The Heart Of A Gypsy

by Roberta Kagan

  The woman nodded and waited silently while Nadya wrapped the food in a towel; then, tucking it under her coat, the old woman left without another word.

  “We have strange customs, but she means well,” Nadya told Christian.

  “I know. I love you and I love your people, and I am learning every day to understand them more.”

  “I am so happy you’re safe; I cannot say it enough,” Nadya said. And she was, but she could not help but think that soon he would be off risking his life again.

  “I know, my darling. I know.”

  Chapter 49

  Dr. Melvin, as he had come to be referred to affectionately among the partisan group, examined Ion and Christian the day after their return. Although their appendages were swollen and bloody with peeling skin, they were fortunate to discover that neither would lose their fingers or toes. Dr. Melvin gave them both a good bill of health and told them to get as much rest as possible. Christian was worn thin; the responsibilities of his wife, the secret that constantly tapped at the back of his consciousness, combined with his weakened state had taken their toll. Soon, he knew he would be off on another mission, and the danger and tension would begin again. It seemed as if he did nothing but eat and sleep, on and off, for an entire week. Even following his arrest and time served in the Nazi prison he could not remember being so tired. When he was awake he held his wife tightly and made love to her in a way he had never done before. This last mission had made him even more aware of his own mortality and had reminded him that she had been the only thing that had kept him alive. He was filled with tenderness, wanting, longing to hold on to, to treasure each moment she lay in his arms. And with each joining of their bodies, he felt the spiritual joining of their hearts and minds. Never would he allow a day to pass without telling her how much he loved her. For although he never told her , he understood that at any time he could be killed, and he wanted to be sure that she always knew how much he cared. Nadya had changed, too. His time away on the last mission had turned her from a young girl into a wizened woman. Coming so close to losing her husband and her brother had at once taken the frivolity out of her life and made her solemn. Where once she had allowed Hanzi to roam the forest alone as long as he stayed close to the camp, now she hovered over him constantly. Although she’d always been aware of the strength of her love and need for Christian, she found that the nights until he returned from this last mission had heightened her fears, causing her to become nervous and obsessive. She’d lain in her bed shivering, wondering, “What if? What if the unthinkable happened?” And now even though he’d returned she could not turn those thoughts off.

  And then there was Ion. She’d always thought of Ion as invincible. Now she realized he was not. Since the loss of their parents, Ion had been her rock; he’d been the oak tree she could always count on. Now she faced the fact that he may one day be gone. Nadya began to spend her days checking on those she loved, watching them constantly to be sure that they had not vanished. Sometimes she forgot to eat, and she began to grow thin. Christian knew that the upcoming job with the Polish Resistance plagued his wife’s mind. He saw the changes in Nadya, and he began contemplating whether he should retract his agreement to go.

  One night after Nadya had fallen asleep, Christian took a stroll outside. He needed time to think. As he walked through the campsite, he greeted the partisan guard who remained awake, always on watch. Then he lit a cigarette and sat down upon a rock. How he wished this war would end already, but it must end with a defeat of the Nazis. If somehow Hitler won then they were all doomed. Again he thought of Nadya; how could he protect her? His toes ached from the frostbite, and he noticed that two of them had turned black. Christian assumed that Dr. Melvin was wrong and he would lose them. Still, he was lucky to be alive. And at least he had some time to relax before he had to go out on this next mission. Rubbing his toes Christian found he could not stimulate them to where he felt any sensation. The nerves were dead. As he sat gazing up at the moon his mind wandered. Although he had no reason to feel the way he did, a nagging tic told him something about this coming job with the Polish Underground felt different, wrong. He’d never been superstitious; in fact he’d always smiled inwardly and found Nadya’s superstitious ways endearing, but unfounded. But now he felt as if he were hearing a small voice telling him to abort any involvement in the coming mission. Christian wondered if it was just fear that had seeped into his mind. Maybe he was so uneasy because the last mission he and Ion had taken on had turned out so badly.

