Perilous Pleasures

by Patricia Watters

  "It did at first," Helen replied, "but Alonzo made up for it in other ways. She shrugged. "Now, it's a way of life and I don't think about it anymore.

  "Why do you stay, now that your husband is gone?" Joanna asked.

  "It's my home, my family," Helen replied. "Ivan, Laszlo and Kitta will probably always stay with the Rom, so that's where I want to be."

  "I don't think I could do that, be subservient to my mother-in-law and—" Joanna paused, caught Helen smiling, and burst out laughing.

  Helen threw her shoulders back and raised her chin. "I like breakfast in bed, and my bath water prepared when I snap my fingers." She gave Joanna a wry smile. "Do I sound convincing?"

  Joanna chuckled. "Sorry...no," she said. She lapsed into speculative silence. She knew she could never adjust to this wandering life with its strange tribal customs and strong communal bonds, even with Stefan by her side. Yet... Helen seemed relatively content.

  "Have you moved around much like this, with a caravan of wagons?" she asked.

  "Quite a bit," Helen replied. "Gypsies wander with the wind. Alonzo loved it. He had the true soul of a Gypsy—the beat of romance in his heart, the urge to move with the rhythms of nature." Her eyes grew pensive. "We would just set out with the children, nowhere in particular, camping in a different place each day. And every night, Alonzo would bury our money and build a fire over it so it wouldn't get stolen."

  "It didn't burn up?" Joanna said, surprised.

  Helen chuckled. "No. But the first time I saw Alonzo do it I was mortified. I was certain we'd have no money by morning. But sure enough, when the fire died and he dug it up, the money was fine." She looked toward the blazing fire. "I guess I'd better go mingle. Some might not recognize it, but I am mother of the groom. And I'll find Stefan and tell him where you are."

  "Thank you," Joanna replied. "I'll probably just tell him good-bye and be on my way."As she watched Helen moving toward the crowd, she contemplated her words. The thought of constantly being on the move for the rest of her life, traveling with a vaudeville show or wandering with a band of gypsies, gave her a decidedly unsettled feeling.

  But Stefan was more like Helen. Perhaps he could adjust to living in one place. He did have a house on the river, and he admitted to staying in it several months of the year. Would it be so hard for him to remain there longer? And after a while, year around?

  "How long you think you hold him?" The voice came as if out of the night.

  Joanna looked up with a start to find Tekla Janacek moving from the shadows. The old woman lowered herself to the chair Helen had vacated. When Joanna didn't reply, Tekla said, "How long you think Stefan live like caged animal?"

  Joanna's skin tingled under Tekla Janacek's intense gaze. How had the woman read her thoughts? "Stefan has a house on the river," she said, a feeble attempt in her defense, knowing Tekla Janacek would read right through it.

  Tekla Janacek's dark eyes gazed unblinking. "And you think Stefan stay in house on river and live like gorgio?"

  The old woman gave Joanna an eerie, uncomfortable feeling. How was she to respond? The woman was a soothsayer who could read people's minds, perhaps even direct their wills. And right or wrong, Tekla Janacek had an answer for everything. "It would be Stefan's decision. And yes, I believe he could be happy living in his house by the river."

  Tekla said, her voice grave, "For Rom, living in house like living in cage. Four walls like prison. Rom need freedom." She looked up at a moon that hung red as a disc of polished copper. "Rom like wild bird. Die when caged. Stefan marry you. Now you want to put him in gorgio cage. Stefan die there. You see." She stood. Saying nothing more, she wandered toward the crowd and blended into the mass of people.

  Gypsies, Joanna realized with mounting apprehension, actually believed they'd die if they stopped wandering. Certainly Stefan didn't share this archaic belief? But then, he admitted he only stayed in his house for short periods. She sighed. Perhaps Stefan was less gorgio than she'd hoped. Maybe, like his father, he'd slowly die living in a house. She looked to where Stefan would be moving from the crowd to join her, then stood and walked to her buggy. She needed time to be alone before Stefan would come to her stateroom, time to ponder the chasm between them that was growing wider and wider with each day.

