The Heart Of A Gypsy

by Roberta Kagan

  Then a drifter shuffled out of the forest. The man did not look at all like a Nazi or a collaborator. Wearing a black felt hat and a long, black, well-worn coat, he had the disheveled appearance and wild eyes of a hunted man.

  “Who are you? And what do you want?” Ion stepped forward, knife in hand.

  “I am a Kalderash, a gypsy. I am alone.” Taking in Ion’s appearance, he knew immediately that he was Romany also. Without hesitation, Ion dropped the knife and went to the man. They hugged and began to speak in their native Romany tongue.

  “I have lost my entire family, all of my friends too. I have no more kumpania. Now I wander, a man without a home, without knowing who or what I am,” the Kalderash said.

  “You are Rom, that’s who you are. You must never forget that,” Ion answered.

  “They are killing the Romany, trying to wipe our people from this earth. I was in Auschwitz. You cannot believe what I saw there. So many people killed, gassed, and then sent off to be burned up in a big oven the size of a building. But even worse, there is a terrible man, a Dr. Mengele, he tortures gypsy children. He takes out their body parts. Sometimes he sews two children together. In his office he has jars of people’s eyes. It’s something that you cannot even imagine in your wildest of nightmares. He likes mostly to work on the young Romany. He makes them call him ‘uncle,’ and then he gives them candy. After he wins their trust, he ties them up and enjoys their suffering. If I live through this war, I will never be the same after what I have seen,” the Kalderash said as he took his hat off and wiped the sweat from his head.

  Christian’s face turned ashen as he felt a shiver run down his neck. He could not bear the thought of the torture of children, and of the horrible man that was perpetuating it. He felt a chill as he remembered his own secret. Ion, now the Shera Rom, considered the magnitude of his position. He was responsible for the well being of his kumpania and for the survival of his race.

  “What is it that makes people so filled with hatred?” Ion asked, shaking his head as he gestured to his new guest. “Please, sit. We have food, and you are more than welcome to share my wagon for warmth.”

  Surrounded by his fellow Roma, the man Mikle, as he came to be known, expressed his gratitude and generosity. But later that night when the kumpania slept, Christian walked alone, gazing up at the full moon. The stories Mikle had told them earlier filled his heart with pain. If he could only single-handedly put a stop to this nightmare and to his own guilt, he would gladly risk his life to do so.

  The time sped by, moving quickly forward, and before they realized it, the end of March had arrived. It was only a week until the men were to go to meet the train in Warsaw when two of the Polish Underground arrived at the gypsy camp.

  “Welcome,” Ion said as the men rode up on horseback.

  “Thank you, brother Ion. We hear that congratulations are in order. You are the new Shera Rom?”

  “You know everything, I see,” Ion said.

  “We must keep abreast of all goings-on around us. You see, that is our only chance for survival,” the Polish Leader said. Then he asked Ion, “Have you decided who will stay behind and who will come along on the mission with us?”

  “Yes, I will leave five of my men, as well as all of the women.”

  “We are close to two days’ walk to Warsaw from here. Anyone who has a horse, I recommend they ride. There is a place outside of the city that I have secured were we can safely leave the horses. I have arranged for the animals to be watched so they are not stolen. That way when we return from the mission, we can ride back here to the forest rather than walk. The plan is to leave tomorrow night. Can you be ready?”

  Christian had been standing behind Ion, listening. It was he who answered, “Yes, we’ll be ready.”

  Chapter 51

  Looking out the window of her vurdun, Nadya saw the conversation between the Polish Resistance leader, his group, her brother and her husband. She walked outside and over to the men from the Polish resistance, who had mounted their horses and were ready to leave the gypsy camp. “I wish you would go away and never come back,” she raged at the Poles. “You and your missions…”

  The men from the Underground did not answer; they kicked their horses and trotted off.