  For the first three weeks following their return, neither Ion nor Christian went out hunting. Soups filled with wild roots, some vegetables, and a few beans became the regular fare, as the others were not able to secure meat.

  “How do you feel, my brother?” Ion asked Christian one sunny afternoon as they sat beneath a weeping willow tree.

  “Better; still tired, but much better. You?”

  “I must say, better, but this drained me.”

  “Here, the Polish Underground sent cigarettes by courier last night. Have some.” Ion handed Christian several packages.

  “Thanks, I guess I slept through the visit.”

  “You did, but there was no need to awaken you. They only came to bring us a few supplies - cigarettes, mostly.”

  “Ahh, but the truth is we need food,” Christian said.

  “Yes the soups are thin and getting thinner. The Shera Rom is too old to hunt and most of the others are not able.”

  “Yes, I quite agree, and I was thinking that if we are to recover, we probably need meat. Also, I it is most important for Nadya. So I’ve been thinking about it, and I want to go hunting. Would you like to join me?” Christian said as he patted Ion’s shoulder.

  Considering his request for just a moment, Ion nodded in agreement. “Yes, good idea… Let’s go… When?”

  “This afternoon?”

  “I’ve been noticing that flocks of birds have been returning from the north; we might get a duck,” Ion said.

  “Yes, perhaps. Will you be prepared to go in an hour?”

  “Sure, why not?”

  “Very well, an hour then”

  As Christian pulled on heavy socks, long underwear and thick clothing, preparing to go hunting, Nadya became frantic.

  “Where are you going? Is something going on with that Underground group again?”

  “No love, I’m going hunting,” he touched her beautiful heart-shaped face and held her chin in his hand. “I won’t go far, so please don’t worry. I’ll be back, and tonight we’ll have meat.”

  She smiled at him, and it hurt his heart to see the worry lines forming on her young face.

  Pristine air that smelled like pine needles surrounded the men, rejuvenating them both as they walked deeper into the forest. The weather was still chilly, but it had warmed several degrees since their return. Small flocks of black birds now filled the trees, which had begun to flower again, and as they approached the river they found it to have begun to defrost in several places. This would make it possible to begin fishing again. While they looked out over the water a formation of pheasants with black and white feathers squawked, breaking the silence. Looking up, Christian pulled back his bow and arrow. With one shot he was successful. A large bird fell.

  “Ha ha… Looks like fowl for dinner,” Ion said as he slapped Christian’s back.

  “Yes… Let’s go and collect him. Then we’ll see what else we can find.”

  By late afternoon the efforts of both men had paid off handsomely. Carrying several pheasants and two hedgehogs, they returned to camp.

  Nadya was waiting. She embraced both men as they set the fresh meat down upon a rock. Then she along, with several other women, took the kill and began to prepare the evening meal. They sent several of the children to find wild mushrooms and dandelions to add to the stew.

  It had been a long time since the group had eaten meat, and the presence of such hearty food was reason for celebration. The campfire burned brightly. Bottl
es of the cherry liquor were passed around and tales of better days, before the Nazis, were told. Everyone wanted to hear stories of heroism from Ion and Christian. The asked about the mission, but both men declined to talk. When the women got up to dance, Nadya did not dance with them. Instead she sat beside Christian, holding his hand.

  Following the feast the entire group was tired, and everyone retired to their respective sleeping arrangements.

  The night was like a black velvet blanket. An owl hooted somewhere in the distance, and it seemed as if peace had settled over the world, if only for a moment.

  A loud, piecing scream woke the entire group. It was well past midnight, and the voice of Kizzy the wife of the Shera Rom, rung out through the camp in horror. Nadya and Christian rushed to her vurdun to find Ion already there with her.

  “Apparently, from what I have gathered from Kizzy, the Shera Rom was feeling ill and woke his wife,” Ion told Nadya and Christian. “She went to the river to get him some water. When she got back he was dead.”

  Kizzy was wailing on her knees inside of her wagon. She held fast to the body of her dead husband, distraught with grief. Nadya went to Kizzy and knelt beside her. Then, placing her arm about Kizzy’s shoulders, Nadya removed her shawl and warmed the old woman with it. Kizzy turned and fell into Nadya’s arms, weeping.

