The Gypsy curse.

It started off as a normal road trip to Louisiana, selling beads on the way to a bead show in New Orleans. Just like we had done many times before, but this time was different. Let me tell you the story.

our moterhome was loaded with our beads in plastic tubs, along with tables, grid walls, folding chairs, baskets, coverings, everything we needed to set up the selling booth at the show we were going to. It was a big show, 400 vendors from all over the country, actuall, the world, and many thousands of customers. We specialized in vintage glass beads from Bohemia, Czechoslovakia and Germany. Anyway, we had arrived in Baton Rouge one day before setup day for the show, and spotted a Cajun restaurant on the side of the road and decided to stop and eat some real authentic Louisiana Cajun food. We were tired and a little crank after being cooped up driving non stop for four days. When we got out of the air conditioned moterhome it was oppressively hot, and very humid. Sticky. Yuck! I missed California immediately. As we approached the restaurant, we came across an old lady sitting under a large shade tree, her wares spread out in front of her on a wooden picnic table. She was beading on napkins, scarves, doilies, I guess just fabric. I didn’t care, but my wife, Jane did. She loves beads, which is why we sell beads. I’m here because I love Jane. Well, ok, I like beads now, but really if it wasn’t for Jane I wouldn’t be selling beads. Anyway, we ended up looking over the old lady’s stuff, and actually it was pretty cool. As we looked, we talked to her, and it was really difficult. Her accent was very strong, Cajun French and English pidjin, and about every third or fourth word was undiciferable, and I had to concentrate on what she was saying, and ask her to repeat. It turns out she was saying the beads were antique vintage glass seed beads from Austria, which we knew immediately because that was what we specialized in, and antique vintage fabric, lace Trim and thread from Belgium and Czechoslovakia , which we also recognized. She told us that the beaded designs she was embroidering onto the fabric was traditional Ukrainian folk art, many hundreds of years old that she had learnt from her great other in Romania and that her great grandmother had learnt from her great grandmother in the Ukraine. And that she had emigrated from the old world with her parents when she was a young child to Louisiana to escape a war only to arrive just as a big war broke out here in America. The civil war. I looked at Jane, telepathically saying to her that the old lady was crazy. It was 2026, and the civil war started in 1861, which would make her, if she was 8 years old when she arrived, 165 years old now. If my mental arithmetic was correct. Impossible! She was old, but not that old. I was starting to overheat right about then while Jane was pouring over the goodies, looking at all the designs. She was drooling, and muttering to herself. I might as well not be there, I didn’t exhist anymore, she was gone to a bead world far far away. The old lady was explaining what the design’s meant. Love, goodwill, fending off evil spirits, voodoo curses, that kind of thing, so I decided to go inside the restaurant to escape the heat and get a cold drink. As I walked away I heard the old lady say she hadn’t sold anything yet, it was a slow day. Inside, I ordered three large iced teas with lots of ice, one for me, one Jane, and one for the old lady, because she was nice, and it looked like she needed one even if she was nuts. The server mentioned that she saw us talking to the lady, that she was a Gypsy from Europe that lived here for as long as she has been alive, and was harmless and made incredible museum quality embroidered fabric clothing for a living. I went back outside and handed Jane her iced tea, which she accepted gratefully, and I gave one to the old lady, who was stunned that I would do that. She said she could not pay for it, as she hadn’t sold anything yet today. I said not to worry, it’s our treat. She accepted it and drank deeply. “Oh, it’s iced tea. My favorite. How did you know?” She asked. “ well, you didn’t look like a soda drinker, they don’t quench your thirst, and loaded with sugar. They are bad for you”. All of a sudden I realized that although her accent was as strong as ever, I could easily understand her, as could Jane. She looked at me, and I could tell what she was thinking. “What happened, her speech is intelligible now. What’s going on?” She was telepathically saying.

The old lady was saying that it was getting harder to find old vintage seed beads like she used to have, and that she had to use new Japanese beads now, but that was ok, she just had to say a blessing over them to make them special. Jane looked at me, and I knew what to do. I walked over to the moterhome and came back with a plastic tub of old vintage Bohemian seed beads from Jablonec in the Czech Republic, made when the area was Austrian. The old lady needed vintage beads to continue making her museum quality Ukrainian folk art fabrics. So they won’t fade away into history. These ones are special that the old lady was making.

Jane had picked out twenty handkerchiefs, newly made, for selling to her customers, and a beautiful scarf which I knew was going to be for herself. It had hearts beaded all around the edges, and kittens. Lace fringe, and it was purple, Jane’s favorite color. The old lady said the scarf was very old, her great grandmother made it in the Ukraine before she moved to Romania and way before she came here. That it should be in a museum. But that it has a love spell blessing on it from her great grandmother and also from herself because she liked Jane and me and wanted to sell it to us as a special momentous. With the twenty handkerchiefs and the scarf, the total was $50. Jane said that was impossible, the handkerchiefs alone are worth $100, and the scarf… who knows? She turned her back on the old lady and pulled out $600 , folded it up and faced her, handing the money to her. The old lady smiled and put it in her blouse pocket without counting or looking at the bills. She then reached under the table, rummaged around in a bag, and pulled out another piece of fabric. “ here is a gift. It is a good luck token for you, and a bad luck token for an enemy of yours. Someone close to you hates you, and wants to destroy you. I have placed a curse on it to protect you from harm, and stop the evilness of the woman who would do you harm and place her harm on herself. ” “ but how do you know this?”Jane asked. “I can see this woman hating you all her life. She is jealous of you. This is my gift to you and your husband Garth. Give it to her as a gift. But really the gift is for you. It will protect you from her. Now I must go. I have had a good day today. Sell well at your show, and love each other always”.

with that, the old lady picked up her bag of supplies and walked down a trail into a forest of trees. I took Jane’s hand walked to the moterhome. A feeling of love and peace came over me. We had just been blessed and protected by a Gypsy spell and curse at the same time. I kissed Jane, and she kissed me back. In the distance, we could hear a faint laugh. The Gypsy knew her spell was working.