The Heart Of A Gypsy (23 page)

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.

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 v
urdun
, 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.

C
hapter
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.

C
hapter
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.