  Throughout the day, the wife of the Shera Rom continued to cry, wailing loudly enough for the entire camp to hear. Dr. Melvin checked the body thoroughly and proclaimed that the death was of natural causes. “It looks as if his heart gave out,” the doctor said.

  For the first two days, out of sorrow and respect, all of the gypsies refrained from eating. Only coffee and alcohol were consumed as the mourning period began. All of the men offered their assistance in digging a shallow grave in the hard frozen ground a mile away from the camp. Finally as Romany tradition would have it, although there would be no casket, the dead man’s ribbon was still created. It was an essential part of the death of a gypsy.

  All the gypsy women began wailing as the body of the Shera Rom was lowered into the shallow grave. They raised their hands above their heads, shrieking. Several of the gypsy men poured wine or brandy into the grave; this would help the dead man as he began his journey to the other world. As each of them poured the liquor into the ground, they said to the body of the Shera Rom, “May this go with you.” Then food was placed beside the Shera Rom as an offering to the dead, so that he should not go hungry when he arrived at his final destination. Now each person came forward and spoke to the body. They said, “May you find a good road on the other side.”

  After it was over, Kizzy went to Nadya and handed her a long ribbon of twisted fabric. Tears came to Nadya’s eyes as she hugged the wife of the Shera Rom and thanked her for the blessed gift.

  When Christian saw the piece of knotted material that Kizzy gave to Nadya, he asked Ion what it was.

  “That is a dead man’s ribbon. According to the ways of the Rom, a ribbon is always made from tearing fabric that belonged to the dead person and tying it together. That is what we use to measure the body for a casket. Although due to the circumstances we cannot build a casket; the body will go directly into the earth in this case. But it is necessary that the dead man’s ribbon still be constructed because it has special powers,” Ion said. He lit a cigarette; then he went on to explain, “ Here is how it works, After the burial is over, the ribbon that is made from the fabric of the dead man’s clothing is divided into sections, and then the closest person to the deceased will decide who they will chose to give the pieces to. It is said that each piece of the dead man’s ribbon has very magical powers. The owner of such a gift can bring about remarkable things. The catch, however, is that the magical ribbon only works one time and therefore should be saved for a dire emergency. So, as you can see, it is a very high honor to be chosen as a recipient of one of these talismans.”

  “Magical powers? Exactly what do you mean?” Christian looked at him skeptically. Even though he had a hard time believing in all of the magic, he loved these people and their wonderful way of life.

  “Well, if the one in possession of the dead man’s ribbon is in trouble they can always turn to the dead for help. In this case, Nadya could call to the Shera Rom.”

  “And does it work?” Christian asked.

  “Of course it has always worked,” Ion said with conviction.

  “Kizzy must care a great deal for Nadya to give her such a gift…”

  “Oh, yes, my sister is very well-loved among our people. When Nadya sees someone in need, she is the first one there to help…always was. Now, I know that she’s a little tiger and she fights very hard for what she believes or wants, but her heart is tremendous,” Ion said.

  “I know that. I love her more than life itself, and I’m the one she’s usually fighting with,” Christian said.

  “You have brought her back to the land of the living. Before you, all she cared for was that poor child, and we all feared that because he was born with these physical and mental problems he may not live long. I was always afraid that if he died, she might die also. Then you came, and although I think that she still misses our parents…, she is happy like she was as a girl again, maybe more so.”

  “It must have been terribly hard for both of you…the loss of your family,” Christian said.

  “Yes, and considering that we still are not sure if they are alive or dead, we do not know whether to hope or to grieve. We dare not venture to believe that they are all right because we cannot face losing them twice. And yet we cannot help but hope. It is a difficult thing. Neither Nadya nor I ever discuss that day that we came back to camp to find everyone had been taken. It is too painful to talk about,” Ion said as he looked away in shame. “Christian, I could never express to you how terrible it was. How guilty we both felt for surviving.”

