The Gypsy Witch

by Roberta Kagan

Young and stubborn, I walked away from him. Within days my mother had become an old woman, left eye drooping down exposing the raw inside of her lower lid. Not willing to admit I'd been wrong, I decided I would go into town and find the gago doctor myself. Perhaps, I thought his medicine magic was stronger than my own.

  Diligently at work, trying to harvest our crops before the first frost, Jan did not see me as I rode away on horseback.

  The cool breeze felt morning fresh on my face, and the sweet smell of harvest permeated the air. Leaves of burgundy and orange crunched beneath her feet, as I maneuvered my horse along the trail into town.

  When I arrived, people scurried about. Two men dressed in fancy suits leaned against a wagon wheel, their jaws fat with tobacco as they chomped. With hands flaying about they negotiated a sale. Hurried along with purpose, ladies dressed in cotton frocks with fancy hats carried baskets of colorful fabric and ribbons. Vendors of all shapes and sizes populated the streets offering fresh fruits and vegetables, along with livestock. The luscious smell of fresh bread wafted out the open door of a bakery. Because I had never learned to read, the signs were meaningless to me. Pacing the streets, I wondered how I would ever find the doctor.

  Two of the red-haired boys who had followed me relentlessly when I had gone to see the medicine woman, stood munching on apples outside of a candy store. As they glanced over at me, I noticed them whisper to each other as their eyes narrowed. Being outsmarted by a gypsy angered them. One crossed the street and came towards me. A chill ran up the back of my neck and in an effort to get back to my horse I picked up my pace. Out of an alleyway the other boy came walking towards me, at his side a heavy set policeman sauntered along.

  "This good for nothing gypsy stole a chicken from my brother and me." He said, pointing just inches from my face with his index finger.

  "I did not. I never stole anything from you. You chased me and I got away."

  The policeman looked skeptical.

  "We had your kind here in town before, it usually means trouble. Where are the rest of you people? You folks always come in big groups, you call them caravans, right?"

  "I don't live in a caravan anymore. I am married. My husband is Jan Reinhard."

  "She's a liar. You know how they are, they're all liars. They come into town and steal from the farmers and con our women with their fortune telling."

  The police man licked his lips as he looked at my breasts. Fat jiggled on his sweaty face as I saw him stand straighter. Thick fingers grabbed my arm. I was frightened. We had been taught as children to fear the law. When the police came upon the gypsies they always came to arrest us or if we were lucky send us on our way. Early on I knew that as far as the Rom was concerned the law had absolute power. He could do as he wished with me and there would be no one to answer to.

  "Please, I never stole anything from these boys. I came to town to find the doctor.'

  "Sure and you expect me to believe that?" Fingers twitching his grip on my arm tightened, and I tried to pull away.

  "Let me go, please..."

  "I don't think so, I think we need to take a deeper look into this situation"

  The way he was staring at my body, I knew I was in trouble.

  "Please" I begged again, struggling to get away.

  A tall slender woman close to my age walked out of a doorway just a few feet in front of us. In the sunlight her hair was the color of maple syrup and as she turned towards me I saw that her eyes were golden like liquid honey.

  "What's going on here?"

  "I'm sorry if we disturbed you, miss, but we have a gypsy girl here causing trouble."

  "I'm not causing any trouble. I need to find the doctor, my mother is sick and now these boys are accusing me of stealing and I'm being arrested."

  I tugged trying to release his grasp.

  "Let her go. I know this girl; she's come to see me."

  When she motioned for me to follow the officer's hand went limp.

  "My father's a physician. Perhaps, he can help you."

  She led me to a building up the street, opened the door and together we walked into a crowded office. People of all ages sat in rows waiting their turn to see the gago medicine man, but she took me in ahead of everyone.

  "Father, do you have a moment?"

  "Yes dear, always for you. Come into my office."

  An ornately carved desk placed in front of a large picture window was the first thing I saw when I entered the doctors office. A rug of muted colors covered most of the hardwood floor. The doctor motioned for us to sit and we both did.

