The Gypsies Daughter By: Madeline G. Amelia Laurent was no ordinary child. She had known this from the time she was three. She and her father, being gypsies, would join with any caravan they saw fit. Amelia’s father was a fortune teller. Being busy during the day, he would take Amelia out at night and teach her about the constellations “My child” He would say “I know there is more to this world than the stars, I may still find out in my life, but if I do not it will be up to you.” “Yes Papa” Amelia would reply. They went through this routine almost every night, from the time Amelia was eight to the time she was eighteen. Then their lives changed forever “Amelia? Amelia!” Amelia woke suddenly. “What? I’m awake. What?” Francois smiled to himself. “You were falling off of the seat.” “Oh, well where are we?” “Some where outside of Cherbourg I understand.” Amelia nodded. A few moments passed before Amelia pulled out the lunch basket. About that time a rider came seemingly out of no where. Francois watched his daughter stiffen as the rider came close to their wagon. “Bonjour Francois!” “Bonjour.” “Bonjour Miss Amelia,” “Bonjour” Amelia had not looked at the rider while saying this. In an effort to save his daughter from her seeming embarrassment, Francois interjected. “Was there something you wanted to tell us Louis?” “ Well, we are almost to Cherbourg and I was wondering if Miss Amelia would like to have dinner with me.” Amelia’s head snapped up, her violet eyes now a dark blue color. “I will not have dinner with you! Do not ask me that again!” With that Louis, looking both embarrassed and peeved, rode off. Francois kept an eye on Amelia as she relaxed and started readying their lunch. After ten minutes had passed, the wagons pulled over for a break. Amelia jumped off of the wagon and headed to a little creek that flowed by a patch of woods. Francois followed her and sat on a stump nearby while she prepared lunch. “It’s ready papa.” Amelia, by now, was back to normal and seemed to be her happy self. But Francois knew his daughter had been extremely annoyed by Louis Vittori’s request. “Louis is a very nice young man.” Amelia’s head shot up. “Papa!” “What did I say?” “ Louis Vittori is a nice young man, but I do not care for his behavior, he is a flirt, and a drunk.” Francois was about to ask how she knew all of this when they heard a woman scream. “That sounded like Emilie!” Francois decided to check it out. “If I am not back in less than five minutes hide under those bushes or in that tree, get everything ready in case we have to leave.” Amelia nodded as Francois ran off. “Please help us!” She didn’t know who she was talking to; she just knew that they needed help. As gunshots were fired, Amelia swallowed and crawled under a bush with the lunch basket. Five minutes later big, heavy, black boots were right in front of her face. “Hey boss! Look!” Amelia realized a minute too late that her skirt was not completely under the bush. Rough hands reached under the bush and grabbed her by the wrist. Amelia wanted to scream but she realized it would do no good. “What do you want?” The man holding her only smiled and began to drag her towards the caravan. A man’s yell sounded through the woods. Amelia’s captor quickly unwound a rope from around his waist and bound her to an oak tree. Amelia watched in disbelief as the man ran away to help his friend. Five minutes passed, then ten. Amelia heard gunshot, after gunshot. As darkness neared, the fighting seemed to have stopped. “Help! Help me!” Amelia screamed and pulled on the rope that held her captive but it was no use. As the cold of the night crawled in, Amelia grew drowsy. “No! I have to stay awake, I have to stay awake, I have to… I have…” With these words Amelia fell asleep. “Hello! Are you all right? Miss?” Amelia woke with a start and started to scream when she saw a mans face in front of her. “No! I won’t hurt you, calm down!” Eventually Amelia did calm down and let herself look at her rescuer. The man was tall and one could see that he was muscular, he had nice blue eyes and light brown hair. Amelia had never cared to be around men before and had not experienced any of the feelings swarming around inside of her. “What nice eyes!’ She thought. “My name is Amelia Laurent,” Amelia began “what’s yours?” “Eugene, Eugene Moreaux.” A few hours later, Amelia wanted to go to the caravan campground. Eugene had given her some water and food, which made her realize that she had had no supper the night before. When she felt stronger, she voiced her wish. Eugene wordlessly put out the fire he had used to cook the food over and picked up his hat and coat. He helped Amelia up off of the stump she had been using as a stool and turned toward the woods in the direction that the caravan had been. Before he reached the edge of the woods he turned,”Are you sure you want to go?” Amelia stood as straight as she could.”Yes, I’m sure.” Her voice shook a little but Eugene seemed not to notice. As they neared the campsite, Amelia could smell smoke. When the campsite came into view, it was all Amelia could do to not crumple to the ground crying. “The wagons, why did they burn the wagons?” Tears filled her eyes as she looked around. What had been ten wagons, almost full of people, was reduced to rubble. Old props, which had been used in shows all over Europe, were scattered all over the ground. Costumes, dirty and torn. Food supplies gone, people, gone! “The people, Mr. Moreaux, where are my friends?” The words were spoken almost in a whisper. “I don’t know, but look!” Where Eugene was pointing there were at least five sets of footprints. “Let’s follow them!” Amelia started to walk