  Once the funeral was over, and the ribbon divided and gifted, the widow was escorted back to her wagon. Nadya knew that Kizzy could not be alone after suffering such a loss. So, as was the Romany way she stayed by the old woman’s side for the remainder of the day and night. The following morning Nadya left Kizzy’s wagon, but returned daily to bring her food to offer her company and help to straighten her vurdun.

  Chapter 50

  Every day the sun shed more of her warmth upon the earth, and spring began to break through the frozen ground, emerging with a burst of new life. The forest was filled with bees buzzing and butterflies fluttering through the wildflowers. Deep shades of green blanketed the earth from sweet pea to emerald. Once again God painted the most miraculous blend of colors. Birds offered songs that could be heard through the windows of the wagons as the sun rose in the morning. Mother Nature’s abundance had returned as streams filled with fish and wildlife populated the woods.

  Renewed by the change in weather, the partisans were regaining much of the strength that the cruel winter had sucked from them. Now that food was once again plentiful, they ate and grew strong. After a respectable period of mourning, it was customary among the gypsies to vote for a new Shera Rom. According to the wishes of the dead leader, Ion would be the first nominee. In the old days, before the Nazis, a council of the elders would have been given the responsibility of such an important task, however now all of the men present would vote for the leader. Shuml spread the word around the camp that a meeting would be called for the following night to determine who would become the new leader of the group. He made sure to let them know the wishes of the prior Shera Rom, that Ion be his successor.

  All day, the women of the camp joined together to prepare the feast for the evening meeting. Fresh meat was brought in by the hunters and several dishes were cooking on low fires. That night the group walked the five miles to the center circle and assembled to eat, and then cast their votes.

  The oldest Gypsy among them stood in the center of the circle. “As you all know, the Shera Rom has left us to follow a good road on the other side. May this go before him.” He poured wine from a bottl
e on to the earth. The others all answered, “May the Shera Rom find good road.”

  The old gypsy spoke again, “And now the time has come, and we must sober ourselves and make a choice of a new leader for our kumpania. The first nominee is Ion, and that is according to the wishes of the old Shera Rom. If anyone has a second candidate, he may speak now. Otherwise, Ion will be our next leader.”

  “I would like to nominate a man whom I believe deserves the most respect among us.” It was one of the gypsies who spoke.

  “Go ahead.”

  “I would like to nominate Christian for his great efforts of bravery.” This nomination, by a Rom, told Christian that he had finally won their acceptance and their friendship.

  Everyone clapped in agreement with the choice, and Christian was called to the center of the circle. He glanced around the group and then he spoke, “I am honored. I have come to know and love all of you like brothers, and to respect your courage and fortitude. However, I must decline, for there is someone among us whom I feel is far more qualified for the position. When I lay bleeding and sweating on the floor of the Nazi prison, it was he who orchestrated my escape. Therefore, I would like all of you to join me in electing my friend, my brother-in-law…my brother…Ion.”

  Ion’s eyes met Christian’s. “I thank you my brother… I am speechless…” Ion said.

  “So, Ion, will you accept?” someone yelled from the back of the crowd.

  “Yes…I accept,” Ion bowed.

  Tears were streaming down Nadya’s face, which was bathed with light from the blaze of the fire. And so it was that Ion became the new Shera Rom, perhaps the youngest in Romany history, as this was usually a job awarded to an older, experienced man.

  Three days later, close to midnight, as the men were scattering to their wagons to rest for the night, they heard footsteps of someone approaching their camp. Each man froze where he stood, quietly grabbing for a tree branch or anything he could find that could be used as a weapon. Christian took a pistol from his belt. Quietly, Ion pulled a long sharp knife out of his boot, and some of the other gypsies followed suit. Those who were close enough silently retrieved guns that waited in the pile that was stacked inside of Ion’s wagon. Each man wondered how many people were coming toward them. Were they SS, or the Ukrainians that helped the SS to kill their own people?” The suspense was maddening. Even in the fresh air, the smell of fear and perspiration filled the area.