The Gypsy Moon

by Gilbert, Morris

  “I’m afraid not.”

  “You must be one of those Salvation Army women I see pictures of. I believe you’re out to win converts.”

  Gabby admired the easy wit of the man. It actually was socially awkward to be a nondrinker, for everyone in Germany, it seemed, drank beer. He left and then returned shortly with a glass in hand. “Here, lemonade. I guarantee no alcohol at all. When you’re finished, I must beg another dance of you.”

  As the two sipped their drinks, Erik asked what she did. When she told him, his eyes opened wide with surprise. “A doctor!”

  “Yes, I am a physician at the Berlin City Hospital.”

  “Well, Doctor,” he said, “I’ve been having this pain in my side, and I don’t feel too well in the morning. What do you prescribe?”

  “Take an aspirin and go to bed.”

  “Ach, you doctors are all alike!”

  “And what do you do, Herr Raeder?”

  “Please, it would be nice if you would call me Erik.”

  “Very well, Erik, and my friends call me Gabby.”

  “Gabby . . . that’s an unusual name.”

  “It’s short for Gabrielle.”

  “Ah, very pretty. Well, as for what I do, I am a wastrel. A prodigal son, you might say.”

  Her eyes narrowed, and she shook her head. “No, you’re too well dressed. You haven’t been feeding with the swine, and you have no spirit of repentance about you.”

  He laughed. “You doctors! You have become too good at reading people. Well, my father owns a business, and one day when I am old and fat, I will have to go to work in it.”

  “It sounds very dull.”

  “Yes, it is, but let us hope that will be a long time off and I can continue to be a wastrel for many years.”

  As the evening went on, a number of men, mostly older than Gabby, asked her to dance. Erik kept returning to her side every time she left the dance floor, however.

  “Well, are you enjoying the reception?” her uncle asked her after she did a fox-trot with one of the other gentlemen.

  “Very much.”

  Liza smiled and put her hand on Gabby’s arm. “I’ve noticed you spending a lot of time with Erik Raeder.”

  “Who is he, Aunt Liza?”

  “You don’t know?” Dalton asked.

  “He said his father owns a business. He didn’t get very specific.”

  He laughed. “His father is Baron Rudolph Raeder. You see that couple over there beside the pillar? That’s the baron and his wife. He was called Rudy Raeder in the war. He was a fighter pilot, and he’s a close friend of the führer. Very high up in the Party. His family is quite prominent.”

  Looking over, Gabby saw a tall, strongly built man with an equally tall, rather thin woman. They stood out even in this august company. “He didn’t tell me he was from such a family.”

  “They’re a very powerful force in German politics,” Dalton said.

  Suddenly, a stir to their left caught their attention, and Gabby turned to see Hitler and another man approaching, along with four men in matching uniforms who appeared to be bodyguards. The short man with a sharp face whispered something to Hitler, and Hitler turned toward Gabby and her aunt and uncle, then came forward. The small man said, “My führer, may I present one of the premier physicists of Germany, Professor Dalton Burke.”

  Hitler stretched his hand out and smiled, and Dalton took his hand, struck speechless. “I have heard of your fine work, Professor,” Hitler said. The aide went on to introduce Liza, and then the aide, who seemed to know everything, said, “And may I present Fraulein Gabrielle Winslow—or Dr. Winslow, I should say.”

  Hitler stood directly in front of Gabby. She did not know what to do, but she put out her hand. Hitler took it and bowed over it with military precision. “Ah, Dr. Winslow, you are British, I understand.”

  “Yes, sir, I am.”

  “And what do you think of our new Germany?”

  Gabby knew she must not offend this man. His eyes were strangely hypnotic, and the pressure of his hand seemed electric. Truly, Adolf Hitler was the most unsettling man she had ever met. “I am little qualified to judge politics,” she ventured, “but I have seen the excitement in the air everywhere, sir.”

