Chapter Ten-May 27(still)
We made the long walk to the camp in silence, save for a few moments when Tintin stopped to speak quietly with the Captain. Mike, unexpectedly, waited patiently for the exchange before leading us on. I did not fetch my old clothes. Instead, I began to worry at the sleeve of my new dress, anxious thoughts running in circles in my mind. Suddenly, I felt a warmth clasp over my right hand; I looked over at Tintin's smile. It will be all right, his expression seemed to convey. I nodded mutely, and we walked on.
Soon we were back at the camp, which was ominously quiet. I swallowed hard as I saw them lined up around the fire; Peter and a number of other older men in our tambor stood silently. These were men that I had known my entire life, men that had laughed with my father and mother and wept with Ana and myself when they passed from this world, and now they watched me approach, silent and stern.
I felt cold, miserable, and wholly unprepared for what was forthcoming.
Out of the corner of my eye, I could see my sister and Lucia, along with many other of the women and children watching from within the wagon windows. I was suddenly very aware that I was not wearing my own clothes. You've made your choices, I thought as I finally stood before the elders. Now you must face the consequences. I raised my chin, determined not to be cowed by their stern gazes, and looked at Peter, who seemed smaller somehow, a bit less imposing than I think he should've appeared at a time like this.
As he had watched me approach, Peter's expression revealed nothing of his inner thoughts. The firelight flickered on the faces of the council, shadowing their features eerily, and once more I was struck with the surrealism of the whole evening's events. On a normal night, this was the time when we would be settling the young ones to bed and finishing up the last of the day's chores; at that moment, I would've much rather scrubbed all of the dishes in the camp for the rest of my life than face my family in this manner.
"Miranda," Peter's voice rang out suddenly, causing me to start. "You have been marhime since the age of fourteen, and have therefore been granted liberties that no other Romany woman in this camp, or any other that I am aware of, shares. You have the freedom to travel as you like, with Felix; you are not expected to constantly supervise the children or prepare the meals, or anything of that nature. Partly, this is due to your status, but you are also our beloved daughter, a child of the Rom, and for that you will always be precious to us."
My spirits rose slightly. Perhaps it won't be so bad, after all....
"However," Peter continued, and I winced. "Your actions of late suggest to me that you are not satisfied with the current arrangement, and I think that we are all at a loss as to what should be done."
"In my day, any woman that defied the laws of the Rom was cast out of the family, and no one looked back," Silas, the oldest man in our group, said in a low voice. I felt my chest tighten, and cast a quick look to Tintin, but his face was hidden in the shadows.
Peter nodded. "Yes, grandfather, but I like to think that we are different now. Does that way not seem harsh to you?"
"She's broken every law," Mike growled. "She's proven herself to be unmanageable." He lifted his chin. "Let me have her, father. When she is my wife, there will be no more of this nonsense."
At his words, the fear in my belly turned to anger. "If I'm so 'unmanageable,' Mike, what do you intend to do with me? Lock me away in a caravan for the rest of my life? Or stone me to death if I defy you?"
Mike laughed, as though at one of Miarka's childish jokes. "Even the wildest horse can be tamed."
"Please, leave her be." Tintin's voice was calm and quiet, yet carried more weight than any of us. "None of this is her fault; I'm the one that initiated everything....it's my fault that we are all here now. Please, if you're going to blame someone, blame me."
"Tintin....." I tried to interject, but Peter raised his hand, the call for silence.
"A noble gesture, young gadjo, but unnecessary. This has nothing to do with you; Miranda's actions have long been a source of contention to us, and her involvement with you is merely the breaking point. If anyone is to blame, it is the foolish, doddering man who allowed her to carry on in such a fashion." Peter sighed, and in that moment, he looked very old to me. "I do not expect you to understand," he continued. "We are not the most forthcoming people when it comes to our customs. But the fact remains that we simply cannot allow one of our women to marry a gadjo." He looked at me again, and my heart began to race even as my blood felt like it was turning to ice, and I knew what he was going to say before he said it. "Miranda, you must make a choice: the gadjo, or your family. I'm sorry, but it can't be any other way."
***
The rest of that night was a blur. Peter and the others gave me the night to make my decision, and soon Tintin and me were sitting by the dying embers of the fire. Mike prowled around for a few minutes, before Peter called him away, leaving us alone at last. I sat hugging my arms around my waist, staring at without seeing the glowing fragments of the fire, while Tintin sat beside me, not touching me, his hands folded in front of his mouth; for a long while, we sat in silence.
Finally I could not take it any more. "I don't know what to do," I whispered. My face felt hot from the fire, and my eyes were pricking. "I can't make this choice."
"You shouldn't have to," Tintin replied, his voice barely audible. He turned to me, and seeing his expression caused a fresh wave of grief to flood my senses. "Miranda, I'm so sorry. I never meant to cause you all this trouble. I just....I didn't think that the one person who I could spend the rest of my life with would be the one person totally forbidden to me." He reached out and wiped my cheeks; I was unaware that I had been crying. "Did I mention how sorry I was?"
"I'm sorry too," I said. "I wish that I wasn't such a foolish, selfish girl....none of us would be this heartsick otherwise."
Tintin took my hands, and kissed my fingertips gently. "Miranda, you are many, many things, but foolish and selfish are not among them." He looked stricken. "I think that you should go with your family." I stared at him, but he continued. "It's your choice, I know, but I don't want you to regret anything. Believe me, I know what it's like to not have a family.....and it's not something that I would wish on my worst enemy, let alone someone that I love."
"But....." Of course, normal speech failed me at this point, and I simply looked at him, mutely.
He kissed me once, softly and carefully, and stood up. "I won't lie; I would be delighted if you'd stay with me, but not at the cost of you loosing your family and everyone that you hold dear."
He made to walk away, and I grabbed his hand, pulled him to me, and kissed him again fiercely. "I love you too, Tintin."