against their olive colored skin. Many wore gold pieces as earrings, bracelets and necklaces and they danced in the sunlight flashing brightly against their dark skin. Their blue-black hair was shiny and kept long and braided. Veronique was amazed at how healthy and alive they all looked.
Packs of small barefooted children ran all
around the campsite, yelling and chasing each other playfully. Some of them were dressed in rags, but many of them were naked. Veronique smiled as she watched them frolicking like young animals.
105
The Gypsy King
At the foot of small hills, horses grazed while tethered with long strips of leather and there were many stiff-haired dogs wandering about, but none looked menacing. The smell of smoke permeated the air and she counted at least a dozen fires now that were throwing up thick blue ribbons of smoke into the morning air. Loud, clear voices from the gypsies rang all around the camp. Veronique felt warm gratitude towards these people of whom she had heard many things, but never had the opportunity to meet. For the first time in over a week, she was glad to be awake and breathing again.
She stepped down gingerly and studied the
wagon that was providing her comfort and
convalescence. The covered wagon was perched on high wooden wheels, which had been painted many times. Chipped layers revealed many coats of white, yellow and even red. It had three windows on both sides, and a single door opening onto a wide board that acted as a step and a porch.
The sides were a natural oak and had a heavy layer of varnish.
She had seen these wagons, sometimes fifteen or twenty of them, in a caravan along the roads near her town. The children never waved to her, they only stared as they bounced and rocked in the back of the wagons moving on to another town or vacant lot. She looked around and noticed several more eiderdowns with faded flower motifs 106
Morgan Rush
airing out in the bright sunlight.
Veronique took a deep breath and walked
toward the biggest campfire with the most people around it. She needed to talk to someone, anyone, and she was feeling lost and alone and more than a little ashamed, but not quite as sad now.
She passed several adult squatters who paid her no attention. Soon several children surrounded her, clutching at her hands and the hem of her dress, pulling her toward the fire and rubbing their hands on her, begging for her touch. She found herself smiling and rubbing their greasy hair and naked backs as she walked slowly toward the group.
Every one of the women smiled at her as a
welcome and continued talking and laughing as they shifted and made room for her to sit.
Veronique noticed some were speaking. She
summoned her courage and addressed them in
Spanish. They laughed and wished her good
morning in French. She began talking in French, but they all quickly changed to English. One of them asked her if she also spoke German.
One of the women grabbed a huge, blue
enameled coffeepot, raked it through the fire and warmed up the coffee. Another placed an
enormous black cauldron in front of Veronique and several slabs of bread. At the bottom of the cauldron were some fried green and red peppers, onions, tomatoes and meat. As Veronique ate her 107
The Gypsy King
first meal with her kumpania , she felt her strength trickling back.
Before long, she was chatting and telling the women about her last terrifying months, the crazy dreams she was having and the trouble from a man who was still haunting her. She didn’t
mention Ahndray, but she spent the rest of the day sitting with the women by the fire. It seemed they understood her like old friends. All traces of thoughts about her home and her problems
vanished for the first time in many, many moons.
108
Morgan Rush
Chapter Ten
t was only a matter of sunrises until Veronique Irealized she had lost her innate connection with time, along with all its restrictions and regularity.
None of the gypsies cared about the
Packs of small barefooted children ran all
around the campsite, yelling and chasing each other playfully. Some of them were dressed in rags, but many of them were naked. Veronique smiled as she watched them frolicking like young animals.
105
The Gypsy King
At the foot of small hills, horses grazed while tethered with long strips of leather and there were many stiff-haired dogs wandering about, but none looked menacing. The smell of smoke permeated the air and she counted at least a dozen fires now that were throwing up thick blue ribbons of smoke into the morning air. Loud, clear voices from the gypsies rang all around the camp. Veronique felt warm gratitude towards these people of whom she had heard many things, but never had the opportunity to meet. For the first time in over a week, she was glad to be awake and breathing again.
She stepped down gingerly and studied the
wagon that was providing her comfort and
convalescence. The covered wagon was perched on high wooden wheels, which had been painted many times. Chipped layers revealed many coats of white, yellow and even red. It had three windows on both sides, and a single door opening onto a wide board that acted as a step and a porch.
The sides were a natural oak and had a heavy layer of varnish.
She had seen these wagons, sometimes fifteen or twenty of them, in a caravan along the roads near her town. The children never waved to her, they only stared as they bounced and rocked in the back of the wagons moving on to another town or vacant lot. She looked around and noticed several more eiderdowns with faded flower motifs 106
Morgan Rush
airing out in the bright sunlight.
Veronique took a deep breath and walked
toward the biggest campfire with the most people around it. She needed to talk to someone, anyone, and she was feeling lost and alone and more than a little ashamed, but not quite as sad now.
She passed several adult squatters who paid her no attention. Soon several children surrounded her, clutching at her hands and the hem of her dress, pulling her toward the fire and rubbing their hands on her, begging for her touch. She found herself smiling and rubbing their greasy hair and naked backs as she walked slowly toward the group.
Every one of the women smiled at her as a
welcome and continued talking and laughing as they shifted and made room for her to sit.
Veronique noticed some were speaking. She
summoned her courage and addressed them in
Spanish. They laughed and wished her good
morning in French. She began talking in French, but they all quickly changed to English. One of them asked her if she also spoke German.
One of the women grabbed a huge, blue
enameled coffeepot, raked it through the fire and warmed up the coffee. Another placed an
enormous black cauldron in front of Veronique and several slabs of bread. At the bottom of the cauldron were some fried green and red peppers, onions, tomatoes and meat. As Veronique ate her 107
The Gypsy King
first meal with her kumpania , she felt her strength trickling back.
Before long, she was chatting and telling the women about her last terrifying months, the crazy dreams she was having and the trouble from a man who was still haunting her. She didn’t
mention Ahndray, but she spent the rest of the day sitting with the women by the fire. It seemed they understood her like old friends. All traces of thoughts about her home and her problems
vanished for the first time in many, many moons.
108
Morgan Rush
Chapter Ten
t was only a matter of sunrises until Veronique Irealized she had lost her innate connection with time, along with all its restrictions and regularity.
None of the gypsies cared about the
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