Read Online Four Doors and Other Stories by A. G. Billig - Free Book Online Page B

earth was going on in his mind? He got slowly out of bed.
    He needed a cigarette. The air was fresher now. He would go out and have a puff. However, as soon as he went outside the house, his steps, as if suddenly granted with a life of their own, took him to the town’s outskirts where the gypsy cottages were. A dog, alerted to his presence, started barking loudly. The yards were empty. He must have hallucinated earlier that day. The sun had been so strong.
    “It is best to take the other road, even if it’s longer. Get a car, maybe,” he told himself.
    He stood by this decision for about a week. He even took Mary to several secondhand car dealers in order to pick a car. They had the money but could not agree on the model. She wanted a family car, big and sound, in a dustproof color. Light grey would do. He would have chosen a more sporty vehicle, bright red or deep blue, since they were still very young and did not expect any children soon. They were both to put money into it and they had to agree. Mary, who always had her way, chose to postpone her decision knowing that, in the end, her husband would indulge her. In the meantime, he was growing restless, dissatisfied. He was taking the long road home but he barely touched his wife. In fact, it had been almost a month since they last made love. He still respected her. A lot. He was grateful for her love and devotion. Nevertheless, he had stopped lusting for her. He needed a change. Maybe they needed a change. Their love might have gotten a bit of fresh air if they moved somewhere else. Back to the big city, as a matter of fact. So, he started a frantic quest for a new job. But nothing popped up that suited his educational background and professional experience, as well as their financial expectations. So life went on just the same.
    One day, again he decided to take the shortcut. He walked through the dust, past the gypsy cottages. And there she was! Sitting on a bench attached to a fence, playing with two small children. The red scarf that was covering her head made her eyes look even greener. Just one glance at her, made him feel alive. He came closer. He needed to touch her, to convince himself she was not a dream. The girl gave him a cocky, curious eye and pulled back a little.
    “Well, if gentleman believe that any stranger can lay his hand on me, he is very, very wrong,” she said, in an uneducated yet mesmerizing voice.
    “Don’t fret. I mean no harm or disrespect. I just want to make sure that you’re real and I’m not dreaming,” he answered in the gentlest manner he could.
    “The gentleman makes fun of a simple, common gypsy girl,” she replied, casting her eyes down. The arrogance in her tone implied that she believed the opposite.
    “Whenever a girl is so beautiful, I need to make sure that I’m not dreaming. Please, tell me, what’s your name?” He was speaking in a soft voice, as if she were a fairytale creature that he would not want to scare away.
    “I’m Margaret, sir. But my folks call me Martha.”
    “Margaret suits you better!” He felt like he was back in college, trying to lure in the girl he fancied.
    “Do you know, Margaret, how happy you could make me if only you let me hold you in my arms?”
    The girl looked at him in anger.
    “Sir forgot the ring on his finger!”
    “Damn this ring!” he burst out, snatching it off his hand. “You’re totally right, I forgot. Thank you for reminding me. I should have done this a long time ago!”
    He was not lying. In fact, he was feeling so free as if, together with the ring, he had removed the burden he was carrying on his shoulders. The girl was hiding a smile in the corner of her lips. She knew she was beautiful. Besides, she was not to blame for this other woman’s inability to please him or her belief that, once he had put a jewel on her finger, he would stay for the rest of her life. She was just a plain and simple gypsy girl. But she knew her good looks would not last forever so