The Gypsy's Curse Read online

  She just rolled her eyes and served Adam his drink.

  The three of them continued chatting for a few minutes, with Mary taking necessary breaks to wait on tables and Adam stepping in to help as he was needed.

  After a while Mary said to Valentine, “I’m taking a break to eat with my son. You can take care of these tables till I’m done.”

  Valentine grumbled, then nodded. “Alright, fine.”

  The old man had been like a father to Mary since she was a young girl, when her father died and he and his wife, Margaret, were made her guardians. They never had children of their own, so Mary was special to them. That being the case, Mary wasn’t just an employee in the tavern; she was family, and so was Adam. If Mary wanted to take a break, that was about the only way Valentine would get up from his usual perch at the bar to wait on tables.

  Mary went into the back to get something for her and Adam to eat. Aunt Franny, the slave woman who had been the main cook in the tavern since long before Adam was born, had made a summer vegetable soup seasoned with ham—one of Adam’s favorite dishes—along with fried corn bread and sliced cucumbers in vinegar. She also made peach cobbler, which Adam said he would have later with some fresh cream.

  Just as Adam and Mary were starting to eat, Martin Smith swaggered into the tavern, then came up and leaned against the bar right near Mary.

  “How you doin, darlin?” he said to her.

  The tall, blue-eyed, blond-haired twenty-eight-year-old was arguably the most handsome eligible bachelor in the whole of Carteret County, but he was also an unapologetic lothario. It relieved Adam that Mary was well aware of this, so she knew better than to succumb to his friend’s charms. Still, he could tell she enjoyed Martin’s flirting—just a little bit.

  “I’m hot,” she answered him, “and I’ve been working myself ragged all day. You looking for a job waiting tables?”

  Martin chuckled, then looked over at Adam. “No, ma’am, I don’t reckon I am, but if you need any help you just let me know.” He winked at her.

  “I’ll keep that in mind,” she said. “Right now Valentine’s taking care of the folks.” She motioned over to the far side of the tavern, where Valentine was serving a fresh round of drinks to some thirsty patrons.

  “Good. I’ll mention this while he’s away,” said Martin. He leaned in close to ask Mary and Adam a question. “Y’all been out to that gypsy camp yet?”

  Adam gave him a surprised look. “Do what? What gypsy camp?”

  Mary raised her eyebrows and smiled. “Oh, that’s right! I didn’t see you yesterday, so I didn’t get to tell you. We’ve got a family of gypsies that has set up camp over on the north side of Town Creek.”

  “Gypsies? In Beaufort? What for?”

  “They’re just passing through. They travel, you know?” said Martin. “That’s what they do. I hear they’re selling all sorts of medicines and potions, and they’ve got music and dancing, and some sort of acrobatic show—”

  “And oh, there’s a fortune-teller!” Mary interrupted. “That’s what I meant to tell you. I went out there yesterday—it was my day off. Well, it was my day off before Jackson got fired, anyway.”

  Adam was stunned. “You went out there? You’re joking!”

  Just then Valentine came back over and took his position behind the bar. “I wish she was jokin, boy. I told her it was a bunch of foolishness, but if she wants to throw good money away, I reckon that’s her choice.”

  “So you had your fortune told?” Martin asked, intrigued. “What did she say?”

  Mary smiled, seemingly happy to talk about her experience. “Well, I can’t remember every little detail, but what she told me was very good. She said she could see a bright, shining future for me, and that I would soon come upon a grand opportunity to come into money.”

  Valentine looked at Adam and Martin and rolled his eyes. “See? Pure foolishness.”

  Adam chuckled. “Yeah, sure. I reckon she was trying to tell you that Jackson would be fired so you’d get a chance to pick up his hours and make more money!”

  Mary wrinkled her brow and smacked Adam across his upper arm. “Oh, you hush!”

  Martin grinned but was clearly trying to stifle laughter.

  “Y’all go on and laugh,” she said, aggravated. “My fortune may or may not come true, but at least I didn’t lose anything by having it told. She did it as a courtesy.”

