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Authors: Roberta Kagan

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BOOK: The Heart Of A Gypsy
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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 condition, 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
.

C
hapter
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. 

Finally night fell and the hour arrived. It was decided that they would all meet on the platform, but would pretend to be strangers.

The train’s loud rumble sounded like a tornado as it broke the silence of the night. At fourteen minutes after nine it came to a jolting halt in the Warsaw station. The partisans grew jittery with anticipation as they waited for the signal from the Polish leader to attack. Unsuspecting of any foul play, the SS guards strutted about the train station, joking and flirting with the local girls, offering to buy them beer from the vendor. The Polish leader gave the signal and then, as was planned, with a bird call coming from one of the
Sinti
that could never be detected as unauthentic, the ambush began. The element of surprise worked, leaving the SS confused as the ratta-tat-tat of gunfire dropped men where they had stood, laughing, only moments before. Quickly the plan went into effect.  Each group began to carry out its designated task, and before the Nazis realized what was taking place, the prisoners were freed and armed, while most of the guards had been killed. The few who remained alive ran for their lives, and the art was easily confiscated.  There was no time to linger. Once the mission was accomplished, the men retreated out of the city limits.

Back in the forest, the mission was proclaimed a success; only three freedom fighters had been lost, and they had taken down a whole train of SS guards. The released prisoners gratefully followed them and now stood at their sides, ready to take up the cause themselves.

“We will all return to our homes. This has been a good night,” the leader of the Polish Underground said.

Bottles of whiskey that had been purchased earlier that day and hidden were now raised, while freedom and death to the Third Reich were toasted.

Christian had fought bravely; he’d moved quickly to eliminate the guards. Because he knew it was a imperative to preserve bullets, for the first time he’d killed a man with a knife. It had been difficult; he’d felt the man’s breath on his face as he’d died. And the death of any man, even a Nazi, at his hand, troubled Christian. The others were excited about the victory, but Christian was glad it was over with. Ion noted with disappointment that his parents were not among the prisoners that they’d freed. Christian had hoped that he would be able to bring Nadya’s family home to her. When he saw the young boys lying dead, it haunted him. Even though they were the enemy and he knew it must be done, Christian though it such a waste of life. Ion had lost too much to the Nazis; he was filled with anger, and consequently felt no pity for the death of the young guards.

C
hapter
55

Lydia saw Nadya’s footsteps in the muddy earth, but she could not catch up with her as Nadya raced in frantic search of Hanzi.

Nadya knew it was far too close to the road to risk calling out Hanzi’s name. One could never be sure who traveled along the open road. From the protection of the trees, she looked out to the street and then she saw something that made her blood run cold. 

C
hapter
56

The men rode quietly on horseback through the night. They were headed back home to their respective camps.  As much as they wanted to brag in excitement at the success of their mission, they knew it was best to stay silent. Even in the woods, danger could be lurking. The art work was hidden in a safe house in Warsaw, so they were not burdened by carrying it back through the forest. It would be sold directly from the house, and the money would be sent to a Swiss bank. 

Along the way, as each group turned off in different directions to return home, they separated with hugs and well wishes to the each other.

It had been two days that Christian had been away from Nadya, and he was overwhelmed with longing. When he was forced to spend even an hour away from her, it seemed like a lifetime. And he knew how happy she would be when she saw him return safely, with Ion at his side. For Christian, they could not arrive back at the gypsy camp soon enough.

Once Ion’s group turned off the path on their way home, because of the loss of two of their men, there were spare horses, so he and Christian each rode alone. At dawn a gentle rain trickled from the sky, sending warm pin pricks of water down to the earth. Then God painted the morning sky in soft muted shades of pink and purple against the sunrise. “It’s a good omen; do you see that?” Ion pointed as Christian looked up to see the rainbow. 

“It is a good omen.  It is like tears of joy coming down from the sky and filling it with brilliant color. Maybe it means that the war will be over soon,” Ion said.

“Perhaps… I truly hope so,” Christian said. “I’ve had enough. And God knows your sister would like to see this end.”

“We all hope so. Then, maybe I can get married too, yes? That would be nice, a soft and gentle wife to warm my bed and cook my food.”

“That would be very good. I cannot tell you because there just are not enough words, how happy I am to be married and to have found such a perfect woman.”

“My sister, perfect…ha!” Ion laughed.

“Perfect for me…and that is what you need my brother. No one on this earth is perfect… You must find a woman who is perfect for you.”

“I hope to; it is my dream…my goal…when this is all over,” Ion said.

“Yes…when this is all over.”

C
hapter
57

As Nadya gazed out to the road from her hiding place in the forest, she saw Lil lying on the ground.  Hanzi had flung himself across the body of his beloved dog. From where Nadya stood she heard Hanzi’s cries of pain and anguish. Without thinking of the danger she ran out into the open…to the side of the road.

“Hanzi what happened? Are you all right?” Nadya asked.

Screaming and wailing with sorrow, he did not answer as Nadya rushed up to him. The dog had been shot, that much she could see. Blood pooled everywhere, and Hanzi was covered in it. Not sure how or why this had occurred, she knew that she must grab the boy and run, for whoever had done this could quite possibly still  be somewhere in the vicinity. With cold, trembling hands Nadya grabbed Hanzi’s shirt, trying to lift him, but he’d grown too heavy for her. And before she knew it, a group of five SS officers came traipsing out of the woods on the other side of the road. They carried rifles and newly-killed game. It was apparent that they had been out hunting.  

“Lovely afternoon, Frauline,” they taunted. “You look like a gypsy to me. Does she not?” One of the men smiled slyly, “and dare I ask who this boy is, it looks to me like we have a mentally deficient child here? Is he yours?”

Nadya did not answer. Pulling harder at Hanzi, she could not believe the strength of the child as he held fast to his dead pet.

Finally Nadya pulled Hanzi free, and taking his hand, she tried to run back to the safety of the forest. One of the Nazi officers stopped her by grabbing her shoulder roughly.

“Where are you going is such a hurry?” He shook his head at her. “Tsk, tsk…little lady, we’ve only just met. You can’t leave so quickly.” He held on to her as another of the officers, a dark-haired man of barely five feet, six inches tall, pointed his gun in her face.

BOOK: The Heart Of A Gypsy
3.7Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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