Gypsy in Black: The Romance of Gypsy Travelers (4 page)

Proudly, he straightened hi
s back as he towered over her. 
“
I am
Nicolae
, son of the
Rom Baro
of this Machwaiya vista's
kumpania.
”
  
He seemed proud of what he said, as if she should be impressed, but h
is announcement mea
nt nothing to her.  When he saw
that,
Nicolae
took a deep breath and
leaned against the
wagon again.  Idly, his fingers
moved toward with the edge
of a washboard hanging nearby. 
Quietly, he fingered the rough woo
d.  A splinter caught under his
nail.  Wincing, he sucked it out. 
“
Why do you wish to see
Rom Baro
?
”

“
I want to go home.
”
 

His laughter echoed thro
ughout the camp at her innocent
confession.  Several people glanced at the
Rom Baro
's son.
They
smiled to themselves and retu
rned to their work.  When
Nicolae
's
amused laughter finally ceased,
he stared at her
, a somber expression on his face
. 
“
You want to
go home, yes?
”

She sensed the sarcasm in his question.  Glaring at him
, Sahara
put her hands on her hips, too
aware that the clothing
she wore hugged her body, sh
owing off her petite waist and
full bosom. 
“
I
see nothing entertaining about
that!
”

Nicolae
sobered up, crossing
his arms over his chest again. 
“
You wish to go home?  To what?
”
His eyes met hers, immediately
sending a chill down her spine.
  There was something dark and serious in his gaze.  When he looked at her, he stared through her. 
His eyes were almost black and s
he felt as if he could see her soul.
She wondered if he could read her thoughts and it
further
unnerved her to suspect that he could.

Softly, Sahara replied,
“
To my father and the tavern.
”
 

Nodding,
Nicolae
watched her care
fully
, his gaze still steady
and his eyes penetrating deep into her own.
 
“
I see.
”  He
paused
, as though choosing his next words carefully.  When he did speak, the smoothness of his voice disappeared behind the harshness of his words.
 
“
You want to go home to
your father
, yes
?  The man that gambled
you away?  The man that fought
so
valiantly
for you after he lost
?
”
 
The emphasis on the word valiantly
caused
Sahara
to
shift her
weight, her eyes breaking his gaze
as she looked away. 
He had struck a raw nerve. 
Daringly,
Nicolae
reached out and touched her c
hin, waiting for Sahara to look
back at him. 
He
gave her a soft smile
as he said,
“
You must love
him very much.
”
 
But then, after the briefest of hesitations, he dropped her chin and his tone became more sinister.
“
Certainly more than he loved you
if he gambled
away
his own flesh and
blood
.
  I did not see him stand in your defense when you were carried away.  Nor do I see him following us, trying to right this wrong.
”

Her heart sank.  With growi
ng trepidation, Sahara realized
that this man was right. 
Her father had sold her, like common chattel.  His drinking and gambling had finally destroyed the one last thing he had in his life: his only remaining family.  Sahara
could never return home.  Not to her father.  Feeling alone and f
rightened, she frowned. 
“
Where
am I to go?
”
she thought aloud, n
ot really desiring
Nicolae
's advice
or expecting it.

“
S'hara, you may go nowhere,
”
he sai
d.  His voice was deep and thick, the accent making his words flow
together so that they had a songlike quality.  It was comforting even if the words were not. 
“
You belong to the
Rom Baro
.
”

Snapping her head, Sahara n
arrowed her eyes
.  How
dare he assume she would allow
herself to belong to anyone.  Unl
ess they chained her
, Sahara
would never stay with these
people. 
“
I belong to no man! 
Especially some scraggly
old
gypsy!
”
  She started to walk away, but
she stopped, her heart pounding
. The women stared
at her, watching her every move. 
To them, she was the outsider and they were studying her reaction. 
Sahara had to get away, even if for just a moment to collect her thoughts.  Her mind reeled at the surreal situation that she faced her.  S
he stared at the tents and
wagons.  They all looked the sa
me and Sahara realized that she
had no idea where the tent
was that she had slept in.
She
couldn't even escape from the gy
psies' curious gazes. 