  ***

  "No! Stefan!" Joanna screamed a silent scream while grabbing Stefan's arm, her nails curling into his flesh. Stefan snapped his arm from her grip and glared at her, eyes defiant. As she looked at him, the space separating them became oppressive. She didn't know this man. Stefan said nothing, but turned and continued toward the big cage where Rafat paced restlessly inside. As Stefan entered the arena, Joanna tried to scream but couldn't. Instantly, Rafat sprang, taking Stefan down, clawing at his flesh, tearing off great long strips. Across the arena, Tony watched and smiled, making no attempt to help. He swirled a long whip above his head and cracked it uselessly. Joanna tried to run toward Stefan, but she felt as if she were immersed in heavy liquid, her feet weighted so she had no strength to move her legs. Tony's whip cracked... and cracked... and cracked... And Joanna's eyes flicked open.

  She gazed at the ceiling while drifting in a nebulous state between fantasy and reality, heart drumming, body damp with perspiration. As the dream faded, the cracking noise sounded again, very close. She looked toward the wash stand and saw Stefan.

  He smiled at her. "It's hot as hell outside," he said, handing her a glass. "I thought you'd like to wake up to something cold."

  Joanna stared at what appeared to be orange juice and cracked ice. Gradually, the cracking of the whip, and Tony Bernardo's face with its scathing smile, faded. Joanna sat up and rested against the pillows. "How long have you been here?" she asked, tightening her fingers around the glass to quiet their trembling.

  "Long enough to squeeze juice and crack ice," Stefan replied. "You seemed restless."

  "I didn't sleep very well last night," Joanna said. "It was the first night you didn't come to my bed." She looked up at him and waited for an explanation. She'd wondered during the night, as she'd twisted and turned between hope and despair, if Tekla Janacek had convinced Stefan that marriage to a gorgio would confine him to a sedentary life that would ultimately kill him. She suspected he took to heart his grandmother's predictions, and her advice. He'd married a gorgio once. To do so again would end the same.

  He'd also said he'd give up his cats if she were carrying his child, which was a distinct possibility. They had made love so many times over the past two weeks that she'd lost count. And there was no question that when they did, Stefan went deep inside her, as deep as her supple, aroused body demanded. She wanted him to go deep. She wanted him to fill her completely, to satisfy her in a way that only Stefan could. And when he released his seed each time, it was heavy in volume and certain to be fertile. Nor could she dismiss the queasiness in her stomach, which she had initially passed off as nerves. But whether she was carrying Stefan's child or not, for the time they had left together, she wanted him.

  He bent over and kissed her on the forehead. "The wedding lasted well into the night and I didn't want to disturb you."

  "You're my husband, Stefan. Your coming to me in the middle of the night and making love would never disturb me." She took a slow sip of orange juice, then looked up at him and said, "I missed having your arms around me, and kissing you good night. Without you in my bed, I felt empty and alone. I still do."

  Stefan sat on the bed and pulled her into his arms. "Will making love to you help?"

  She looked up at him, eyes filled with tears of anticipation. "Yes, but every time you've made love to me, all I do is count the hours until you'll be back here with me. Last night was a very long night."

  "Then we'll have to make up for it now." Stefan shrugged out of his shirt and trousers and sat on the bed. "I'm sorry, sweetheart," he said. "I'm not being a very considerate husband, but since I couldn't stay with you all night, I didn't want you to think that I only came to you for my gratification. You d
eserve more than that."

  "Don't go getting philosophical on me," Joanna said. "I may deserve a lot of things, but what I want is you in my bed right now, for my gratification. And you cannot do what I want with your drawers on, so would you please remove them."

  Stefan stood and slipped of his drawers. "How's that?"

  Joanna stared at him. "Actually... quite magnificent. Now, don't just stand there. You have a to job to perform." She took his hand and pulled him back down on the bed.

  "Wanton woman," he said, then slipped her gown over her head.

  Their lovemaking was playful, and spirited, and completely uninhibited. Stefan satisfied Joanna in ways she had not yet known, and she felt free to express her physical love for him in ways that surprised even her. But afterwards, as they lay in each other's arms, Joanna said to Stefan, "Since you didn't stay in your stateroom last night, did you sleep in a wagon at the wedding, or in your own wagon?"

  "In my wagon." Stefan's hand moved idly up and down her arm. "I need to be where I can keep an eye on things. I'll be staying in my wagon near the menagerie whenever we stop."

