Chapter 12
The hotel lobby was filled with people standing near the front windows and watching the proceedings in the street. Several of the hotel guests had walked out the front doors and were standing on the large porch looking at the strange wagon in the middle of the main street running through Laramie. Jess decided to join the other guests on the porch. As he walked outside, he saw a man with a badge approach the men who were yelling at the wagon's driver.
"Now, if I've told ya once, Billy Nolan, I've told ya a hundred times, everybody has a right to come into town unless they've broken the law or trying to." The Sheriff stood up a little straighter and added, "If you and your brother don't git out of the street and let this man pass rite now, I'm gonna arrest ya both and you'll spend today and tonight in jail."
"Fer what, Cory?! Keeping vermin like this outta town?" the man Sheriff Cory had called Billy Nolan yelled back.
"For unlawfully prohibiting a law-abiding person from coming into town to buy supplies, that's what. Now git outta his way. This is yer last warning!" Cory stood his ground.
At that Billy Nolan pulled on his brother's sleeve, "Let's git outta here, Dave. The stench of this wagon ain't worth smelling any longer." With that he spit toward the wagon's front wheel and walked to the other side of the street toward the saloon.
Cory motioned to the driver of the wagon, "Ya kin go ahead and git your supplies now. I'll make sure that ya don't have any more interference."
The driver tipped his hat at Cory and drove his wagon toward the General Store.
Standing on the porch of the hotel, Jess heard a lot of comments from the people watching the wagon.
"Don't blame those Nolan boys at tall for not wanting those Gypsies anywhere near here!" One man on the porch said.
"Yeah," answered another standing near the street, "They've been rite outside a' town fer weeks now, and they don't seem ta want ta move on."
A older man coming up the hotel steps joined the conversation, "Why should they leave when so many of our citizens keep going out ta the camp and betting on whatever goes on out there. If it ain't gambling, they're goin' to see that fortune tellin' woman."
A younger man added, "Well, that daughter of his shor' is a dark-eyed beauty. I didn't mind paying for her ta tell my fortune. I got to look at her for some time when she was holding my hand and telling me ma past and future."
"Hmph!" was all one of the older men said as he walked on down the street.
As the small group of people started to go on about their business, Jess went up to the young man who had mentioned the fortune teller, "So how much did ya hav' ta pay to git your fortune told?"
"Not much at 'tal. But if yer aiming ta do that, I'd git out there 'fore dark. It gits a little rowdy out there with the gambling after dark. The day I went it was before suppertime. She shor' is a beauty. I went more to look at her than I did to find out my fortune." He smiled knowingly at Jess as went on down the street.
Watching him walk away, Jess couldn't help but notice the church at the end of the street that was clearly visible past the young man who had just spoken to him. "Church or Fortune Teller?" Jess thought, "Could either of them help me git things back the way they're 'posed to be? He couldn't help but think of his Ma. Her answer would have been the Church and talking with the pastor or jest reading the Good Book or praying. Jess couldn't even imagine trying to tell a man of God what had happened to him. Nah, he thought, any normal preacher would git the Sheriff ta lock up the loco man if he heard what Jess had ta say. And this Sheriff Cory didn't look like he tolerated very much in this town. Course, McCord was a good Sheriff too, but this Cory appeared to be a no-nonsense Sheriff. Jess didn't want ta have a run-in with him. He'd best keep his mouth shut in town. He looked back at the Gypsy's wagon. It definitely looked strange. One of the few men who were still standing on the porch, turned to Jess, "I'd listen ta that young man if I was you, Son. If ya want ta see the beauty, go during tha day. Otherwise ya stand ta lose a lot of money."
"So where is this Gypsy camp?" Jess asked him.
"Just a mile south of town, Son. Cain't miss 'em if ya stay on the main road goin' South." The man grinned at him, "Go on and take a look at her like all the young ones want ta do, git yer fortune told, and then git outta there 'fore ya lose yer shirt gamblin'."
Jess grinned at the man, "Much obliged. I'll remember what ya said."
Jess immediately went to the livery to retrieve Traveler. He found the camp south of town without any problem. As he approached, he saw an older woman cooking over a fire, but as he continued to scan the camp he also saw a young, beautiful woman carrying a bucket up from the stream that wasn't far away from the camp.
The older woman spoke first, "Gambling doesn't start until dark. You'll have to come back then." Jess could make out what she was saying, but she definitely had an accent that he had never heard before.
"Howdy, Ma'am. I'm not here for the gamblin'." He got off of Traveler, and tied his horse to a rope that obviously had been strung between two trees for that purpose.
"Well, what's you here for then?" The woman continued stirring the pot at the fire.