  Nadya’s eyes darkened as she looked at her husband. Then, without a word, she walked away. When Christian arrived back at the wagon, Nadya was seated on the floor with Hanzi and Lil, who had grown into an affectionate fifty-five-pound dog. Swearing that he could see the canine smile, Christian walked over to pat her shoulder. Lapping his hand in appreciation, Lil then lay her head back down on Hanzi’s lap. Nadya had not looked up at Christian since he’d entered, but now she placed the picture book that she had been showing Hanzi down on the floor. Then she told the child, “I’ll be back in a little bit, I need some time to talk with Christian.”

  “Okay.” Petting the dog, Hanzi remained seated on the floor with the book open to the page where she’d left it.

  “Can I keep looking at the book?”

  “Of course you can, but don’t tear the pages all right? You must be careful.”

  “I will, I promise,” Hanzi said as he took the book carefully into his chubby little hands.

  Christian gave Hanzi a smile, then walked behind the partition that he’d built to separate the bed that he shared with his wife from the main room of the vurdun.

  “You’re upset with me, I know,” Christian said.

  “I’m just scared, Christian. Every day I’m afraid. And now with you off on another ‘defeat the SS’ mission, I have even more to be concerned about,” Nadya said.

  “I know, but what would you have me do? Your family could be on that train. If you say, stop fighting, I will, but you and I both know what’s right.”

  She couldn’t answer; she just nodded her head and buried her face in his chest. That night he couldn’t sleep; he still felt that this assignment had some dark omen surrounding it. He wished that he could give this all up, and somehow with a clear conscience take his wife and the boy and make their way out of Nazi territory. Not that it would be easy, because he knew there was also danger in trying to escape, but he wished for their sake that they would no longer be forced to endure this constant uncertainty. Such choices try a man; he thought to himself as he looked out the window and up at the full face of the moon and the stars that danced around her in the night sky. These last few hours were precious because he had no idea how long it would be before he held his wife in his arms again.

  “Can we send the boy to Devorah,” he whispered, and the hoarseness of his voice filled her with passion that surged through her body. She wanted him…she wanted to be filled with him, to hold his seed deep within her, cherishing it until his return.

  “I’ll take Hanzi to Devorah’s wagon. She’ll understand that we need some time before you leave. Wait here; I’ll be right back.”

  When she returned he’d lit several precious, scarce candles, and their flames twinkled in the darkness. He undressed her slowly, kissing every inch of her as he revealed it to himself. Christian wanted to burn every moment of their lovemaking into his mind. The need to recall every detail of her cherished body was all he could think about. Then he poured the bottle of red wine over her breasts. The cool sensation of the liquid made her shiver. But when his lips covered her nipples as he sucked the sweet liquor from her body, she sighed with delight. He licked the sticky substance off of her stomach, and his tongue traveled down until she felt herself getting wet. Tonight, she knew, she would suck his seed deep into her womb and she would conceive his child. He spread her legs wide as his lips closed around her clitoris. It was hard and throbbing against his hot, hungry mouth. She felt herself rise to a fever pitch as she surrendered to the wonderful magic of her lover. When he entered her, she squeezed him hard with the power of her sex. He lost control as he moved inside of her, crazy with passion. When he released his life force deep within her body, Nadya felt a magical tingling, and she knew she�
��d accomplished her goal. His seed had found its home, and soon she would bear a child born of their undying love.

  Chapter 52

  Before the stroke of midnight the band of men began their journey towards the city of Warsaw. The horses that they rode carried two men each as they moved quietly through the night. Those without horses were on foot. A light drizzle fell upon them as Christian shared a chestnut horse with a long, full mane with Ion, who rode behind him keeping watch to be sure they were not followed.