  As she heard Stefan's words, the terrible dream surfaced, Tony's face seeming to dominate all. Maybe something in her subconscious was trying to tell her that Tony would not help Stefan if the cats attacked. But if she mentioned it to Stefan, he'd simply pass it off with one of his usual denials. In an effort to shake off her apprehension, she looked into her glass and asked, "When did the ice wagon come?"

  "About fifteen minutes ago." Stefan stretched out his legs, leaned back on his elbow and looked at her. "Why did you leave the wedding last night?" he asked. "I broke away as soon as my mother told me where you were, but when I got there, you'd left."

  Joanna shrugged. "I felt completely out of place. A gorgio among gypsies," she replied, visualizing the countless censuring eyes.

  "I'm sorry," Stefan said, "But I thought since my mother was there..."

  "She's also a gorgio among gypsies," Joanna said, feeling repressed anger rising. "You come from a very closed society."

  Stefan sighed. "You're right, I admit. I've watched my mother struggle to be accepted, and after years of living with my father's family, she's still only tolerated. I resent my Rom kin for that, just as Josef resented them when he married Barbara. Only Josef chose to leave the community and make a separate life with Barbara rather than subject her to the scorn and rejection he knew she'd suffer as a gorgio among gypsies. Josef confided to me later that he'd never regretted his decision. He and Barbara lead a happy, conventional life. Actually it was easy for him to settle. After college, he hung out his shingle—JOSEF JANACEK, ATTORNEY AT LAW—and practiced law. But for a big-cat trainer? What kind of sign to hang? LION TAMER. WILL WORK BY THE DAY OR MONTH. INQUIRE WITHIN?"

  Joanna said nothing because there was nothing more to add. She scanned his clothes, registering for the first time that they were his khaki work clothes. She had not expected him to return to the big cage so soon. The thought brought the usual tightness in the pit of her stomach, and a vise-like grip in her chest. "Please don't work with the cats today, Stefan," she said. "It's too soon. The doctor said for you to wait."

  "I'm fine," Stefan said.

  "No, you are not fine. And why can't you let Tony do it?"

  "Because I'm not ready to turn my career over to him yet."

  Joanna glared at him. "What about Rafat and Shani? Are they going back in?"

  "In a couple of days, yes. They are both predictable animals when they're not being harassed. Besides, no one except the handlers, Walter, and Tony are allowed near the cages or the equipment."

  "How can you be so sure Tony will always be there?"

  "Because I pay him to be there. Why would he not be?"

  "I don't know. I have bad feelings about Tony."

  "You have bad feelings about everything that has to do with the cats." His words were curt, his tone annoyed.

  "I had a dream about Tony," she said. There, it was out. She hadn't intended on telling Stefan about her dream, but she couldn't dismiss it either.

  "Look, we're not going to get into dreams here. You're agitated and worried, and whatever comes from that has no bearing on what happens to me, so don't try to go there."

  Joanna's lips compressed. "No fears. No worries. I find myself wishing your dizziness would return if only to keep you out of the ring. But it seems, the only way you'll stay out is if you're confined to the hospital!"

  Stefan's eyes narrowed with annoyance. "The only reason I was in the hospital was because I hit my head. Accidents happen."

  Joanna stared at him as if he were deranged. "It was not an accident," she enunciated. "Why do you keep referring to it as if it were?"

  Stefan's released a tiresome sigh. "Just a figure of speech."

  "What do you intend to do about it? Nothing?" Joanna clipped. "You could at least go to the police. But, of course, I don't imagine you'd consider that."

  "Look, if it happens again, I will!" he snapped, then added in a conciliatory tone, "Kitta appreciated the ride to the wedding."

  "You're evading the issue," Joanna said. "If anything more happens, you may be dead. Someone's trying to kill you, for heaven 's sake, yet you insist on working with a couple of damn cats that are potential killers and—"

  "Hold it!" Stefan cut her off. "I will honor my contract with Porter Brothers, and it calls for six lions, four tigers and a leopard." His decisive words, and the unyielding look in his eyes, brought a flush of anger rising.

  "And does your contract make provisions for learning a new trade if your animals turn on you again?" she said, her words brusque.

