Gypsy: Chapter 3

I opened my eyes, the scents of the carnival gone and the fresh air full of pine and musk replaced them. I tried to grasp around, get my placing when I felt the pine needles and grasses dragging against my back. I was being pulled by the gypsy girl deep into the forest, the faded voices of the rat and his followers heading into the distance. My body felt heavy like a weight was placed on my chest and my muscles had forgotten to work. A sickening groan broke the silence of the forest and I realized it had come from deep inside my throat drawing the Rose’s gaze back at me, then forward again as she continued to drag my limped body over the roots and rocks around us.

“That potion was meant for my master. But no, you had to come along and breathe it all in. Don’t worry, the symptoms should ware off soon. You’ve been unconscious for over an hour.” She looked back at me, her mouth curled into a scorn. “Why did you follow me?

Her accent was thick in my ears, and my mind was still reeling from the unconscious buzzing. She looked back at me then forward again as she continued to drag me. She struggled with my weight taking short strides and then stopping for a bit, looking around like she was lost. I could see her quickened breath in the chilled air as the tingling started to return into my toes. I threw up my arms trying to grasp a root, a vine, anything to keep her from pulling me further.

“I told you never to return to me.” She continued, paying no regard to my struggle.

“What are you talking about? I’ve never met you before!” my voice was raspy and weak, my throat tight from the spices that had surrounded me earlier.

“Shut up! Please. We have to be quiet now…” her voice turned into a harsh whisper.

“I’m sorry if I upset you, which I obviously have… but I just wanted to help you. I feel like I know you Rose, please just let me go.” I could feel the tingling in my toes moving up my legs as the numbness and paralysis began to wear off. She just dropped my feet abruptly with an angry cry from deep within her.

“How do you know me?” My arms felt as weak as the voice escaping my lips, I struggled to sit up, my stomach like a pudding. She just put her hands on the colorful scarf slung around her waist; her eyes darted around frantically. She was lost, and out of breath. I managed to stand with my legs quaking beneath me, the sting of pine needles aching at my arms and neck.

“I remember you and your mother in my village. We played in the river Daniel, I remember your face.”

I stared at her, my mind reeling from confusion and the soggy musk that cleared my scent from nutmeg.

“You really don’t remember me do you?” Her eyes grew sad but quickly hardened again.

“I used to believe that I was exquisite at remembering faces, especially one as beautiful as yours… I feel strongly as if I know you, but I’ve searched my mind and have found nothing…”

We looked at each other for a while, the cool air nipping at the fall grasses. The night grew darker as the crickets and the beetle bugs began to sing in the weeping pines of the forest.

“As children Daniel, we played as children by the river, remember?”

I searched my mind again for any sign of a river or of this woman’s beautiful face. The beetle bugs sang louder, their song echoed from my feet, entrancing me, distracting my thoughts. I kicked at the ground in frustration. Why can’t I remember…?