"I heard in town that someone here could tell your fortune or past or somethin' like that."
The woman straighten up then. "Let my daughter set the water down first. She's the one that can tell your fortune."
Jess saw that the younger woman was not quite up to the camp. He immediately went to her and reached for the heavy bucket, "Ma'am, let me help you with that."
The young woman acted surprised at his actions, but she allowed him to carry the bucket for her. When he had set the bucket down in the proper place, the younger woman said, "I'm Madam Ceija." She spoke much clearer than her mother. Jess heard her name as "Say-ja," but he had no idea how it was spelled. He couldn't help but see how beautiful she was with dark, almost black, hair and dark captivating eyes. She pointed to a table with a chair on each side under a nearby tree. "If you will come over here, I will tell your fortune."
Jess followed her over to the table. He was completely mesmerized by her beauty. She pointed to the chair that he was to sit in and he obeyed.
"Are you from Laramie?"
"Yes, Ma'am."
"And did they tell you how much I charge to tell your fortune?"
"No, Ma'am. But I'm interested in the past also."
"Alright, I can do that also. You need to pay me before we start. That will be three dollars."
Jess was surprised that the price was so high, but he willingly paid her the three dollars.
"Alright," she said, "We'll start with reading your palm, and then I'll checked the cards. Give me your right hand."
She smiled at him as he removed his black glove off of his right hand. Taking his hand, she said, "I see that you are an honest man, hard-working." She stopped and drew her breath in suddenly. "But you are a very troubled man right now." She ran her finger down the lines in his palm, and then reversed the direction of her finger. She looked up into Jess's eyes. "You are very troubled because you do not belong here. You have been on a very long journey." She stopped and drew her breath in again. Then she looked into Jess's eyes and was silent for what seemed like two or three minutes. She finally asked, "How old are you?"
Jess smiled at her, "I thought you were supposed to be able ta tell me that."
She laughed deeply in her throat, "You are also very smart. I'll tell you what I see. I see a man who is no more than twenty-four or twenty-five years old, and yet you fought in a war that ended over twenty years ago. That is what I see, and I have never seen anything like this before." Continuing to hold his hand, she stood up and called to her mother in a language that Jess didn't understand.
The older woman immediately laid her spoon down on a plate, and almost ran over to her daughter. The mother spoke in the different language for what seemed to Jess to be a few minutes. Then Madam Ceija turned back to Jess, "My mother says that her mother saw this same thing back in the old country once when my mother was just a young girl." Madam Ceija looked closely into Jess's eyes, "You left on a journey that was supposed to take you home, and you ended up here in another time, didn't you?"
"Yes, as far as I can figure. That is what happened. I need to git back home at the right time. I've got ta fix what is wrong. I cain't live with things the way they are." Jess felt stupid and silly telling her this, and at the same time he was desperate for help to get back to 1870.
Madam Ceija placed her other hand on top of Jess's, but she turned toward her mother and continued speaking in the foreign language. Her mother pulled up another chair and reached for Jess's hand, taking his hand away from her daughter's. She studied Jess's palm for a few minutes, and then she spoke again to her daughter.
Madam Ceija continued to look into Jess's eyes, "We are going to try to help you get back to where you belong, but you have to be completely honest with us and answer all of our questions with the compete truth."
Jess nodded. How could they possibly tell this from just looking at his hand? It made no sense to him, but neither did this entire situation. He was willing to trust these strange women if they could help him get home.
The older woman spoke again in her native language, and the daughter asked the question, "Are you supposed to be in 1869 or 1870 or some other year?"
"1870."
Ceija asked the next question without help from her mother, "Why did you start out on your trip?"
Jess hesitated to mention the money, but he knew he had to be honest if he wanted to get home. "I was sent on a mission by my boss to get something that belonged to him and bring it back to Laramie. It was 1870 when I left. I got what was owed to him, and I started riding back to Laramie. When I got to Rawlins, the newspaper said it was April 1889. I don't know how that happened."
Again the women carried on a conversation in their own language. When Ceija turned back to Jess, she said, "Did you swim in a river or lake on your way to this Rawlins?"
"No. I just rode along on the road, but there was this really thick and strange fog along the road. It was different than what I was used to. My horse is usually not skittish about fog or rain or anything. But he didn't want to go through the fog. I urged him on since I wanted to git home."
The older woman then spoke to Jess, "Did your horse cry out when you were in the fog?"
"Yes, he whinnied a lot. He doesn't normally do that."
The older woman smiled at Jess and put his hand back in her daughter's. She looked toward her cooking again, but she added, "You do what my daughter tells you to do. It worked for the man my mother helped. You will get back home if you do what she says." She patted Jess's shoulder and went back to her cooking.