  "Who is your friend?"

  "Actually, I don't even know her name, but I heard a commotion outside and when I went out the police were arresting her. It seems she had come into town looking for a medical assistance for her mother."

  "So, what is your name, young lady?"

  "Zigeuya Reinhard. I need help, sir, because my mother is very sick. It might be a curse someone has put on her, but I don't think so. I tried all the medicine I know. She can no longer walk and needs help to eat. I would have brought her here if I could, but she is unable to travel."

  "I see. Where do you live?"

  I gave him directions to the farm and he promised me he would visit after finishing the day's patients. In the face of the gago doctor, there was a special light of kindness. That was my first impression of him, and I was right.

  When we left the office, the girl introduced herself. "My name is Hannah Stein."

  "Thank you, Hannah, for everything."

  "I understand the ugliness of hatred and prejudice. My father and I are Jews."

  "I guess you know that I am of the Romany, by my clothes, but there is nothing that distinguishes you."

  "No, not really, except for the little skull cap my father wears."

  I had been so caught up in my own problems I hadn't noticed.

  "If you would like, come tonight with your father. My husband taught me to bake strudel. I'll prepare some. You were so kind to me today."

  "I'm glad I could help."

  I hurried back to my horse, I had left tied to a post a few feet from the building. Watching as a group of men riding bicycles filled the street, I huddled into an alleyway and wondered what it would be like to ride one of those things.

  Lucky for me Jan had been too busy to notice I had gone into town. He would have been worried. By the time he came back to the house for dinner I had returned.

  "The gago doctor is coming tonight. I went to town and found him."

  "I'm glad he's coming, but it isn't safe for you to go alone. You should have asked me to take you."

  "I know, but I knew you were busy."

  "I am never too busy to take care of you. You are so precious to me, love that I would not want anything to happen to you."

  "Yes, I know. I do. I just didn't want to be a burden."

  "You could never be a burden to me. You are everything that matters, can't you see that?'

  I nodded.

  "I'm glad the doctor is going to look at Mama. I think it's wise."

  "She looks bad."

  "Don't fret sweetheart, perhaps he will be able to help."

  He held me in his arms and feeling his strength, I relaxed. I could not help but think about what could have happened had the girl Hannah not come to my aid.

  It was well after nine that evening when the doctor and his daughter arrived by horse and buggy. I showed him to mama's room. When she saw him, my mother's eyes grew wide with fright.

  "Who is this man, why is he here?"

  Drool dribbled out of the side of her mouth as she spoke with slurred speech.

  "Mama, please let him look at you, he's a doctor."

  "A gago doctor? No...take him away...no."

  Panic shook her body and tremors crept across her face. When he saw this Jan walked over to her bedside and took her hand.

  "Mama, please let the doctor look at you. You know that I would never do anything to hurt you. Do it for me?"

&nb
sp; My mother's eyes met my husband's sincere ones and she nodded in agreement.

  Jan amazed me once again.

  Dr. Stein insisted that we leave him alone to examine the patient and after Jan smiled at me to let me know it would be alright, I agreed.

  The three of us sat in the kitchen in silence, with the strudel on the table untouched, awaiting the results.

  It wasn't long before Dr Stein returned.

  "Your mother is very ill, what she has cannot be cured. I can give her medicine to make her more comfortable. She will continue to require constant care, I'm afraid."

  "Is she dying?" I knew my voice came out as a croak, for as much as I had fought with her, I loved my mother.

  "She could live a long time in her condition. It's hard to say."

  I was angry. The gago doctor had proved little more than a waste of time. Unable to voice my distain I walked outside. Hannah followed me. "I'm sorry about your mother. If he could have done anything he would have."

  "I know." The anger dissipated and sadness took its place. "Thank you. I just don't know what I'm going to do when she's gone. The thought terrifies me."