  He smiled, his eyes aglow. “I admire the British. The Nordic strain is in them.” Hitler continued to speak of his admiration for the British and then concluded by saying, “I welcome you to the new Germany, Fraulein, and both of you, Professor and Frau Burke. We appreciate your work for the Fatherland.”

  As Hitler and his entourage moved away, Gabby stood speechless. Her aunt took her by the arm and asked, “What did you think of him, dear?”

  “For some reason I find him frightening.”

  “I thought he seemed very nice.”

  Gabby did not answer. He had certainly seemed pleasant on the outside, but she had the strangest feeling about him. She wanted to ask if they could leave, but she knew it was much too early for an acceptable exit.

  ****

  Across the room, Baron Rudolph Raeder and his wife, Hilda, were speaking with Erik. “Who was the woman you were dancing with—the one in the blue dress?” his mother asked.

  “She’s a doctor at the city hospital. Originally from Britain. She’s the niece of Professor Dalton Burke.” He laughed and said, “She’s quite entertaining. I’m taking her to see the sights of Berlin later this week.”

  Baron Raeder gave his son a direct look. “One day her people will stand in the way of the Fatherland. Make no alliance, my son.”

  Erik laughed. “She’s a good-looking woman and plenty smart. That’s enough for me, Father.”

  CHAPTER SIX

  The Danger of Power

  The snow under her skis looked like powdered white glass, and the brightness made Gabby squint. Erik had introduced her to the sport, and now she loved it. Exhilarated, she sped down the mountainside, crouching low over the skis, poles under her arms, and shifting her weight to change direction. She had never gone down such a steep slope before, and she was filled with a delicious mixture of fear and awe as the wind whipped across her face and bit at her lips.

  “You can’t win. Give up!”

  Erik had pulled up beside her. He was an expert skier—she had found he was good at every sport, it seemed—and now the wind blew his blond hair wildly, and his teeth blazed white against his sunburned complexion.

  “Be careful!” he yelled. “I’m going to take a shortcut, but you go straight on down.”

  Gabby watched as he sailed ahead of her and then veered off to her left. A perverse notion took her, and she followed. He did not know she was behind him, and she was delighted to think that she might even beat him to the foot of the slope.

  As she sped recklessly downward she thought of how close they had become. Ever since the night of the reception, he had taken her to concerts, operas, plays, and short excursions into the countryside.

  Gabby often asked herself how she really felt about him. She could not deny the strong physical attraction between them. He had kissed her at the end of their first date, when they had gone to hear the Berlin Symphony. Gabby had been shocked at the emotions that had raced through her at his tender embrace. She had put her hand on his chest, feeling herself slipping beyond control, and he had laughed at her. “You’ve got to learn to relax, my dear Gabby,” he had said. “There’s more to life than taking a patient’s temperature.”

  A large rock formation loomed ahead, and she followed Erik as he expertly turned to the right. She came precariously close to the outcropping, but with a wild twist of her body she managed to avoid it. Her heart was racing as she sped down the straightaway, but even so, she was thinking more of her relationship with Erik Raeder than she was of skiing down a dangerous slope.

  The two weaved through the powder, and then Erik abruptly threw himself to the left. Gabby had no time to follow suit but shot by him. She had not gone more than fifty meters when she heard a stifled cry and a noise she did no
t recognize.

  He must have fallen! At once she threw herself sideways and skidded to a stop. She looked back up the mountain and saw no sign of Erik. She slipped out of her skis and ran clumsily back up the slope, her skis under one arm. She finally spotted him as he struggled to get up. One ski was still attached to his boot, but the other one was missing.

  “Erik, are you all right?” she cried. She made her way to his side just as he collapsed back onto the snow. His eyes were closed, his lips drawn tightly together. “Have you broken something? Can you move your legs?”

  Gabby had no time to ask further questions, for suddenly Erik’s arms shot up and he pulled her down on his chest and kissed her firmly with his icy lips.

  She felt relieved that he was not hurt. She was pressed tightly against him and could not move, for his arms were strong. Finally, she turned her head to the side and gasped, “Let me go!”

