The Heart Of A Gypsy (9 page)

“Yes, now,” Ion sighed, “Now things are very different.”

C
hapter
13

They heard them before they saw them. Although the group of escapees tried to approach in silence, Ion and Christian had trained their ears to every sound. A bush crunched, followed by soft footsteps as the group entered through a small pathway in the forest.

There were five men a woman. They all seemed to be of middle age. The woman held the hand of a ten-year-old girl who whimpered softly. Christian saw that the child’s shoes were worn, and blood from her feet soaked through the holes in the leather.  Only one of the men carried a suitcase, a black cardboard valise.  He walked up to Ion and gave him the agreed-upon password. Then he handed Ion an envelope filled with money. 

“It’s all there. I promise you,” the man said, his hands trembling.

“Very well, then let’s get started,” Ion answered.

The man nodded as the rest of group looked around nervously.

“Come,” Ion smiled, “Follow me to camp. You’ll have some food and coffee before we begin our journey. It is important that you eat. We have no idea when you will see food again.”

They walked silently behind Ion and Christian. And as they did, Christian could not take his mind from the vision of the child’s bleeding feet. He wanted to see if someone in camp had an extra pair of shoes. It would help the little girl make the trek, which would be a difficult hike even with good shoes. If Christian could find some suitable footwear for the child, he would replace them himself as soon as he returned from the mission, even if he must take a risk by going into town to buy them.

Several of the women were awake. A small, smoldering fire had been carefully placed so as not to be seen by outsiders. A pot hung suspended over the fire, heating strong black coffee. The women gave the group slices of cured meat and raw vegetables. Each of the travelers received a thermos of water for the trip.

While Christian leaned against a tree, sipping the potent bla
ck brew, Ion left. He returned
moments later, carrying a Nazi uniform.

“Put this on. You will certainly look the part with your coloring. That will mean you should have no trouble delivering these people to the Swiss border.”

Christian nodded, taking the uniform from Ion.

“We have a stolen Nazi truck for you to use. You are to say that you are delivering them for a special work assignment in a factory in Germany. If anyone asks, it is top secret. The only time you should encounter any questions is at the border. Avoid the patrols, if you can. If not, take this gun, and if you must, shoot to kill.”

Shmul walked over, carrying the forged papers for each of the refugees. He watched as Christian put the uniform on over his clothes. “It is your choice, Christian. If you are not comfortable, do not feel that you must do this.”

“But I must,” Christian answered. Then he turned and saw Nadya had awakened. She was sitting cross-legged under a tree.  He smiled at her and felt as if his heart would melt like ice on summer day. She returned his smile, but he saw the worry in her glistening eyes.

“You are sure?” Shmul asked again.

“I’ll do it. Someone has to. These people need help.” Christian’s eyes never left Nadya.

As she watched the men, Nadya’s fear turned to irritation, and she got up. Stomping over to Christian, she glared at him. “You are either a fool or the bravest man I know,” she said.

“I’m neither. I am just a man who hopes to do some good.” It was strange, for even though Christian feared what the next twenty-four hours might bring, just seeing Nadya’s lovely face made him feel as if all was right with the world.

Clearly angry, she paced around him like a cat. Watching her, he had to stifle the desire to smile because he found her to be so adorable when she was angry. Her face tightened, and her lips turned the color of a crimson flame as she continued to stalk him.

“Please don’t be angry with me. I’m sorry if I’ve upset you,” he said, and he was, but still he was glad that she was concerned about him. That meant she cared.

“Here, take this.” She flung a silver amulet at him; it was suspended on a thick silver chain. “Wear it, and don’t take it off until you return safely. Do you understand?”

He nodded, amused, but willing to oblige.

Superstitious little Nadya. He smiled, placing the necklace around his neck.  Perhaps she cared for him in the same way that he cared for her. Could he dare hope as much?

“Thank you. I promise I will not remove it.”

Not answering him, she turned and walked back to her tent. Hiding the tears that flowed freely down her cheeks, she entered and fell upon her eiderdown, and wept.

Christian watched as she left. He said a silent prayer that the amulet would work and that he would return to see her again.

Chapter
14

As Christian walked by the window of the truck he glanced at his reflection.  How strangely like a Nazi he looked in his black SS uniform and hat. Seeing himself as a Nazi was repugnant to him. Christian hated the Nazis, hated everything they stood for, and most of all he hated what they had done to his life.  He wondered what his colleagues would think if they knew the truth, if they knew the secret that he kept. The thought made him sick at heart.

Loading up the truck had been a minimal job, and in just a few minutes they were ready to leave.  There shaded by the darkness, standing alone in under the arms of a large weeping willow tree, Christian saw Nadya. Her arms were crossed over her chest and she would not meet his eyes as he backed the truck up to get in line with the open path that would lead him out to the road.  As he pulled out of the camp he turned back; he wanted to see her again, if only for a moment, but she was gone. At first the path was bumpy, but soon he’d come to the road where the terrain smoothed out and the ride was less difficult. While he drove he wondered what Nadya thought seeing him in this horrible uniform. The group of refugees was in the back of the truck, handcuffed to the bench as part of the disguise; the husband and wife remained quiet lost in their own thoughts as the child slept. The others sat staring blankly into the night. Glancing back, Christian felt a pang of pain for the couple with their ragged peasant clothing. At least he had been able to find a pair of suitable shoes for the child. The mother had cried with gratitude when he gave them to her, and he’d felt his heart shatter. Even though he’d completed missions like this before, that had been prior to his arrest. Now he had a healthy respect for the torture he might endure if he were to be caught, and his nerves were stretched thin. Things went smoothly at the first two unavoidable checkpoints. Christian raised his hand in the expected Nazi greeting and in a deep voice mumbled “Heil Hitler” as the guard waved him through.  But at the border between Poland and Germany, he had been stopped and questioned. A slender boy with mustard-colored hair of no more than nineteen years wearing a gray Nazi uniform had asked where he was headed. “Dachau,” Christian told him. “I am delivering these prisoners for a special task.”