  “Oh really? And why would she do that?” said Adam with great skepticism.

  “Prob’ly just so your mama’d do all this free advertising for ’em,” said Valentine.

  Mary ignored him. “When I was there at the camp looking at the different medicines and potions they were selling, the gypsy woman’s daughter came up to me and said her mother sensed great things for me and wanted to tell me my fortune.”

  “Is that so?” said Adam. “So she just pulled you over and started telling you all about your future? And what about these potions? What kinds of things are they supposed to do?”

  “Why do you want to know that?” said Martin jokingly. “Because you want to buy a love potion to try and charm my cousin when she gets back?”

  Adam rolled his eyes at Martin. “I couldn’t care less about buying any potions. I just wanted to make sure she didn’t fall for any of that and lose a pile of money.”

  Mary wrinkled her brow. “You ought not be so judgmental, Adam. You haven’t even been out there. You’ve not met these people and already you’re saying they’re deceitful.”

  She shook her head in frustration. “They did have some bottles of liquid that they probably called ‘potions’ that they claimed to do different things, but I think they were really just novelties. But they also had some elixirs there—tinctures, that sort of thing.”

  “Well, don’t let Adam pick on you too much, Miss Mary,” said Martin. “I was planning to go out there this evening and figured on takin your son here with me. We’ll win him over to their gypsy charms.”

  “What makes you think I want to go see a bunch of gypsies?” asked Adam.

  “You got anything better to do?” Martin asked. “Besides, I’ve never had the pleasure of knowing any gypsies.”

  “And they’re all better off for it I’d say,” Adam replied.

  “Oh, come on now,” Martin said. “They have a whole family of ’em out there. It’ll be fun. Anyway, you might like to get one of those fortune things.”

  “One of those ‘fortune things’? Is that the proper term for it?” Adam joked.

  Martin smiled. “It’s good enough.”

  “You do realize it’s just entertainment, right? It’s not like she can really see the future.”

  “Maybe she can. Maybe she can’t. Still, I think it sounds like it’s worth tryin out.”

  Adam thought about it for a moment. “Yeah, I reckon it all sounds entertaining enough. At least it’ll be something different to do. Seems like Saturday nights are always the same around here.”

  “Oh, it’s a very different sort of thing to do,” said Mary. “I assure you you’ve not seen anything like it.”

  “I don’t know,” said Martin. “Remember, Miss Mary, we’ve been to the Caribbean. We’ve seen all sorts of things.”

  “I don’t doubt it,” she said, “but I doubt you’ve seen anything quite like this.”

  “What time did you want to go?” said Adam.

  “Hmm… How about if we head over there just before dusk? That’s apparently when they start getting a crowd over there.”

  “Sounds fine to me,” Adam agreed.

  He decided to go back to the warehouse and rest until it was time for them to go.

  Chapter Three

  WHEN ADAM MADE IT BACK to the warehouse, his clothes were sticking to his body horribly with sweat. It was unusual for it to be this hot in late September, but it did happen on occasion. He still had hours before Martin would be ready to go to the gypsy camp, so he figured it would be a good tim
e to take a swim to cool down.

  After soaking in Taylor Creek for about an hour, he climbed out up onto the dock and used his shirt to dry off before heading upstairs to the living quarters.

  “Good afternoon, son,” said Emmanuel from his favorite chair, putting down the book he had been reading. “I’m surprised to see you here. I thought for sure you would be off somewhere enjoying your freedom to its fullest this afternoon. I brought my own things in off the line by the way, so there’ll be a few less items for you to carry up later.”

  “Were they already dry?” asked Adam.

  “In this heat?” Emmanuel looked surprised. “Of course they were.”

  “It’s so humid, though,” Adam countered as he walked back towards his bedroom to change into dry clothes.

  “It is humid,” Emmanuel called to him, “but I think the heat of the sun was enough to do the job anyway.”