  "I can understand, in a way. I mean not exactly. My mother died when I was born, but if I ever lost my father I don't know what I'd do."

  We shared a bond that day that built into a friendship, one I was hardly expecting.

  Hannah came to see me often. She brought hard cookies that we dunked into tea as we sat talking for hours. Over the years of living alone with her father he had come to be very dependent on her. Pretty as she was, I was sure that was why she remained unmarried. Worried that he could not get along without her she kept the house and his books at the office, as well as going to market and preparing meals. Somehow with all of these responsibilities she still found time to spend with me, and I was grateful.

  With mama sick things became overwhelming. She was unable to feed herself and required the use of a chamber pot. Jan, regardless of his own work, helped me daily. He fed mama and emptied her pot while I bathed her and changed her bedding. Most of the time she was depressed and her speech was difficult to understand. I found that I was always tired. Jan took over my responsibilities so I could rest. I felt bad, because he was working so hard himself. But he never complained.

  I knew I was pregnant when my bleeding did not come for two months. For two years Jan and I had been making love constantly and I had not conceived.

  The child I carried was Grigori's.

  Filled with guilt and anguish I looked at my husband and wondered how I could betray him with this lie. However, when I told him I thought I was pregnant he was so overjoyed that I didn't have the heart to tell him the truth.

  Insisting that I not lift anything or do any hard work, he made sure to indulge my every wish and took excellent care of mama.

  Desperately wanting to unburden myself I considered telling Hannah about Grigroi. But I was not sure I could make her understand, so I said nothing.

  Winter nights were spent watching the fire whirl in shades of orange and red laced with blue. Jan held me in his arms and I discovered the cold weather was my most favorite time of year. I knitted baby clothes and we made plans. Jan built a precious wooden crib which he painstakingly carved with tiny birds because I said they were good luck. Caught up in the joy of his love I forgot my predicament and convinced myself that we were having the child we had been wishing for.

  Thunder crashed through the early morning sky on that cool day in April that you were born. I awakened with a start to find the bed wet. Immediately reminded of the miscarriage I had in Siberia, I touched the area and looked at my hand half expecting to see blood. It was only water. By my side, Jan slept quietly. Not wanting to startle him, I gently shook his arm. His eyes opened slowly.

  "I'm having the baby. My water broke."

  Sleep left his face and he sprung to life immediately. "I'll get the doc and Hannah too."

  " What about mama? She needs to eat."

  "I'll explain everything to her. Stay in bed. She'll understand. I'll be back as soon as I can."

  He could ride as well if not better than I could so he would not be gone long.

  A little past one that afternoon, you were born. I wish you could have seen the look on Jan's face when he held you for the first time. How he loved you. Dr. Stein handed you to him and he beamed with pride as Hannah stood by smiling at me. What a glorious day that was. Together we decided to name you Margot; it was Jan's mother's name.

  Two nights after you were born I felt the emptiness on the other side of our bed. I rose to see if everything was alright. I found Jan holding you in his arms and looking out the window as he gently rocked you back to sleep. Quietly I walked over to him and put my arm around his waist. When he looked at me I saw the depth of love in his eyes. Then he leaned over, careful not to wake you, and kissed me.

  Mama, although she could not speak, was enraptured with you. Unsteady she shook her head when I asked if she wanted to hold you, instead I held you as she stroked the tiny black curls the stuck to your head. For the first time since her illness began she looked like she was at peace.

  And she was finally, for the next day Mama died.

  With a tray of food in my hands I went to her bed, she lay motionless. Without even touching her I knew she was gone. Mama had lived just long enough to see you come into the world and now she was on her way to be with papa throughout eternity.

  I should have been comforted, but I wasn't. I mourned in the Romany style, refusing food and filling myself with alcohol and black coffee.

  Concerned with your well being, Jan intervened. In his tender and understanding way, he tried to convince me to eat. My milk would dry up if I didn't, he told me. I couldn't. Stunned by the realization that I was an orphan, I lay in bed staring blankly at the wall.