  He laughed and released his grip. He sat up, his eyes sparkling. “That’s a good treatment you have for a fallen skier. Kiss me again. I feel a weakness coming on.”

  She hit him on the chest as he grabbed at her, but she was helpless against his strength. He flipped her around so that she lay in the snow, her arms pinioned to her sides. “As they say in the American movies, you’re beautiful when you’re angry, even in those silly goggles.”

  Gabby giggled. She couldn’t help it. They must have both looked ridiculous in their goggles with his sole ski waving in the air as he lay on his stomach. “You are insane! You could have been dead. I was scared to death!”

  “Were you?” He leaned forward and kissed her lightly on the lips again. “That’s good news.” He gently pulled her goggles off and then did the same with his own. He put his cheek next to hers and simply held her.

  This was an unusual moment for Gabrielle Winslow. Here on the side of a mountain, lying in the snow, being held by the tall, strong man she had become so attached to, she felt a sense of longing. She felt as if she had been seeking love all of her life. She had not found it before—not even with Lang, she could finally admit—but now as Erik held her firmly, yet with a tenderness she had learned was part of his character, she felt safe and secure, and she longed for even more.

  This longing frightened her. Erik was two men, it seemed. One was the typical German man of strength and discipline and iron, but he also had a tender side to him, and he showed it to her from time to time. If she had not seen it, she would have refused to date him at all. But it was there, and she tried to understand the balance of these two influences—his tenderness and yet the steel of his Nordic character.

  “You know, Gabby, I think I feel more for you than I should,” he said quietly. He pulled his head back so he could look into her eyes.

  She could see the clean handsomeness of his features, and she let her eyes linger on his eyebrows, his eyelashes, his perfect cheekbones. She wondered how a man with such masculine strength could be so beautiful. “Then . . . you had better stop,” she said.

  “How can I stop? Is love a thing you can turn on and off like a light switch?” He pulled her up to sit on the snow next to him and then removed her ski cap, watching her luxurious wealth of hair fall about her shoulders. He had always loved her hair and had told her so many times. He ran his hand through it and said huskily, “I can’t stop loving just because someone tells me to.”

  Gabby could not answer. She felt helpless, caught between two conflicting emotions that were keeping her from thinking clearly. She well understood that Erik’s parents were opposed to their relationship. They were polite enough, but there was a wariness in both of them, and she wondered now if she should mention her concerns to Erik. But he gave her no chance.

  “Come on,” he said. “We were lucky not to break our necks. Why did you follow me?”

  “Because I wanted to.”

  “Did you?” Erik pulled her to her feet and put his arms around her. “That pleases me very much. I hope you will always want to follow me. Because if you don’t, I’ll follow you.”

  “Let me go,” she said with a giggle. “We need to find your other ski.”

  They looked up the mountain and found it buried in the snow not too far away.

  “Let’s be more careful this time,” Gabby said as they both got back into their skis and put on their goggles.

  “You’re right about that,” he said ruefully. “I was a fool to take such chances, and you were no better following me. Are you ready?”

  She adjusted her hat, and the two started down the slopes at a more sedate pace. After they reached the lodge, he said, “My parents are expecting us for a visit. Go change clothes, and I’ll have the car ready.”

  “All right, Erik.” She spoke lightly enough but inwardly was frightened, as she always was when she fell under the eyes of the Raeders. Still, she had promised to go with him, and now she had no choice.

  Gabby spent two days at the Raeder mansion just outside of Berlin, and she was glad when the visit was over. Erik’s parents had not said anything specifically that made her feel uncomfortable, but the very correctness with which they treated her spoke of their disapproval louder than words. She said her good-byes, and Baron Raeder said stiffly, “You must come again.” His words were polite, but they were spoken with such formality that she felt as if he were shutting a door. His wife simply said good-bye and didn’t even pretend to extend another invitation.