along beside the footprints. She had walked a little ways up the path when she noticed that Eugene was not following her. She turned and looked at him. To her astonishment, he was grinning! With her chin in the air she asked ”And what do you find so funny Missour Moreaux?” Eugene couldn’t help it, she looked so funny and small.” She sure looks cute! Acts like it too, Mama would love her.” He realized that Amelia was waiting for an answer. “Are you ever afraid?” Amelia was puzzled.” What do you mean?” “Well the only time I’ve seen you ever cry is when we came upon the wagons, even then you didn’t really cry.” Amelia had walked close enough to see Eugene’s eyes. So blue they nearly took her breath away, she had to focus on what she wanted to say. “You just listen to me Eugene, I was scared when my father left me under a bush and never came back, and I was terrified when I was dragged away and tied to a tree, I don’t have any feelings left to be afraid with! If a few sets of footprints are supposed to make me run for the woods think again!” Eugene had become silent during this lecture. He had not even considered what had happened before he had come along and heard yelling. He had seen Amelia being pulled away and had decided to help. He was fighting two of the men that had attacked the caravan when the one who had dragged Amelia away came back to help. They had all ended up running for the woods when Eugene brought out the gun he always carried with him. When it seemed they were all gone, he realized that he smelled smoke. He followed it to the burning wagons. Praying for the unfortunate, Eugene rummaged through the remains. He came across a chest that had fallen out of a wagon farther away from the rest. There was little of the original content left in it, most had been burned or stolen. Intent on going through everything to ensure that he could send something to the victim’s relatives, he moved on. As he went past the chest, however, he tripped over the edge of it. Rubbing his sore foot, Eugene stood up and looked at the chest. “It can’t be!” He thought to himself. “A false bottom?” Indeed it was. Eugene stooped down and worked the bottom of the chest off. Papers threatening to blow away nearly filled the bottom of the chest. Eugene picked one up and started to read. What he read on the paper made him a little dizzy. “Why would any gypsy have these? And how did that person get them in the first place?” Chapter 2 As Eugene and Amelia followed the footprints, they were both lost in their own thoughts. Eugene thinking about the papers hidden in his saddlebags, Amelia wondering about the footprints they were following. The two had walked for a few minutes in silence when Amelia tried to strike up a conversation. “So, Missour…” “Eugene, just Eugene.” Amelia cleared her throat. “Eugene, why were you in the woods.” “Hunting.” “Oh.” Amelia was again puzzled by this man. With one word he answered a question that would take a normal person at least two sentences. Suddenly, they heard a small cry and some leaves rustling. Amelia instinctively stepped close behind Eugene. Eugene drew his knife and called for whomever it was to come out. A minute passed, then they heard leaves rustling again. A young girl, about thirteen or fourteen Eugene would guess, stepped onto the path. Tousled and dirty, tear stains were apparent on her face. Behind him, Eugene heard Amelia gasp. “Emilie? Is that you?” Emilies eyes grew wide.”Amelia? I thought you were dead!” Emilie was in tears again. “They came running after me and my dad ran in front of them and, oh Amelia they killed him!” Amelia ran out in front of Eugene and hugged Emilie. “I ran for the woods and climbed a tree. The men who attacked us rode right underneath me Amelia!” Emilie sobbing now, looked at Eugene. Still in shock, he had the knife still in his hand. “Amelia,”Emilie whispered “Who is that?” Amelia, realizing why Emilie was nervous, walked to Eugene. “Eugene! Put your knife away!” “What? Oh!” Slipping the knife back into its sheath. Eugene smiled at Emilie, who managed a small smile back. Amelia did the honors. “Emilie Watson meet Eugene Moreaux.” “It’s nice to meet you Emilie.” “It’s nice to meet you too.” Amelia turned and walked back to the disaster site, Eugene and Emilie close behind. Noting the sun was low overhead; Eugene started making a fire Amelia and Emilie had taken a trip to the river that ran through the woods to collect water and to wash the dirt from their faces and hands. “Eugene is very nice isn’t he Amelia!” Emilie gushed, “Did you see the way he helped me over that puddle? And so handsome!” As Emilie talked and talked, Amelia wondered why she was so bothered about what Emilie was saying. “Oh! Come on Amelia! He is just a man, you’ve been around them you’re whole life. Okay maybe not all your life, or ever, but you’ve certainly seen them!” “Amelia are you with me?” “Huh? What?” Emilie giggled “Thinking of a certain someone?” Amelia scoffed and walked back to camp. Eugene looked up and saw Amelia and Emilie coming, Amelia walking quickly, Emilie walking a short distance behind her giggling. “What’s so funny?” He asked “Nothing!” Said Amelia, walking over and setting the water bucket down. Still giggling, Emilie asked”Eugene? Have you ever been in love?” “Have I ever been…What?” “Nothing Missour…. Uh…Eugene.” Amelia said quickly. “Emilie bedtime.” Emilie giggled again” Yes mother!” When Emilie was finally in bed Amelia came to the water bucket for a drink before bed. Eugene, upon seeing her, had a few questions. “Amelia?” Amelia jumped and stifled a scream. “Eugene! You scared me!” “Sorry! I just had a few questions.” Amelia hesitated, when