The Gypsy Witch (6 page)

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?"
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.
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."