  As Erik drove her home, they avoided the subject of his parents. They talked instead of the fun they’d had skiing and of other mountains where he had skied. When he pulled up in front of her aunt and uncle’s house, he shut the engine off and turned to face her. “So now you go back to work.”

  “Yes, I have to make a living.”

  Erik reached over and took her hand. He held it for a time quietly, then looked up and said, “What is that necklace you wear all the time?”

  “I got it many years ago from an old gypsy woman.”

  “She sold it to you?” He was surprised. The German Party considered gypsies “undesirables.” He frowned as he asked, “Who was she?”

  “Just an old woman. She didn’t sell it to me—she gave it to me.” Gabby hesitated. “She was very strange, Erik. She told me I was going to have a difficult time, and she was right, because my parents died almost immediately after that.”

  “She told your fortune?” he asked, disbelief in his voice.

  “No, I don’t believe in that. She was actually very close to God, and I believe she was telling me the truth. She gave me this necklace and told me she would be praying for me.”

  “So she was a Christian?”

  “Yes, she was.” She hesitated and then added, “I met her again after I came to Holland. Just a chance encounter. I went out to visit her, and she said she had been praying for me for years. She died shortly after that.”

  He released her hand and picked up the coin that hung from the golden chain around her neck. “It’s a beautiful old piece. Do you know what it means?”

  “I have no idea.” She suddenly looked up and saw the moon high in the sky. “That’s a gypsy moon.”

  He turned to look. “It’s very beautiful. Why do you call it a gypsy moon?”

  “The leader of the gypsies told me that a full moon is a gypsy moon. He said gypsy men and women always fall in love when there’s a full moon.”

  “Well, that’s foolish! What if they’re in love and the moon isn’t full?” He laughed and reached over to pull her close, then kissed her cheek. “There’s something about you I don’t understand. There’s a resistance. I feel it when I kiss you. You give yourself to me for a moment, and then you hold back. Why is that?”

  “I don’t know, Erik.”

  “I think you do. Have you had an unfortunate love affair? Are you afraid of men?”

  Suddenly, Gabby realized there was some truth in his question. “I . . . never had a love affair. Not a real one, but I came very close to being in love with a man once. We were engaged, actually. I thought I lov
ed him, but I was wrong. He wasn’t the man for me. I suppose I’m afraid of making a mistake, and no one can afford that.”

  Erik shook his head. “We make mistakes all the time, Gabby. The only people who make no mistakes are those who live in a cave and won’t come out—people who are afraid to take a risk for something they truly want.” He used his finger to tilt her chin toward him and kissed her with passion.

  As she responded to his affection, she knew that the heart of this man had a wildness in it, which almost seemed to consume her at times.

  He pulled back and said, “One day I’ll ask you to marry me.”

  She had wondered, of course, what it would be like to marry him, but she thought it was much too soon to get serious. They had only known each other for a few months. Now that the word marry had been spoken aloud, she felt a shock run along her nerves. “But we’re too different.”

  “Of course we’re different. I’m a man and you’re a woman.”

  “Oh, it’s more than that, and you know it! Your family would never accept me.”

  Erik did not argue, but he said firmly, “They can change.”

  “But, Erik, there are . . . things in Germany—political things—I don’t understand, and I’m afraid of them.”

  Erik stroked her hand, and for a moment he did not answer. Finally, he lifted his eyes and said, “There are some things in this new order that I do not accept myself. My father blindly accepts whatever the führer proposes, but Hitler is only a man and subject to error.”

  “That’s what bothers me. The men and women on the street, the working people, everyone seems to think he’s . . . almost like a god. That whatever he does is right.”

  “Strong men always elicit that sort of feeling from people. You don’t know what it was like in Germany after the war. It was terrible. Money became worthless. People were starving in the streets. We didn’t know which way to turn, and then Hitler came along. And he made things work. He’s a man of destiny, Gabby. He will make Germany the strong nation she once was.”

  “But he’s breaking treaties, invading other countries. There’s something wrong with that, isn’t there, Erik?”