you were a gypsy, answering any question could mean trouble. “All right.” She said. “First of all, how old is Emilie?” “She will be seventeen this November.” “Okay, how old are you?” Amelia cleared her throat ”I am nineteen.”she said. “Okay, why are you so afraid of me?” “”What?” Amelia was a little embarrassed and much annoyed. Eugene was taken in by her eyes. Usually a violet color they had turned a dark blue. “Did you know that you’re beautiful when you are mad?” Amelia turned and walked away, breathing heavily. “Of all the nerve!” She muttered to herself. As she was drifting off she had a thought that was startling to her “What if he was telling the truth?” Chapter 3 When Amelia awoke the next morning, Eugene already had breakfast made and ready to eat. Quite startled that she had neglected the one duty that she previously thought no one could do as well as she could, she rushed to help with anything else. Emilie watched the scene she created with no lack of amusement. As they were packing up, Amelia inquired as to how they were going to carry everything to Cherbourg. Eugene just smiled that enigmatic smile of his and told her to wait and see. They trekked quite a ways before coming across a small buckboard wagon. “Is this your wagon Eugene?” Emilie asked. “Well, it’s a loaner, but I’m thinking of buying it.” “Where do you live?” Eugene smiled again. “I own a house in the south of France.” “Is it large?” Amelia did not here Eugene’s answer. “How is it so easy for her to talk to him? Maybe he just talks to her easier, maybe he doesn’t like me, maybe I should just be quiet and let Emilie do all of the talking.” And so she was, only a yes or a no escaped her lips while riding to Cherbourg. When Emilie fell asleep just a few miles outside of the city, silence hung over the small wagon like a heavy blanket. Amelia, as was her habit, nearly fell off of the wagon twice on the way. As they pulled up a hill late that night, he heard a noise that sounded like a thud, thinking that maybe it was one of the boats in the harbor, he drove on. Amelia, however, slept on. As Eugene pulled up in front of a big white house next to the harbor, he turned to see the look on Amelia’s face. He was shocked to find that she had disappeared! He woke Emilie up quickly and asked if she knew where she was. Her response alarmed him greatly. “Oh, she probably just fell off of the wagon again, she’s been doing that since I’ve known her!” He paused for a moment, debating what to do. The front door of the large house opened, flooding the porch with light. “Eugene? Is that you?” Eugene didn’t think he had ever been so relieved to hear his mother’s voice. “Yes mother, it’s me.” His mother walked out onto the porch, followed closely by his father. “Who do you have with you son?” His father asked. Eugene turned to Emilie and helped her down from the wagon. Emilie stood awkwardly, as though she had already embarrassed herself. “Mother, Father, this is Emilie Watson.” Emilie curtseyed. “How do you do?” Before his parents could respond, Eugene mentioned the predicament he had just discovered himself in. “For goodness sake Eugene! You mean to tell me that the girl is lying on the road somewhere?” Eugene nodded. “I’m afraid so.” His father walked forward. “Mary, take Miss Watson here and get her in bed. Son, come with me and put the horses up. You can take Dobbin and find the other girl.” Eugene followed his father into the barn. After they had bedded the horses down, his father surprised him by bursting out laughing. “So,” He exclaimed. ”You finally find a girl you like and you leave her in the middle of the road!” Eugene couldn’t believe his ears. “What?” He asked, bewildered. “Amelia Laurent will not and would not have anything to do with me even if I did like her! What makes you think I do like her anyway?” His father laughed again “Because my boy, you had the same look in your eye that I had when I discovered that your mother was deathly ill.” Eugene nodded and saddled up Dobbin. As he retraced the route he had taken with the wagon, he thought about what his father had said. “I don’t like her, she is just a person I am helping out…. but if I don’t like her, why would people think I do?” About this time he came upon a small figure laying in the road. At that moment his heart nearly skipped a beat and he knew, Eugene Moreaux had fallen head over heels for Amelia Laurent. He stepped off of Dobbin and quickly went to Amelia. He shook her gently awake and softly called her name. ”Amelia! Amelia!”` Amelia stirred slightly, then opened her eyes. She looked around, trying to figure out where she was. Her eyes slowly focused on Eugene and she realized she was laying on the ground. Amelia sat up slowly and looked around. “Where are we Eugene?” Eugene didn’t even hear her. He was too busy examining her. “Do you hurt anywhere? Are you alright?” Amelia smiled, ”Eugene!” Eugene finally realized that she had asked him a question. ”What?” “Where are we? And, can I stand up? This ground is cold.” Eugene smiled. “You fell off of the wagon. We are about a mile from my home.” Amelia had since stood up slowly and wondered how long Eugene had let her lay there. “Well where is the wagon?” Eugene gave a nervous smile. “I didn’t realize you had fallen until we got to my house.” Amelia could only stare at him. “So how long exactly have I been laying here?” Eugene grimaced. “About two hours.” Amelia was staring again. “You let me lay here asleep in the middle of the road for two hours?” Eugene only nodded. Amelia heaved a sigh of exasperation. “Would you be so kind as to give me a ride Mr.Moreaux?”Amelia asked. “Oh boy, here we go! Prima Donna act two.”