  One afternoon Hannah came, she recognized my depression and spoke to Jan concerning a wet nurse. He agreed to take you to the home of a woman who she knew had given birth recently to a still born. Twice daily he hitched up the wagon and took you as I lay prostrated with grief. Until one morning the wet nurse came to our house. Because I wanted to meet her I forced myself out of bed. She was a buxom blond, with skin the color of crab apples. From the doorway I watched her cradle you in her arms and put you to her naked breast. Jan stood beside her, neither of them realized I was watching. She looked up at him and smiled. The woman's face told me that she found my husband attractive, far too much so.

  That night when he came to bed, for the first time since mama died I kissed him. Taking me in his arms he held me lovingly.

  "That woman that was here today? The wet nurse."

  "Yes."

  "What do you think of her?"

  "She's a nice lady. I was glad she was able to help us."

  "And do you find her pretty? Do you want her?"

  He laughed.

  "No, there is no other woman for me. Not now, not ever. You are my wife. From the first time I saw you sitting in the middle of my field stealing strawberries, what you actually stole was my heart. I married you and I vowed to love and cherish you for all of my life, and I do and I will. You are the only woman I will ever want, you can count on that. I could never be unfaithful to you. I would never have the desire. You are and always will be everything I need."

  Disgusted with myself as a quick memory of that single moment when I had wanted Grigori flashed through my mind. I squeezed my eyes shut and with great effort I willed it away.

  Early the following morning I got out of bed, washed up, cleaned the house and began to be a mother to you.

  The next ten years were the best of my entire life. You were a mild mannered little girl with a vivid imagination. Our little family lay sprawled out under a tree watching the clouds. I'd packed a picnic lunch because Jan liked to be with you as much as possible. After we ate we did some cloud gazing you told me what you saw in the sky.

  "Look mama, that one is a dog with a big snout."

  "What do you
see over there" Jan would ask as he pointed to a cloud formation that looked like a star.

  "I don't know papa, is that a real star or a cloud?"

  "It's anything you want it to be sweetheart. Anything at all." For Christmas one year, Jan built you a rocking horse. Until you were too big, you played on it every day. He carved you dolls and I made the clothes for them.

  We taught you to ride a horse and milk a cow. From Jan you learned to read, and he spent many winter nights by the fire reading you fairy tales. I told you stories of the Rom and our travels and our lives in the Kompanias. But you were most fascinated by Dr. Stein. You loved the gago medicine, even then. With the herbs in our garden I showed you the healings of our people, but you longed to be a doctor not a medicine woman. Hannah took you to her father's office. The older man enjoyed your enthusiasm and so he allowed you to help him out.

  As soon as you got home you ran into your father's arms. He lifted you high in the air and called you his angel. Then he swung you around until you were both laughing so hard that I had to put a stop to it so that you didn't get dizzy. After he put you down, you told him proudly of your accomplishments that day. "Papa, I set a broken arm”, or “Dr. Stein let me help him sew up a cut on a man's finger."

  For an entire year you begged us for a pet. An animal that could live inside the house, you said. Against my better judgment I allowed Jan to convince me to get a dog. I know you must remember "Spritz."

  The Zellman's had these little brown and white pups. To surprise you, early one morning while you were still asleep, Jan took the buggy and rode over to their farm. I don't know how much money it cost him, but when he pulled that tiny dog with a face all wrinkled up like an old man out of your yellow baby blanket we all fell in love. You ran through the house screaming with delight as the puppy followed you with its tail wagging wildly. We let you name him and you decided on "Spritz".

  A surprising addition to our family, the animal became a true friend. And, I must admit, I came to love that loyal creature dearly.

  They say that marriage takes the passion out of love. It was not so with us. Our love began like a flower and blossomed into an entire garden. Never once did our lovemaking seem old or routine. As soon as you fell asleep we lay together absorbed in the intimacy only years together can bring. But in the back of my mind I remained haunted by the truth that I had never shared with him.