The Gypsy Witch

by Roberta Kagan

  The influenza hit us hard, the year that you were ten. You must remember having it. Your slender shoulders racked with a dry cough that took your breath away. Jan stayed up all night with you and could not be lured from your side to rest. Even when I told him to sleep, that I would stay with you he would not go. Occasionally dozing by your bedside he wanted to be there in case you woke up and called for him. Dr. Stein and Hanna came often and provided you with medicine. Slowly you got better.

  One night your father started coughing. I lit the candle by the bed and he was covered in a red rash. Rain poured from the sky that night, but I took Mara and rode to Dr. Stein's house. Hannah answered the door and knew immediately that something was wrong. She feared you had relapsed, but I explained it wasn't you, but Jan who was ill.

  The doctor followed me back to our farm. His clothes soaking wet when he arrived, he did not stop to dry off. Instead he went to the bedroom your father and I shared.

  He offered medicine, and told me to watch him and see how he did.

  Jan' grew weak. I tried all of the medicine I knew, but to no avail.

  Agonized but left with no other choice, I found a messenger and offered him a good sum to go to Petrograd and find Rasputin.

  I had heard that Grigori was living in the court of the Romanov's now. He was the only one who could heal the heir to the dynasty. Tales circulated that there was a curse on the child where upon he bled and could not stop bleeding. Grigori was the only one who could stop the flow of blood. Rumors spread like wild fire throughout Europe of the mad monk who was a miraculous healer, and the power he had over Alexandria the Czarina of Russia. Without him, it was said, the boy Alexi would surely die. There had been talk of an attempt on his life by a prostitute who he had treated poorly. Everyone said he was magic, because she cut his stomach open, in a surprise attack, spilling his insides all over the street. Against miraculous odds he did not die. He could not be killed, they said.

  Of course I knew it to be true, and I knew why. He still wore my blessing and as long as he did he was protected from harm. He could not be killed.

  I asked Hannah to write a letter for me begging Grigori to come and help my husband. Kindly she refrained from asking me any questions, and I was relieved that she did. Please, I implored him, you are my only hope. Then I sent the letter by messenger.

  When a week had passed and I received no answer I found another person and sent off another letter This time I would pay only upon his return with an answer from Grigori.

  It was two weeks and I was frantic. Jan's condition was growing worse by the day. His body burned with fever so I tried to cool his forehead with wet cloths.

  Dr. Stein tried every medicine he knew. Although he was helpless, the doctor and Hannah arrived at the farm every other night to check on Jan's condition.

  I stayed by Jan's side, waiting for Grigori. I knew, beyond a doubt, he could save my husband. In the letter I offered him any sum of money that he wanted, and I would gladly have paid.

  On a Tuesday evening the messenger returned.

  "I'm sorry, ma’am. I saw Rasputin and he refuses to come. He says to tell you that you sent him away and he has no intentions of helping you or your husband. I hate to give you this news and I hope you'll still pay me."

  My throat closed up and I couldn't answer. Nodding, I gave him a handful of coins. Satisfied, he left.

  I sunk into the chair at Jan's bedside.

  Every day he suffered and I knew he was slipping away from me, and there was nothing I could do to save him. I would have gone to the medicine woman, but I was afraid he would die while I was gone. I dared not leave him for a moment.

  On my knees I prayed, I begged God to let him live. Take me instead I bargained over and over but God was not listening.

  When I knew the end was coming, guilt filled me so strongly that I could not fight the need to tell him.

  I grasped his hand in both of mine and looked into those eyes that had brought me out of pain and into such love and joy as I could never have imagined.

  Tears filled the back of my eyes.

  "Jan, there's something I must tell you." I could barely speak, but I knew I had to go on.

  "Ten years ago. Grigori came back and you were in town and mama was asleep and Oh God, Jan forgive me please...."

  The tears flooded down my face like a river.

  "I should have told you sooner, but I ....."

  Gently he placed his cold hand over my lips and looked into my eyes.

  The deep aqua of his eyes where I had seen joy and love so often, was now glazed, his face was serious as he said.........

  Chapter Eleven…

  "S

  hhhh" his voice barely audible. "It's okay, love, I already know."

  Unable to control the trembling, I watched the man who had been my husband and dearest friend, slipping away from me. He deserved to know the truth. My throat went dry, as I removed his hand from my lips.

  " Jan, Margot is Grigori's child." I told him.

  Margot, I am sorry that I had to tell you this, but it is necessary for your future that you know.

  Jan's answer was the most beautiful thing anyone has ever said to me. "She is my child. I raised her and I love her." That smile that comforted me as no other came over his face. "I knew about Grigori, but never for one day have I felt that she belonged to anyone else. She may not be of my blood, but she carries my heart. As soon as Dr. Stein put that little girl in my arms, she became my daughter, our daughter."

  "I'm so sorry, Jan. I never meant to hurt you. I don't know if it matters, but that was the only time I betrayed you"

  "Please, love, I have no regrets. You've made my life so much more than I could ever have hoped for. You have always been my angel, my reason for living and whatever happened makes no difference. I love you, I always have and I always will."