  When they met up with the Polish Resistance, weapons were distributed to those without them. Then, continuing along their way, the group was joined by Jews, Ukrainians, Lowara and Rudari gypsies. By morning the drizzle had ceased and the sun burned brightly, drying the men’s wet hair and clothes. They stopped only for a short time to eat the food they’d packed and then continued on their way. In case the train into Warsaw arrived on time, it was essential they be there to meet it. The Polish Underground had organized the mission and they given each group a specific job. The element of surprise was their strongest weapon, so they knew that they must all attack at once before the Nazis realized they were under siege. The Lowara and Sinti gypsies were designated to stage the attack on the SS officers in charge of the train, while Christian, Ion and the rest of the group from their kumpania were to find the guards in charge of the prisoners, killing them and releasing their charges, and then arming the prisoners. The Ukrainians, Poles and Rudari were responsible for confiscating the valuable art work on its way to Switzerland. It was intended that the works be sold and the money used to further the partisan cause through the purchase of ammunition and weaponry.

  Chapter 53

  Nadya could not lay her head down to sleep. She sat beside Hanzi and watched him snoring softly as he held tightly to Lil, who joined in his sleeping song with a snore of her own. Looking out the window, she tried to count the stars as she had done as a child, but she could not concentrate. Frightened that she would never see her husband or brother again, a fit of angst took hold of her and she felt her heart palpitate in her chest. Never would she have believed that she could love anyone as much as she had come to love Christian. He had proved to be a kind and loving husband, always concerned with her well-being, a gentle lover, and a man more than worthy of any woman. He had also taken on the unfortunate little boy that she had come to love and never questioned her need to keep and provide for a child not her own, even when food was scarce. And she believed that he loved Hanzi too. Christian just seemed to have so much to give; he had such an open and generous heart. She wondered how she had been so fortunate to have been chosen to be the wife of such a man. Nadya fought tears as she watched the sun ascend slowly in the sky as dawn broke. If she lost him, there would be no point in living. Not even Hanzi could bring her back to life if she lost Christian. She must not think these thoughts; it would surely bring misfortune. Then when she no longer bear to be alone with her thoughts, she left the wagon to brew coffee that she would bring to the widow of the former Shera Rom. The earth was still muddy from the rains of the night before as she started the fire. Then she sat down on a rock beside the low flames, feeling as if the weight of the world were heavy on her shoulders. Even with the wrinkles that had begun around her eyes Nadya was still beautiful. Her hands shook as she removed the pot once it was done boiling. Then she kept busy by putting together a breakfast of left-over pheasant to bring to Kizzy’s vurdun. Before she left she checked on Hanzi. He was still asleep with Lil at his side. When he awakened he would surely come to find her so that she could prepare his breakfast.

  Upon seeing her young friend, Kizzy’s swarthy face broke into a sad and wry smile.

  “Hello, my child. It is so good of you to come to me…even now with all of your own problems that I am sure are on your mind. You are a good girl, Nadya. Your parents would be proud to have raised such a daughter.” The widow took Nadya’s offerings and began to eat.

  “Thank you, Mother. I couldn’t sleep all night; I am so worried. With Ion and Christian on this mission I feel as if I am going crazy with worry. I am so afraid that this time they won’t return.”

  “Don’t say such things. You know better. If you say such things, you will bring on the evil eye.” The old gypsy spit three times over her shoulder. Then, clearing her throat, she continued, “Of course they will return. You must believe. It’s the only way to survive, little one.”

  “I know… I know you’re right, Mother, but if something were to happen…I wouldn’t want to go on living.”

  “Never say that. Life is a gift, Nadya, a gift from God. When you say such things, you are insulting God. And besides, you must think of the boy. He needs you; he isn’t right in the head, and he cannot get on in this world without someone to care for him, so you must not think of death,” Kizzy said.

  “I’m not thinking of death…but I can’t help but worry. Oh mother, but I just wish we could all live the way we used to before the Nazis…before all of this started.”

  “You know, my dear, that you might not have ever met Christian if it weren’t for all of this happening to us. Chances are good that he would have stayed right where he was in Norway. Think about that for a moment and you will realize that God has a plan, and everything is just as it should be,” the wise old woman said as she patted Nadya’s shoulder.