Sah
ara
felt the tears stinging at her eye.  She blinked, trying to fight them back but, before she coul
d
help herself, she
began to sob
softly.
Lowering her head into her hands, s
he felt lost and alone, torn from the only home she had ever known, the only life she had ever lived. 
She couldn’t go back.  That was true.  Nor would she stay
here amongst strangers of mind, body, and culture.  If she could leave, she had no money, no skills, and no home. 
The man had, indeed, spoken correctly: she had
nowhere
to go.




   




             
The wind blew through her hair as she stood on the deck of the ship.  She held the small infant in her arms, protecting her from the wind by holding her close to her chest.
The air smelled of salt and of freedom.  She shut her eyes and felt the sway of the boat beneath her feet.  The boat rolled gently in the waves, each roll followed by a loud slap of water against the hull.  The only other noise was the occasional flutter of the canvas sail, snapping in the wind.  The sun shone overhead but the woman was in the shadows of the sail, protected from the harsh rays of the noonday radiance. 

             
The other passengers were downstairs, below deck.  Many were tired of the journey.  Most of them slept as much as possible, especially during the heat of the day.  It made time go faster. But the woman would not be confined beneath the deck and away from the fresh air.  The small infant needed air and she needed to get away from the angry stares of the others on the ship.  It was a time of great stress and tension and the woman could only escape by slipping away and hiding in the shadows of the sail.

             
The sailors left her along, respectful of the new mother.  She had only given birth a few weeks ago, during the mid-point of the journey.  The birth had been easy and her recovery fast.  That was attributed to her youth and vigor.  But the fact that she gave birth at all was frowned upon, a stain on her family and her future.  She didn’t care.  She wouldn’t have traded any of it if it meant the loss of those few days of passion and love.  Forbidden love, true.  But it was so powerful and so honest.  She found herself smiling as she remembered his arms, his words, his powerful lovemaking.  He had never made her any promises and that was fine with her.  He had given her something even better than memories.  He had given her the child in her arms. 

The days were long and it was getting hotter each day.  The sun rose early in the morning and often did not set until well into the evening.  During the first few days, the
gypsies left her alone.  She would often wander on the edge of the camp, searching the horizon as if the answer was there.  In the distance, she could see hills and forests.  The road did not look familiar and she did not see signs of other towns.  She had no idea where they were and no one spent any time paying attention to the distraught stranger in their midst.  It was lonely and she was frightened.  In the morning and at night, the man called Nicolae delivered her meals, us
ually without so much as a word and always under the watchful gaze of the older woman.
  He wasn’t unkind but distant, allowing her time to adapt without forcing conversation or explanation. 

At night, the campfires flickered in the darkness casting shadows around the tents and wagons that encircled them. 
During the initial days, Sahara would stay inside the tent, too frightened to leave.  She knew the stories about gypsies and what the men were capable of doing to a single woman.  Instead, she would huddle under the blankets, sometimes weeping, other times forcing herself to sleep in order to pass the time quicker.  When she was awake, she would listen to the music.  They played fiddles and wooden flutes.  The noise was lively and fiery.  The tunes were fast-paced and caused her heart to race.  Yet, deep down, there was something comforting about the music.  On those nights, while the music played, she snuck to the tent opening and peered out, watching the life around the campfire, listening to the beckoning notes that flew from their instruments, and seeing the shadows of people dancing in the flickering glow from the fires.

She had not seen the old gypsy since the night at the saloon.  If he was at the camp, he remained hidden.  Since her first daring excursion a few days past, she had not ventured into the company of the gypsies.  Her mind reeled at the changing course of her life.  She had to make a decision but she was completely unprepared to even begin comprehending what were her options.  She wandered around the edge of the tents, avoiding the clusters of women and men. 