  For a brief second, the light came back into his eyes. Through my tears, I watched and hoped against hope that he was coming back to me.

  "Please, God, don't take him. I'll do anything, anything."

  He winked and touched my face one last time, and although it was strained, he smiled that old familiar smile, closed his eyes and was gone.

  It was early December and a light coat of virgin snow had fallen the previous night. I gazed out the window to see the morning sunlight sprinkling down in a rainbow of diamonds across the pure white powder.

  My heart was as empty, as if someone had cut it out leaving a big hole that was bleeding through my entire body. Glued to the bed looking at his lifeless body, I was terrified.

  You ran into the room with Sprite wagging his tail right behind you. You called to me. "Mama, Mama, can I have some cookies?"

  You stopped when you saw me and your little face turned pale as you ran into my arms. When you saw your father was dead, you cried in such heart wrenching sobs that your entire body turned blood red. Unable to catch your breath, you vomited on the floor.

  We buried him on a Sunday. Paralyzed with grief, I stood at the grave site holding your hand. Icicles hung from the trees and occasionally fell to the ground. My ears froze but I couldn't feel the pain. My eyes were dry, but the ache that had started in my heart now filled my stomach and throat as well.

  Your father had so many friends; he had gone out of his way to help others as long as I had known him. And now people came to me with their condolences, but I couldn't hear them when they spoke. I longed to be alone. Even Hannah was no comfort to me.

  Weeks passed and I did not eat, only drank alcohol, until in a drunken stupor, I slept. You tried to come to me, but I sent you away.

  Hannah came to stay with us, but her own responsibilities forced her to go home. She begged me to go with her, but I wouldn't move from the bed I had shared with your father. Wisely she begged me to allow her to take you to her home, and I agreed.

  For a few hours at a time, I would be fine. It would be as if nothing had happened, and then I would see something as simple as Jan's coat or hi
s shoes and the pain would come over me with a vengeance. My mind drifted back to the strawberry patch when we first met. How I had taken him for a fool. Laughing bitterly to myself, I realized it was I who had been the fool, he was a gift from God to me.

  When we were newly married, I remembered how he laughed and teased me as I braided garlic and hung it over our door to ward off evil spirits. When he saw how serious I was he stopped laughing and helped me to make the protective talisman. Jan, always so wise.

  I buried my face in his clothes breathing deeply trying to suck every bit of essence left of him into my body. So great was my sorrow that I fell to the ground and cried out his name, over and over until I was hoarse and could no longer make any sound. All of my strength drained, I wept quietly.

  Jan had been the only person who could ever pull me out of depths of my sadness, and now it was him that I grieved for. For the first time, I realized how much I had leaned on him. He had been my strength. Sheer exhaustion came over me and I slept.

  Deeper than I had ever slept before. It was as if I had left this world for a while. Jan came to me in a dream and begged me not to give up. He implored me to be a mother to you. His face was as close as mine is to yours now. I believe he came from the other side to help me as he always had in life. I felt his touch, and the spicy fragrance of his skin filled the room. He would always be with me by my side in spirit guiding me as I walked through life until the time we would be together again. Waiting with open arms, he said, he would be there to catch me when my time came to leave this earth. His lips were warm and tender on mine, and for the first time since he died I was comforted.

  When I awoke, I felt stronger and I made a decision. I would devote my life to raising you, but first I had something important that I needed to do.

  I pulled the black valise from the back of the closet and packed a few things, filled a small purse with money, and left. I walked over to the farm next door and asked if they would take care of our animals for a few weeks. Once I had arranged things, I was on my way.

  I had a debt to pay.

  So filled with anxiety, I felt pin pricks in my fingers as I took the coins from my velvet money purse to pay the man at the ticket booth in the train station.

  With his thick black hair graying at the temples and pushed down under his hat, he asked me, "Where're ya going?'

  "Petrograd," I answered.

  Thinking to myself, (to the court of the Romanov's to find Grigori Rasputin).

  Chapter Twelve…

  I

  n the wee hours of a frigid morning, on the 29th of December in the year of 1916, I arrived in Petrograd. After a long and exhausting journey, I was tired and famished. But I had a mission and would not rest until it was complete.

  Before I left the train, with its foul odors and uncomfortable seats, I asked directions to the Winter Palace of the Romanovs. Carefully, I listened and committed to memory all that I heard. Then, disembarking onto the platform I felt the remembered chill of the frozen Russian winter. Forceful winds blew as I took my suitcase and began my journey.

  Excruciating pain from the cold shot through my toes like tiny bullets, as I made my way on foot to the palace.

  Deserted, the silent streets stretched before me. The icy chill bit my nose. Water dripped from my eyes, freezing on my lashes. I rubbed my already blistering hands together in an effort to warm them.

  I arrived several hours later. Leafless trees adorned with snow surrounded the Palace. A huge structure, golden in the sun, appeared to go on for miles, with rows of more windows than I had ever seen. A tall column stood before the castle with a statue at the top wearing wings like an angel.

  I must have looked very out of place, because I was immediately approached by a guard with a black thick mustache, similar to the ones worn by the Romany men. He wanted to know my purpose for being there. I asked to see Grigori Rasputin.

