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I left Nadia with a key to my apartment and told her she waswelcome to stay until I returned.I landed in Budapest and rented a small room near the center of the citythat overlooked a small square that looked as though it was thegathering spot for the neighborhood. Mothers walked with their childrenand met to swing them with others. Old men sat at a table and playedchess in the warm afternoon sunshine.I had business to attend to and not much time to linger. I started byasking where I could find gypsies. The responses ranged from humor toindignation. Apparently gypsies weren't well liked. From the gist of theconversations most were thieves and pickpockets. I was finally guided toa small shop several blocks from where I was staying.I opened the door and a bell tinkled. A pleasant looking woman in herforties entered from the rear of the store. She said something to me inHungarian and I looked puzzled."I'm sorry, I only speak English." Ah, a tourest. What brings you to my shop?" I was. I rushed to the changing cubical and stripped off. That’s when I started to understand, because there, crumpled into a pea-sized lump and nestling in the soft scented gusset of my pants, was a tiny object. I picked it out of its cotton cradle and looked more closely- teasing it apart, unfolding opening- and then a gasp of horror. In my hand, scarcely a half centimeter long, I held a pair of blue jeans and a tiny tank top that would not fit even a Barbie doll!There was a rush of recollection, the events of last night, the pain, my prayer and the lessening, reducing of the weight and pain. I had pleaded with God to take him away, to make it stop and He had. The pain had got less, the weight had gone and I remembered now with increasing horror how it had gathered on my tummy and then silently followed the invading prick to become sucked into my body. As I thought now I wondered if I actually remembered a faint cry that became ever more shrill and ever more desperate as it lessened to.
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