  “I suppose you’re right…” Nadya said.

  “I hope you understand the meaning of our ancient saying. We say that ‘every blessing is a curse and every curse is a blessing,’” Kizzy said, licking her fingers. Then she took a sip of coffee.

  “My father used to tell me that when I was just a little girl,” Nadya said.

  “It’s true, child. Look at it more deeply as your life takes its course, and you will find that it is always true,” Kizzy said as she looked into Nadya’s eyes.

  Smiling warmly, the old woman put her shawl around Nadya’s shoulders and held her like a daughter as they sat side-by-side watching through the window of her wagon as the others awakened and gathered around the fire to brew their morning coffee.

  Finally, after some time, Nadya walked back to her wagon to look for Hanzi and Lil. It was late morning, and she was surprised that Hanzi had not come searching for her sooner. He was usually hungry when he awoke.

  When Nadya got back to her, wagon she found it empty. Then she walked to the center of camp to see if Hanzi had gone there looking for her or Devorah, but he was nowhere to be seen. As she headed towards Devorah’s wagon, she saw two of the other children who had spurned Hanzi and refused to play with him because he was slow. “Have either of you seen Hanzi?” she asked. As she studied the children she thought about her own upbringing. Her parents would never have allowed their offspring to treat anyone the way these boys treated Hanzi. But these children were not Romany, and they were not raised to respect all living creatures. They felt superior, and so they missed all of the fine qualities Hanzi had to offer as a friend.

  “No.” Both boys shook their heads.

  Devorah was still in bed when Nadya arrived at her wagon. “Have you seen Hanzi?” she asked.

  “No, not this morning,” Devorah said, stretching.

  “I have to go and find him.” She raced out of Devorah’s vurdun and headed toward the river.

  Panic set in.

  Nadya hoped he had listened to her. She’d told him time and again to stay away from the water when she was not with him. Although she’d tried to teach him, he could not seem to learn to swim. Her legs trembled as she ran. There was nothing to be seen at the river, but that didn’t mean he hadn’t drowned. Sweat trickled down into her blouse as she felt her heart racing. What if he had gone off into the forest again? Lately he had developed the habit of taking the dog and wandering through the woods, searching for rocks and tiny treasures. She had warned him repeatedly that there were wolves and other dangerous animals, not to mention people who might do him harm, in the forest. She had scolded him for his adventures, and yet, because of his mental c
ondition, he never seemed to remember what she said.

  Nadya came back to the main campsite to check and see if Hanzi had turned up before she went off into the other side of the forest in search of him.

  Lydia, one of the young women, sat on a rock beside the fire drinking a cup of strong black coffee when Nadya came rushing up to her, out of breath.

  ‘What is it, Nadya? Are you all right?” Lydia asked.

  “Yes, I am all right, but no, everything is not all right… Hanzi is gone. I don’t know where he went… Have you seen him?”

  “No, I just woke up.”

  “I’m going to look in the forest for him. I think that he has probably gone off chasing that dog of his,” she shook her head.

  “Let me come with you. It’s too dangerous for you to go all alone.”

  “I don’t want to involve anyone else… I will be right back… Wait here for me.”

  For a few minutes, Lydia waited, thinking she should not allow Nadya to go off by herself. Then, overcome with guilt, she put her cup down and walked in to the forest, following Nadya’s direction.

  Chapter 54

  The men arrived in the city of Warsaw earlier in the afternoon than expected, so they hid by blending in with the population while waiting for nightfall. They had decided that it would be best to separate into small groups, thereby not drawing attention. Some of them sat in the local taverns eating and drinking. Others walked the streets, window shopping. Christian bought a silver heart necklace to bring back for Nadya and a small dog carved out of wood for Hanzi. Ion accompanied him. Although the men were watchful and there was worry of what was to come, in the Romany fashion, their spirits remained high.