  A vulgar knowing laugh sprung from his lips, causing my face to go scarlet.

  "Another village girl looking for the amorous monk? Well, I am truly sorry, little miss, but I can't admit anyone who is not of the court."

  Turning his back on me, he started to walk away. Filled with desperation, I called out to him, "Sir, kind sir, please...you must listen to me."

  Without turning, he continued on his way. Panic filled my mind. I realized that after all of this travel I might not be admitted to the palace at all. The thought of returning home without seeing Grigori infuriated me. I had to think of something...

  Final Chapter ….

  "S

  ir, I can offer you money. Plenty of money. I will pay you whatever you ask. I must see Rasputin."

  His thick rigid body turned at a perfect right angle to face me. A heavy coat the color of red bricks sheltered him from the cold.

  "Money, you say? How much?"

  A sparkle of greed in his eyes indicated: that for the right price he would take me to Grigori.

  Negotiations began. With half my life savings spent on a single bribe, I entered the palace.

  I was dumbstruck by the majesty of it. Illuminated by crystal chandeliers that hung heavily from the ceilings, the large rooms dwarfed me. Pictures of the Romanov family hung in brushed gold frames on the ivory colored walls. The heels of the guard's boots as they hit the black and cream checkered marble floor echoed as only sound in an otherwise soundless palace. As he led me along I saw a staircase so magnificent that it stopped me for a moment. It curved around on two sides with white carved banisters, meeting in the center to form a high balcony. Painstakingly perfect carvings of vines adorned the entire area. I gasped in awe.

  Poking my back with his elbow, the guard looked around to be sure we had not been seen in the palace. Then, turning back, he looked at me "Move along now, there is no time to stand around."

  He took my arm and pulled me forward.

  "Move along now."

  The guard noticed I had stopped and in fear for his job he wanted to hurry me out of sight. I followed quickly without a word.

  My heart pounded so loudly I feared he would hear it as we made our way through the endless rooms up to an antechamber. With a hard knock on the door, not waiting for an answer, the guard turned the handle and bid me enter. Then, leaving me on my own, he walked away. My knees trembled as I came into the hall.

  In the center of the large open area, surrounded by elegantly dressed women, Grigori sat on a plush golden colored velvet chair. His hands gestured and his smile warmly charmed the ladies who gazed at him spellbound.

  When he saw me standing in the doorway, his face grew dark. His features twisted into a grimace that broke into a smirk. Then a look of amusement took over. "Well, well, well, what brings you here, my little gypsy? And how, dare I ask, did you get in?"

  I glared at him for a moment. "You bring me here, Grigori."

  "Oh, so finally you miss me? Perhaps it is far too late for that."

  "Perhaps it is, but I would like to speak with you, alone."

  "Excuse me ladies, this is an old friend from a time long past."

  Breezing past me, his black robe floating around him, he walked outside the door. I followed.

  "So, my little flower, say that you missed me."

  "Of course, Grigori. I missed you." The words tasted like bitter bile on my lips.

  "Hmm, we did have some lovely times, did we not?'

  I nodded, unable to speak.

  His eyes penetrated my clothes and I was sure his memory reconstructed a time when he had shared my bed. Licking his lips, he considered how to go forward. Silent for several minutes, he seemed lost in thought. Then a look of confidence came over him and he smiled.

  "Tonight I have an appointment with a Princess at the Moika Palace, one I must keep, I am afraid. However, a midnight rendezvous would be a pleasant change from all of these stuffy court ladies. You always were quite the lover, my dear."

  He took my hand and pressed it to his lips.

  "I will be dining with the Yusupov's and
I am sure that if you go to the kitchen at their palace they will find work for you- cleaning perhaps. Then, when the dinner is done, I will find you. One of these ladies," he gestured to the women who awaited his return in the antechamber, "will do me the favor of driving you over. However, you must not speak of our intended meeting. Tell them you are an old friend of mine who has come to me in hopes of my finding work for you."

  Amazed at his arrogance, I nodded in agreement.

  Satisfied with my response, he arranged for a ride and before I knew it I was on my way.

  The palace of the Yusupov's, small compared to the Romanov's, smacked of elegance. Off to the kitchen I went, and requested a day's work in exchange for a meal. The head cook, a large boned woman of undetermined age, with a light dusting of hair on her thick chins, agreed. I would be required to dust and shine all of the floors. Instead of making me finish my work first, out of pity she fed me right away. Until I began eating I did not realize the extent of my hunger. As I ate, I overheard her and another cook deep in conversation.

  "Look at all this food and wine. The master insisted I order so much. Rather kindly, he said we could each have a plate before the guests arrive."

  "This is so odd for the master to have a dinner party while the princess is out of town."

  "I can't recall him ever doing it before. The wife has always been present at his dinners in the past. Who is to be attending?"

  "Only one I am sure of is Grigori Rasputin. I think there will be others but I don't know who they are."

  "Have you ever seen him?'

  "Rasputin?"

  "Yes"

  "No, never, but I hear he has magical powers and all women fall in love with him."