  Stefan's jaw tightened. "That won't happen," he said, "but since you choose to believe it will, you'll have to come to terms with that the best you can. Meanwhile, this is going nowhere, and I have a tiger with an infected tooth that needs attention." Turning abruptly, he walked out of the room, slamming the door behind.

  "Stubborn—" Joanna hurled a pillow at the closed door "—obstinate—" she hurled another pillow "—single-minded man." She toyed with the sapphire hanging around her neck, feeling an urge to yank it from its chain and hurl it as well. At least for his legal wife he'd offered to get rid of the troublemakers. But for the woman who was supposed to be his one true love... No compromise. No concession. No nothing! How narrow the bounds of love.

  CHAPTER TEN

  The rest of the hot, steamy day was a blur. Stefan did not return that night, and Joanna knew he was staying in his wagon, though it bothered her that he did not come to her before settling in his wagon for the night. But she also knew it was time to start breaking the ties that bound them body and soul. A letter from Matthew seemed the answer to her prayers. She read Matthew's words of concern about her working without nets, and his plea that she join him at the gymnastic academy. She could live with him and Libby until she found her own place.

  Matthew had warned Gene that he'd do everything in his power to get her to quit the act, even though she'd assured Matthew that she wasn't ready to leave. Now he was offering her a chance to settle in one place, continue doing what she loved, and be close to him and his family. He was dangling a very tempting morsel in front of her, one she couldn't dismiss too quickly. She folded the letter and slipped it into her reticule.

  For the remainder of their stay in Donaldsonville, she only saw Stefan from a distance. He stayed close to the menagerie during the day, guarding the cats. She was fairly certain he had not returned to his quarters on the steamer at night—she'd heard nothing, nor had she seen light over the transom. But if he had stayed there, he had not come to her, and she suspected he'd grown tired of her constant fretting, just as she was.

  However, in spite of her resolve, during their final day in Donaldsonville, she'd watched from a distance while Stefan worked with Rafat between performances, and she'd seen Stefan's determination to subdue a lion that refused to submit, meeting the animal's challenges with reprisal, as if proving to himself and the li
on, that he would not tolerate a disobedient animal. Yet, it would be so simple for him to just get rid of Rafat. She resolved to say nothing more, even though she felt the anger and resentment building.

  Late that night, the giant paddlewheels started churning, and the Aurora left Donaldsonville and headed downriver for their last two stops before their final show in New Orleans—Lutcher and Destrehan. With four performances scheduled for each of the two-day stops, she knew that the rigorous training routine and practice sessions with Gene would be stressful—the same endless cogwheel of physical activity.

  But it was the final show in New Orleans that weighed heavily on her. She did not embrace the superstition that the final show of the season was jinxed. But the idea of flying without nets, for any performance, scared her more than she cared to admit.

  If she signed the contract, she'd be with Stefan for another season, but her tension over his act would be accompanied by her own anxiety over performing without nets. But if she did not sign, they would be forced to leave Porter Brothers and join a smaller show, she'd hold Gene and Otto back from reaching the top, and she'd fade out of Stefan's life, as she would if she left the show to work at the academy with Matthew. She hadn't discussed her job offer with Stefan, although she had intended on broaching it at some point over the past two days. But as the days inched by, no opportunity had come.

  As the steamer coursed downriver, she paced the tight confines of her quarters. If she could lay in Stefan's arms and discuss with him her options, somehow the decision would be easier. Yet, she could think of no solution that would allow them to stay together without the accompanying stress. Maybe simply laying in Stefan's arms and having him make love to her was what she needed. It would take her mind off everything but him, and it would release the terrible tension she building. It always did. With time running out, she and Stefan also needed to address their dilemma, even though there was no solution.

  Although it was well past midnight, perhaps he too was lying awake contemplating their future, maybe facing the reality that they might not be together. She needed one more night with him, one more chance to express her love. It was not so much a physical need now, but a spiritual one. Each time they united bodily, their hearts beat as one, the rhythm of their union generating a flow of energy that pulsated between them. And when they climaxed together, and Stefan released his seed, it was as if Stefan's spirit flowed through her, filling each nerve fiber with his essence, pouring it into every capillary, radiating through her entire being while their souls connected on a higher plane. The fact was, she felt spiritually wed to Stefan, even if theirs would never be a legal marriage.