Once, she sat on a grassy hill, staring down at the activity in the gypsy camp.  She counted at least
eight wagons and over twelve
tents.  The horses grazed nearby, two small boys keeping an eye on them. 
During the height of the day, the activity was much less.  It seemed that the gypsies chose that time to escape the sun and took long naps in the shade.  But she wasn’t certain.  She just knew that they disappeared and the campsite was quiet.  It was then that she ventured down from the hill and walked quietly through the tents.  She stared at the crates full of pots and pans.  She saw clothes hanging out to dry on makeshift clothing lines.  She smelled the woodsy scent of smoldering logs, the grey smoke just barely visible as the embers died. 

“Ah, you emerge at last,” a voice said from behind.

Startled, Sahara jumped and spun around.  She had thought everyone was gone for their midday respite.  She was surprised to see Nicolae, sitting in a tall ladder back chair, his foot on a log as he balanced the chair on its two back legs.  He held a knife in one hand, a stick in another.  He had been sharpening the stick but he stopped when he saw her.  He wore the same dark tan breeches that were tucked into dusty black knee boots. 
His white shirt was opened at the neck, his bronze skin glistening underneath.  Similar to the other times she had seen him, his thick black hair was bound by leather and hung down his back.  When he looked at her, his dark eyes gleamed and seemed to look through her.  It made her uncomfortable.

“You scared me,” she whispered. She took a step backward, moving away from him.

“Scared you, yes?” He looked down at the grass, a hint of a smile on his lip. She felt her heart beating inside of her chest. 
His eyes flickered up to meet hers once more. 
“So you are still scared, S’hara?”
He tossed the stick into the grass and put the knife into his boot.  Standing, he stretched his arms for a moment.  He was much taller than she had thought, especially when he was outside under the blue sky and not inside the tent.  “There is nothing to be scared of, S’hara,” he said in a matter-of-fact voice.  “In fact, you should be excited, yes?  There is a great adventure ahead of you.”

Before she could stop herself, she laughed.  “A great adventure?  I find that most humorous!”

He raised his eyebrows and shrugged his shoulders.  “That is one way to look at it, yes? But you already know that you cannot return to the Irish gadjo so what is the harm in being happy with our kumpania.”

“Kumpania?” she repeated, not understanding what he meant.

“Our family, yes?”  He walked closer to her, his eyes never moving from her face.  For a moment, she felt hypnotized.  He was searching her soul, she could feel it.  The feeling was so intense that s
he
hardly
felt
the
strong hands on her shoulders
.  It was a comforting touch and, for the first time, she felt relaxed in his presence, especially when s
he heard the
gen
tleness in his voice
as he spoke. 
“
S'hara, you will stay with
our kumpania, yes?  You will be
happy, I promise.
”
 

“I have
nowhere
to go,” she whispered.

“You have no reason to leave,” he countered.

“I just don’t understand, Nicolae.” She could not speak further, the words burned in her throat.  She wanted to say more but she fought back the tears instead.  She was lonely and she afraid.  She needed a friend and this man, this
wildly handsome gypsy man, was all that she had. 
For a moment, she tried to avoid his gaze but, when she felt him wipe the tears from her cheeks, she raised her eyes to look at him.
“I don’t belong here,” she managed to force out of her lips.
His face was dark but she sensed that there was nothing to fear from this man.  She wondered why all of the other men would be gone with the exception of this one man.  Had he been assigned to watch over her?  To make certain that she would not run away?  Sahara wanted to look away but she recognized something else in his face.  There was something soft and gentle in his gaze. 
And, once again, she sensed something familiar.

“
Your father may have gambled you away, S’hara.  But that does not mean that you cannot be happy.  The traveling life is a happy life.
We are a family, a tribe of people that love and care for one another.  We make each other very happy.
”
 
He smiled at her and whispered, almost so quietly that she couldn’t make out his words,
“
I will make you happy, S'hara.
”
 
He wiped
another tear that trickled do
wn her cheek. 