  Within a few seconds Adam came back into the sitting room and made himself comfortable in one of the chairs at the dining table. He used the shirt he’d had earlier to wring out his dark, wavy hair. He knew Emmanuel didn’t like for him, or anyone, to sit on the upholstered furniture with a wet head.

  “So what plans do you have for the rest of the day?” Emmanuel asked.

  Adam finished shaking his hair until it was mostly dry, then draped the shirt across a chair before coming over to rest on one of the cut-velvet settees in the main sitting area.

  “Well,” he answered, “Martin told me there’s a gypsy camp set up just north of town. We were thinking of heading over there around dusk to see what they’re up to.”

  “Gypsies?” Emmanuel frowned. “Good heavens, I’ll tell you what they’re up to. They’re up to no good. I’d keep far from there if I were you.”

  “I reckon that means you don’t like ’em much, then,” Adam said. He was amused by his grandfather’s response.

  Emmanuel made a sour expression at him and shook his head. “Definitely not. I was taken in by some of their schemes when I was a foolish young man, but these days I’ve enough sense to steer clear, and I recommend you do the same if you know what’s good for you!”

  “Whoa there! I’m not interested in their schemes, or whatever it is you’re talking about, and I sure don’t plan on being taken in by them. I just wanted to see what they’re like. It’s something to do. Anyway, sounds like they’ve got some different entertainers—musicians, acrobats, all sorts of things. Oh, and Martin said he wants to see some fortune-teller they’ve got over there.”

  He rolled his eyes to show his grandfather that at least he wasn’t interested in seeing the fortune-teller.

  “Of course Martin wants to see the fortune-teller. That foolish boy, I’d expect no less of him, but you ought to know better than to consort with that kind of person. You know what the Bible says about divination for goodness’ sake!”

  Adam was taken aback by his grandfather’s reaction. He was used to Emmanuel warning him about things, but it seemed this business with the gypsies had really struck a nerve with him.

  “I haven’t read that part recently,” he said. “Remind me.”

  “The Lord calls the fortune-teller’s craft an abomination.”

  “I don’t remember. What does it say exactly?”

  Adam thought he might be able to find a loophole in the passage. He should have known better, though. While he had grown up in a family that considered themselves Christians, he had been taught little of what the Bible actually said about anything—except the really big, common prohibitions, like not stealing or murdering or fornicating. Emmanuel, on the other hand, had lived a reckless life in his youth but was converted before he turned thirty and had committed himself to reading and studying the Scriptures and great theologians at every opportunity.

  Emmanuel seemed pleased to have this opportunity to open his Bible and thumb through it before reading the passage to Adam.

  “Listen. It says right here in the eighteenth chapter of Deutoronomy, verses nine through eleven, ‘When thou art come into the land which the Lord thy God giveth thee, thou shalt not learn to do after the abominations of those nations.’”

  His grandfather raised his finger to emphasize the verse he was about to read.

  Oh boy, thought Adam, here we go.

  “Listen here: ‘There shall not be found among you anyone that maketh his son or his daughter to pass through the fire, or that useth divination, or an observer of times, or an enchanter, or a witch, or a charmer, or a consulter with familiar spirits, or a wizard, or a necromancer.’”

  Adam thought about it for a moment and looked for an exit. “But that’s talking about Israel, right? I mean, ‘coming into the land’? Isn’t that about that whole thing with Moses and the Ten Commandments and all that?”

  “Yes, he’s talking about Israel, but this is applicable to the church as well.”

  “Why?” Adam asked, exasperated. “I mean, we don’t go by all the same laws that are in the Old Testament, and there were some strange, sad laws in the Old Testament. Can you imagine not ever being able to eat pork?”

  Emmanuel wrinkled up his face in frustration at his grandson. “I’m being very serious with you, Adam. I’ve told you before that while some of the ceremonial laws were abolished, the moral and ethical laws are for all time. They will never go away. That means God is just as displeased with divination and enchantments today as he was then.”

