Almira found Baba’s hut in Cardboard City by following the directions from the map that Rika had drawn based on Saida’s instructions. She recognized it by the umbrella on top of the roof. She came up to it just as Baba was telling fortunes. Almira decided to hide in the bushes and wait.
It had been several weeks since Saida had confided in her that she couldn’t return to the homeless settlement under the bridge and the life of misery she had lived before she met Almira and Rika.
“If I go back there,” she said, “I will never get out. I will be hungry and cold for the rest of my life.”
Almira asked Rika what he thought. Maybe they could take in both of them. The summer was ending, and they were going back home. The apartment that Rika had inherited from his grandfather was spacious enough for four people, and he earned enough in his regular job as a mechanic. They could help Nikola and Saida get all the documents they needed to register their residence at their place and start going to school. Considering that they were orphans and Ramina was practically homeless with no income, Almira had hoped it wouldn’t be difficult to obtain guardianship of Nikola and Saida. They found out that they could apply for help from the government as well. All that would take time, but Nikola and Saida could stay with them while it was being sorted out.
It was time to talk to Baba.
Almira arrived at the settlement confident and determined. She would first say what she had planned to say and then negotiate with Ramina. Yet, seeing Baba through the small window, Almira was suddenly overwhelmed by fear of the old woman’s reaction.
Is she going to be relieved to hear that her grandchildren will have a chance to live better lives? Or will she be angry and try to stop them leaving?
“Ace of hearts. Good. Home and love. Pleasant news. Love letter. Watch out for gossip.”
Baba dropped the cards and lit up a cigarette. “I’m not saying anything else. You only paid for a short fortune-telling.”
The woman slid a note into Baba’s pocket, satisfied.
An elderly woman entered the kitchen and sat down across from Baba. “I haven’t heard from my husband for three days. I don’t know what to do. Something bad may have happened to him. Maybe he left me. Can you find out in your cards?”
“Of course! Who around here is a better fortune-teller?”
The woman wiped her eyes with a pink handkerchief. “I am so worried, Ramina. I haven’t slept for two days.”
Baba laid out the cards. Three rows of seven cards, from left to right. The woman sat still, rigid with anticipation.
Baba opened the cards. Ten of spades. Not good. She didn’t like to be the bearer of bad news. “The future is not clear. Happens when the weather is not stable, the stars don’t show up properly.”
“What do they say?” the woman insisted. Her face was white and the dark bags under her eyes trembled.
Baba mixed up the cards. “I already said that the future is not clear.”
The woman stood up and stormed out angrily.
Almira knelt in the bushes trying hard not to make a sound. She suddenly had doubts, and empathized with the woman. She must care deeply for Nikola and Saida, and she didn’t know where they were. She must be wondering if they were alive and well, or if she would ever see them again? She must be wondering what could she do to get them back.
I’m hiding two steps from her table, and I have all the answers, Almira thought.
Baba laid out the cards, whispering to herself, “For Saida, first. Queen of clubs, young friendly woman. Who is that young friendly woman? What about Nikola? Ten of clubs, successful journey; Nine of spades: unexpected good luck. What is this card saying? Sickness. Luck. He was sick but got better.”
I shouldn’t look into my own future. But I have to find out what is happening to the children. Loss of money and tears.
It must be the money I lost to Angel. She thought about his real estate office and the crowd of people standing outside, shouting that they had been cheated.
Baba had lost all her money saved during her many years of collecting paper, doing fortune-telling, cleaning people’s houses, selling plastic bags, lavender and vegetables at the market–it was all gone.
Angel had shut down his office and ran away with all their money—probably to Argentina. The police were looking for him. It turned out that Angel sold fictitious apartments for a small down payment. Attracted by what had seemed like a good deal, Angel’s clients lost everything they had.
Laso started to bark, and there was a knock at the door. Almira entered through the narrow curtain opening.
“Good afternoon,” Almira said. “I am sure that you remember me.”
Baba didn’t bother to answer the question. She waited for Almira to continue.
“It’s about Nikola. He got very sick in Guča with a fever, after playing for hours with a trumpet master called Drago. He heard Nikola playing on the street.”
“I thought I could trust you to keep him safe!”
“He’s better now.” Almira was on the verge of tears. Her self-confidence had vanished. “We waited for him to get better before coming back. It took him time to recover.”
“Where is he now? Oh, Nikolche, Nikolche!”
