***
Kali
The day had been long and difficult. Some of the women had argued with her about her foretelling, how her visions weren’t possible because they didn’t reveal what the women themselves wanted. She couldn’t help what she saw, and she couldn’t help them if they kept living for “what ifs.”
She longed to make the journey back to the camp, but not because she wanted to be with her people. What she wanted was that one glimpse, that one glance back at the beautiful young man who followed her. The embarrassing truth was she needed that glimpse of him; she thrived on it.
She sensed him behind her, and imagined the dust lifting from his every step. He was protecting her, yet he never spoke to her. He probably had little idea of how she felt whenever she saw him.
Maybe he saw her as a child. The young women of the village curled their hair with rags and stained their cheeks and lips to make their images more appealing. The only decoration Kali had was her brightly coloured skirts which she couldn’t allow a man to touch. She was strong, rather than curvaceous, and she knew she wasn’t the prettiest of her sisters. Among her people, social stature came with age and motherhood, but surely she deserved more than to be thought of as a child.
Perhaps he saw a witch, someone to fear, when he gazed at her. His actions could be an attempt to stave off her anger instead of the generous protection she had assumed.
Worse, he might see her as less than human. She had been judged by many, but she couldn’t bear for such harsh judgement to come from him.
Agitated, and with her ego more than a little bruised, she realised one glimpse wasn’t enough for her anymore. She shouldn’t allow a man to follow her home every single evening when she didn’t even know his name. She stopped short and turned around, determined to speak to him. Dog growled, but she placed a hand on the animal’s neck to quiet him.
“Why?” she demanded.
The man came closer, giving a little shrug as he pushed the sleeves of his shirt higher on his arms.
“You insulted my wife, and she spread rumours about you. As it was my wife who made this walk dangerous for you, I thought it was my responsibility to make sure no harm comes to you this way.”
“She insulted me and you!” Kali blurted.
He smiled, and her knees weakened. “I’m used to it. It means little to me.”
“Well, it means a lot to me,” she insisted. “Surely a man wouldn’t stand to be treated that way?” She immediately regretted her words.
The corners of his lips turned down. “Most see me as a boy.”
He wasn’t a boy, not to her, not with his muscular shoulders and arms from working the farm.
“I didn’t mean any harm,” she said, hesitating as she tried to think of a way to change the subject. “What age are you?”
“Eighteen.”
“Eighteen? But she must be…” Kali covered her mouth.
He smiled. “Older? Yes. My family has always been poor. Most of us here live under the whims of the landowners. Her family wasn’t one of the very wealthy, but they worked hard to buy land. In fact, her family owned the land we worked on, and with it, the roof over our heads. The rent wasn’t high, but when my father died, my mother fell behind on payments. She ended up owing money to everyone. Marusya's father had no sons, and his only daughter had come to terms with being a spinster. Still, he couldn’t bear to dip into his pockets to pay the wage for a farmhand, so he offered us a deal.” He cleared his throat, and she could see how hard it was for him to tell the story.
“What was the deal?” she whispered, rooted to the spot.
“No eviction if we gave him a son-in-law. My eldest brother was already married. My younger one was too young, so it was left to me. They had money. My family didn’t, and they needed me to… do something about it.”
“What age were you?” she asked, intrigued that even the gaje had strange ways of arranging a marriage.
“Almost sixteen.”
“I’m sixteen. I should have been married by now.”
“Why aren’t you?”
She smiled. “I’m special. And I’ve got Dog here to protect me, so you don’t have to follow me around. I’m used to the kinds of rumours women like your wife enjoy spreading around.”
She moved to walk on, and held her breath with anticipation of his next move. As she hoped, he called out to her. “You tell fortunes?”
She hesitated.
“Care to tell mine?”
She should have kept moving. She should have walked back to camp, straight away, and never stopped to speak to him at all. He was different, though, and he spoke to her as if she were a worthy person. Never as something he could use. The sadness in his eyes compelled her to make him smile, or at least try.
“What’s your name?” he asked, his voice urgent.
“Kali. And you?”
“Andriy. Andriy Ivaneska.”
“Well, Andriy Ivaneska, why would you want to see your future?” she asked, watching him under the cover of her eyelashes. “Why not let it surprise you?”
“I enjoy hearing you talk,” he admitted. “Your voice is different. Peaceful.”
“Shouldn’t you be working?”
His neck and ears turned red. “I should, but I paid my younger brother to take my place.”
“Why?”
“I hate the farm. And now that my wife’s father is dead, I have some money. But I don’t know what to do with it.”
They watched each other in silence. She realised they had more in common than she expected, and a dangerous attraction pulled at them, the kind that broke hearts and ruined futures. And there she was, standing at the brink, about to fall in, and wanting to. Pretty words weren’t pushing her; a warm embrace wasn’t tipping her over the edge. The possibilities of a different future are what brought her to the edge. She wanted to believe things might change. For the first time in her life, she was tempted to see her own fate, to watch it unfold before she took that step over the precipice.
But she didn’t look.
And she took that first step toward him anyway.