  “Alright, fine,” said Adam. “But you know I don’t even believe in fortune-telling. Those gypsies are just trying to make some money, and there are plenty of gullible—or stupid—people around willing to pay it to hear something that gives them something to look forward to about their future. Something to hope for.”

  “Then their hopes are pinned on the wrong things,” said Emmanuel.

  The conversation was exasperating to Adam. “Fine. You visited gypsies when you were a young man, and it sounds to me like all they did for you was to help you part with your money. That’s unfortunate for you, but I’d like to think I know better,” Adam insisted. “I’m honestly just bored and I want to do something different tonight. That’s all. Enjoy a little diversion, see a little entertainment.”

  “There are better means of entertainment,” Emmanuel said. “After all, what fellowship hath light with darkness?”

  Adam was getting exhausted hearing his grandfather hit him over the head with Scriptures.

  “Why are you doing that so much lately?” Adam asked.

  “Why am I doing what?”

  “Preaching at me—all the time!” said Adam. “We’re on the same side of things, you know. I’m not some heathen—even if I don’t know as much about the Bible as you. It just seems like you’re always trying to hover over me these days, warning me off of one kind of sin or another. It’s not like if I go with Martin to the gypsy camp tonight that God will strike me right down where I stand.”

  Emmanuel took a deep breath, then closed his Bible and held it in his lap. “Son, you are nineteen and a half years old. In about a year and a half you’ll be free of your apprenticeship—or if I don’t live that long, even sooner than that. And if you want, at that point you’ll be able to go your own way. Since the first seventeen years of your life you were so dreadfully malnourished in terms of any spiritual instruction, I have felt as if I have a lot of catching up to do—especially as you insist on spending so much time with Martin Smith. Now you can take heed of what I say to you about this matter, or any other matter, or not—that’s entirely your choice—but at least I will know I have done what I can to train you up in the way that you should go.”

  Adam knew his grandfather meant well, but he was just so old-fashioned.

  “I understand why you’re concerned, but you don’t have anything to worry about—not with me, anyway. If I even go out there at all, I’ll just be going for the show. I mean, this is Beaufort. It’s not like there’s anything else going on here right now.”

 
Chapter Four

  RATHER THAN WAITING FOR MARTIN to come by the warehouse to pick him up, Adam decided it would probably be best if he just went to his house so they could leave from there. There was no need to cause his grandfather to worry by flaunting where he was going or what he was doing.

  By seven thirty, Adam and Martin were on the north side of Town Creek, where the camp was set up on the waterfront. He could see the backs of some folks from town who were standing around watching something, but Adam couldn’t make out what it was.

  They parked the horse cart and walked towards the activity. At first glance the camp didn’t look like much—just some crudely constructed canvas tents here and there. Just to the right of two of the tents were two small wagons with large pieces of canvas stretched over them. There were three horses—one almost entirely black, the other two dapple gray—tied to makeshift hitching posts nearby.

  Adam noticed three men apparently getting ready to begin an acrobatic show. One of them looked to be in his forties, the other two close to Adam’s own age or maybe a little older. They all had jet-black hair with the exception of the older man, as he did have a couple of wide streaks of silver that could be seen running from his forehead down through his ponytail. They all wore dark, baggy trousers, white or cream-colored shirts, and black vests, and they were all barefoot.

  Once Adam and Martin walked past the tents, they saw a cleared circle that had several tall poles stuck into the ground around it, with torches at the top of each one. A large group of people were standing around its perimeter, clapping their hands as they listened to three other men play music while a young girl of about twelve or thirteen years of age in a brightly colored dress danced for the crowd. There was a blanket spread out on the ground near where she danced, where folks had apparently been tossing small coins. The style of music reminded Adam of what he’d heard at Taberna el Trobador in Havana, but it wasn’t quite the same. He felt a knot in his stomach; his mind rushed back to all that had happened there and that mysterious letter again. Was it possible that these people could have anything to do with Havana? He quickly decided no, it would be ridiculous to think that.