“Why the child?” Looking in the back, the guard had assessed the situation and was sure that there was no purpose he could conceive of for a family.

“I don’t ask questions; I just do what my superiors ask of me, and I suggest that you do the same. It is by a higher authority that I have been ordered to complete this mission. Do not attempt to stop me or you will surely find yourself among those who threaten our national security.”

The pimple-faced boy made a quick judgment. He decided it was in his best interest not to challenge this higher-ranking official of the SS.  The best avenue, the young Nazi decided, was to feign ignorance, so he nodded his head.

“Very well then, move on,” the youth said.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Christian drove along, making every effort not to speed away, lest he draw more unwanted questions.

Chapter
15

Christian knew that the border with Switzerland would be well guarded, and that it was not his mission to go beyond the meeting point at the Alps, so he decided that it was wise to take the back roads as he had been instructed. With care to be sure he was not being followed, he arrived at the meeting place late the following night. When Christian parked the truck, the group of refugees sat, shivering, as they waited in silence. The darkness surrounded them, and the area was lonely and desolate. Christian pondered what he would do if the guide did not arrive.  He couldn’t just leave them here, alone at the side of the road. The passengers looked vulnerable, all of them pale in the moonlight as they sat together holding hands, praying for safety. One of the men recited a Hebrew prayer in a soft whisper. Would they live or die? Christian could only wonder and do his part.  As he watched them, Christian began to wonder who these people were before the Nazi invasion. They were Jews; that much he knew for sure. Had they been in hiding since the invasion? What would that be like, to be locked up in some dark room, afraid to make a sound? He could not imagine.

Finally the sun brought the promise of a new day. But with it also came danger. Dawn had come and the guide who was to continue the mission still had not arrived.  Panic began to set in among the group as they wondered what would become of them. They were sure that the man in the uniform would leave them soon because he was only contracted to deliver them to this point.  The mother of the child began to fret. When Christian saw the distress in their eyes, he tried to smile and reassure them that all was going according to plan, even though he feared something had gone wrong. During the night he’d decided that if the guide did not come he must take them to Switzerland himself.  Since he had never crossed the Alps, he had no idea what to expect. But these people could not be abandoned, that much he knew for sure, and therefore it would fall upon him to lead them on to Switzerland. While Christian stood smoking a cigarette, watching the line of grey smoke and contemplating his next move, a tall, lean man whose facial bones looked so pronounced that they seemed to jut out of his skin, wearing a black wool coat and fur hat came toward them. He carried a walking stick as he moved briskly over to where the group stood.

“The roses are plentiful this year,” he told Christian. This was the code phrase. Christian was relieved to see the man who would continue this journey. It would be a pleasure to leave now and go back to the gypsy camp.

“So they are,” Christian answered, giving the guide the other half of the code phrase.

Then, without any further conversation with Christian, the new guide turned to the refugees. “You are now to follow me,” he said, and he led his them away. Christian found himself concerned for their safety, and he wondered for a moment what the next day would bring for them. He had no way of knowing. After silently wishing them well, Christian got back into the truck and headed back to camp.

While wearing his uniform and riding through Nazi-occupied Germany and Poland, Christian found that he looked so perfectly Aryan that he was allowed to travel without question.

C
hapter
16

While Christian was gone, Ion decided he must go to Tobar and tell him of his decision. It would be unpleasant, and he had avoided it as long as he could. When Ion entered Tobar’s tent, Tobar came to him, hugging him, and kissing him on both cheeks.

“My brother, it is good to see you,” Tobar smiled and patted Ion’s back. “I have waited a long time. Have you come with an answer?”

“Yes,” Ion sighed, “I’m afraid I have.” He saw the anticipation in Tobar’s eyes and felt apologetic for what he had to tell him. “I’m sorry, Tobar. Nadya has refused your proposal.”

“But you are her guardian. You are the one who will have the final say,” Tobar said.

“This is true, but would you want her if she did not want to be married to you? Tobar, this would not make for a good life.”

Tobar considered what Ion had said, and for several moments he did not speak. Ion thought the matter to be closed and turned to leave.

“I would be good to her; she would learn to love me,” Tobar broke the silence.

“Perhaps, but I can’t force her. I don’t feel right about it,” Ion said.

“Are you going to allow her to marry the
gage
with the blond hair?”

“Christian?”

“Yes, that is his name.”

“I don’t know. I am going to talk to the
Shera Rom
about it. I don’t even know if she would have him.”

“And if she would, could you allow such a thing to take place?  What would your father say? Should it not be the
Rom
against the
gage
? Should it not be brothers first? I am
Rom
. If the
Kris
were in session I could appeal your decision, but who knows when there will be another council with this war on?”

“Tobar… I understand how you feel, but I cannot make her love you. As I said, I am not sure that the
Shera Rom
will approve a match between my sister and a non-
Roma
. Then I am not even sure that Nadya will want this. All I am telling you is that I cannot force my sister into a loveless marriage. Forgive me, my brother.” Ion turned and left Tobar standing and watching him as he walked away.