“
But I am not part of that family,
”
she whispered.

“
Ah, but you will become part of our tribe and we will take care of you, too, yes?
”
 

“
Part of your tribe…
”
she repeated softly.  She felt dazed and bewildered, nothing was clear to her.

“
You like gifts,
yes?
”
Nicolae
didn't wait for her
answer as he
took h
er hand,
leading her slowly
toward one of the wag
ons. 
“
A welcome gift
that will help you
become part of our tribe, yes?
”
  She felt like a rag doll, being led about by this strange man but her resolve was gone.  She couldn’t understand her surroundings or her destination.  She only knew that she couldn’t return to where she had been. 
T
he life that she had known
had died.
Now, here she was with a strange man in a strange world, being led toward a wagon, his hand gently holding her arm. 

His boots slammed against
the wood as he bounded up the thre
e steps, throwing the door open
and
waiting for
Sahara
to enter.
He reached out his hand to help her through the small doorway.  Once they were both inside, he e
ag
erly
gestured toward
the
rickety chair beside a feather
mattress. Numbly, she sat down, still feeling dazed.  A
s he rummaged through
some
crates,
Sahara looked arou
nd
.  The wagon was small and cramped.  She could see rays of light through the boards.  They cast shadows on the floor.  Overhead, clusters
of
sweet smelling
dried herbs
h
ung next to a single unlit lantern
.  Her eyes trailed down
the wall to the colorful scarves,
skirts, blouses, and dark pants
draped over pegs sticking out of
the wooden walls.  Besides the
clothing, there were cast
-
iron po
ts and several lanterns hanging
randomly from any free pegs.  Whe
re
Nicolae
was leaning over, Sahara
noticed several crates fu
ll of bowls, bottles, and other
utensils.   

“
Ah!
”
 
Nicolae
stood up straight
, turning
his head to look at her over his shoulder. 
“
Your
eyes.  They must be closed.
”
  Conf
used, Sahara stared at him
.
“
The eyes!
”
  At his
insistence, she shut her eyes, un
sure of her options. 
A moment later, she felt him place
something around her neck.  It
was heavy and weighed her neck
down. 
“
Open now, yes.
”
  He watche
d Sahara open her eyes and look
down at her chest. 
“
You like?
”

The gold chain shone against
the blackness of her dress.  It
was twice as thick as the gold cha
in her father had gambled for. 
But it was the large clear gem
stone
tha
t caught her attention.  Sahara
lifted the bottom of the chain awa
y from her body as she eyed the
stone
.  It was the size of the tip of her little finger
and the color of the night sky
, encased in gold.  Gently, she dro
pped it from her hands as she
raised her eyes to meet
Nicolae
's. 
“
It’s beautiful, Nicolae,
”
she said. 
“
But why would you give me something so precious?
”

“
The
Rom Baro
's romni gave it to me when I was a shev.
”

She didn’t know what he was saying but she was certain of one thing: clearly
this was stolen.  A
ll gypsies steal, she thought. 
Everyone knew that. 
“
What does that mean?
”

Nicolae
stared at her, his flashi
ng brown eyes questioning her.
“
What does what mean?
”

“
Rom Baro
rom ashev...
”
  Her voice trailed away as she
jumbled up the words
Nicolae
had spoken to her.

He laughed at her confusion. 
“
The
Rom Baro
's romni...
”

“
His wife?  Your mother?
”
she correctly gue
ssed.

“
My mother, yes.  She ga
v
e that to me when I was...
”
  He
motioned with his hand toward the floor. 

“
A boy?
”

Happy that she understood,
he nodded again. 
“
A boy, yes. 
Before she died, she gave that to me.
”

Sahara ran her fingers through her hair as she
stood up. 
She didn't understand why he wo
uld give her, a total stranger,
something so beautiful and expens
ive.  It glimmered in the light
that shone through the doorwa
y.  Facing
Nicolae
, she asked
once again
,
“
Why
would you part with something as dear as this?
”