“I am sorry to be getting back to you so late. I know you expected us to be back with Nikola after the festival was over.”
“Where is he?”
Almira’s eyebrows trembled. Since childhood, it was something that happened to her every time somebody yelled at her.
Baba’s voice had the power of thunder. Her head dropped in her lap and it seemed as if the length of her dark hair filled up the room.
“I have good news for you. Saida is here,” Almira said. “She is waiting for me in our truck. It was an unbelievable coincidence. I met her in Guča. She was working in a bar. We invited her to stay with us. The two of them are reunited. A miracle, isn’t it?”
“Where is the truck?” Grandmother said, staring at Almira with her dark eyes.
Almira was startled by the old woman’s dark eyes, and she stood frozen to the ground. Struck by the burden of hardship in those eyes, she led her to the truck.
Saida sat in the truck watching the cars stuck in rush hour traffic. Rika was trying to find a folk music radio station. He handed Saida an apple. She took it from him looking at her own hands, now soft and clean. In the last couple of weeks, Saida discovered the new pleasures: daily baths, hand creams, deodorants and healthy food. Saida was confident she made the right decision to run away. Now, maybe, a new life awaited her. Picturing herself sleeping in that cold, half-open hut in the winter rain, with an empty stomach, made her determined never to go back. She begged Almira and Rika to keep her and Nikola with them and somehow, miraculously, they agreed. Nikola said now that he had Deda’s trumpet, he would be able to make his way in the world. Nonetheless, Saida despaired about Baba sitting in the hut lonely, holding coffee between her two bony fingers.
When they approached the settlement, they all knew that Saida and Nikola couldn’t return there: the fierce stench of garbage and burned tires, children playing with frogs in puddles.
I won’t miss the smell of garbage and burned tires, she thought.
A loud crack of thunder brought her back to reality. Stray dogs barked. And there was Baba pounding at the door of the truck, her eyes burning with rage.
Saida stepped out, afraid. Rika followed.
“Where have you been? I almost died of worry and grief. You ran away and took Deda’s trumpet. No one knew whether you were alive or dead.”
Baba lifted her arm to strike Saida, but Almira stepped between them.
“I know how much you care about me, Baba,” Saida said trembling, suddenly feeling very weak. “You waited for me desperately, you worried. I know you missed me. I know how much you suffered.”
“I raised you after your parents were gone. You are my child.”
“I know, Baba, but you couldn’t give me a proper home—a real family.”
“What is a real family? A family is a family, people who live together and share the pain of life. That’s what it is. I don’t know what else I could do to make it real for you. I made our hut our home. I fed you. I never left you. I made you dolls, and I protected you from stray dogs.”
“I want to have a real home, not one with leaky roofs made from umbrellas—a place without smoke burning my eyes and wild dogs barking through the night. I want to go to school and learn how to read. I don’t want to live here ever again.”
“Rika and I discussed it,” Almira broke in. “We can keep the children at our place. They’ll be safe, well fed, and go to school. We are here to tell you that Saida and Nikola are going to live with us. This is not the place to raise children and you know that yourself. You can’t even meet their basic needs—they are hungry, cold and unsafe here. They don’t go to school. They have no future if they stay here.”
“You can’t take my family away! Saida and Nikola are all I have.”
“They will still visit you,” Almira said. “We won’t be far away.”
“And you have the twins,” Saida said.
“We live like this because I was unable to get a real job. People here don’t care about us. We are invisible to them. Roma women can’t get jobs. I can just do fortune-telling or collect paper. You are a gadjo, the entire world is made for you. And why Nikola? Does he hate it here as well?”
“All he cares about is his music,” Saida said. “His dream is to study trumpet and become a famous musician. Almira and Rika will help him with that.”
“Rika and Almira? Are they already your family! You think that they can really accept you as their own?”
“Ramina . . . ” Almira’s voice turned cold. She wanted to get it over with. “No one is taking your children away from you,” Almira said. “We are just offering a better place for them to live. We can be their guardians until they turn eighteen. We have a big apartment. What do you say?”
“Then take them with you! Go!” Baba turned to Saida. “You too! Go away with your new family and don’t come to me ever again, none of you,” she wailed.
Saida quickly jumped in the back seat, but when the truck started moving, she just had to turn and look back one more time.
Baba was walking back to the hut, surrounded by stray dogs.