
”

Smiling as he explain
ed to her,
Nicolae
spoke solemnly. 
“
S'hara, the Machwaiya kumpa
nia is a mixture of Serbian and
English gypsies.  We are from E
urope, yes.  But my grandfather
le
d his kumpania out of the Old
World and brought us here.  You must understand one thing,
my bo
ri.  No one likes the gypsies. 
So we move from place to pl
ace, never settling down, never
adjusting to life in America.  Only
transporting our European
culture to a new land, yes?  And t
hese words...they are a mixture
of many cultures.  But they ar
e our culture.  It is easier to
speak English in America but a
mong
us
, some words have
remained.  It is not our language.  We a
re not worthy of a
language to call our
own,
just
as we are
not worthy of a land to claim. 
Does that make sense to you, S'hara?
”

A silence fell over them.  Sahara looked a
round curiously,
her eyes resting on a group of
the younger men.  Already they
drank the rakiya, even though most of them had just awoken.  A
couple of the men walked
around
the corner of a wagon, leading
several horses into the clearing.  A large black st
allion with a
half white mane bucked and kick
ed as a rowdy man tried to jump
upon its back.  The other men
laughed as he fell off, rolling
quickly away from the furious s
tallion's feet. 
Nicolae
glanced at
Sahara, surprised to see her eyes wide and curious. 
“
That horse interests
you, yes?
”

Sahara tore her attent
ion away from the horse. 
“
He's
magnificent!
”

Nicolae
nodded his head once.
 
“
That he is.  But he is wild,
yes?
”

Sahara looked back at the gal
loping horse.  Several men were
holding onto the rope that was
tied around its neck.  A tall,
lanky man with a bare ches
t and leather strand around his
forehead grabbed a stick that
lay
nearby.  Raising it above his
head, he smashed it against the
stallion's back. 
“
Oh!
”
Sahara
cried out, her stomach suddenly churni
ng.  As the man raised the
stick over his head
again, Sahara turned quickly to
Nicolae
. 
“
You
must stop him!  He'll kill the poor beast before anything else!
”

Nicolae
took a deep breath, re
luctant to interfere. 
“
Sahara,
however the men choose to tame their horse
s is not my concern. 
Nor should it be yours.
”

Hurting for the poor beaten
horse, Sahara could only watch
as the one gypsy man continued to
thrash the beautiful stallion. 
She winced when blood ran down
the horse's flank.  Turning her
head away, she
whispered, 
“
Please, Nicolae
, I
cannot stand to
watch!
”

With a nod of his head,
Nicolae
le
d Sahara
away from the area.  He took her
back to
the tent she had awoken in the
previous morning.  He pulled the
canvas back, waiting for Sahara
to duck under his arm before he followed her i
nside.  The flaps closed behind him with a soft swoosh
.  Alone inside the tent,
Nicolae
watched Sahara as she stood with h
er back to him.  The scene with
the horse had visibly frightened
her. 
Nicolae
made a mental note to
tell the men not to tame the horses near
camp for a while. 
“
I am
sorry,
”
he began,
“
that you saw that, S'hara.
”
 

Slowly, she turned around.  H
er face was blank as she stared
at him.
“
I am sorry that it happened,
”
she responded. 
“
How can I belong to such a people
, Nicolae? I don’t understand anything and, that
which I do understand, I don’t
care for at all.
”

Nicolae
stared
back, curious about her words b
ut he did not ask. 
There was a pain in her expression, a sorrow that tugged at his heart.  He wasn’t certain how to respond.  He had never questioned the gypsy way.  He knew nothing else.  Yet, when he saw her face, her eyes so teary, he knew that she was seeing the life from a new perspective, one that he had not consid
ered before her arrival.  B
eing the future Rom Baro left him with little choices.  He knew that years of history would not be changed in one day or even one year. 
He found himself drawn to her and, without thinking, he
pull
ed
her i
nto his arms. 

For several long
minutes, Sahara let him hold her, finding comfort in his arm
s
that had frightened her
just
a short
while before.  Her body tucked
neatly against his and she felt
his heart pounding against her
chest. 
She hated
herself for feeling
a rush
of emotion in the arms of this man.  She felt protected and safe.  But, she also felt dangerously close to something else, something that she could not describe.  It was a surreal feeling and, for a split second
, Sahara tried to push him away. 
Nicolae
ignored her
struggle and
lo
wered his mouth onto hers. 
His kiss took her by surprise and, for the briefest of moments,
Sahara
refused to yield.  But as his ar
m crushed her even tighter, the
burning sensation in her stomach spread until she shut her
eyes
and let the
handsome gypsy force her mouth
open.  The t
ension left her as she leaned against him, the fight gone in final acceptance of the passion she had tried so hard to deny.