Rena remained where her ride had dropped her off. The Carnival entrance was just up ahead, occasional noises from people laughing or squeeling or screaming reaching her ear.
She stood there watching, the desire to go on warring with her hesitancy. Inside that place lay memories, of a sort. Oh, her old neighborhood was still there. Those buildings looked a hundred years old and would probably be there for another 100.
And there were crews, gopnicks in their track suits, hanging around, girls and boys showing off or looking for trouble amid the rubble and garbage and poverty. But the ones she and Nina had run with were gone, replaced by the next generation or the one after that. Despite a life seemingly free of care and worry, nearly everyone who could tried to leave. Leave before they got pregnant or got trapped in the struggle to survive.
Her last visit had not been one of good memories or homecoming- the model returned home. No. It was depressing.
And then Nina had left to be a doctor in some far off place. Not that she'd seen a lot of Nina before then. Modeling and traveling hadn't left her a lot of time. And even if it had, well, it wasn't like her big sister was her best friend. She loved Nina. But she didn't need her. Didn't even know if she liked her. Harsh, but whatever.
But somehow over the last few weeks, something started to feel off. Boring. She had an idea for what might help. But for some reason, drinking or something harder didn't appeal to her.
She found herself thinking back to earlier times. Before they had settled in Moscow. When her parents had still been alive. When they had traveled with other Romani. Grandmother had been an outsider, lured in by grandfather. And she had adopted their ways. But it wasn't all one way. She had told stories about her family. About hunters and monsters.
She guessed Papa had liked having a family secret. Something that made him different from the other Romani in their clan.
All of which meant that they had been outsiders to the Romani outsiders. Not exactly the happiest of family lives.
Still, Mama and Papa had loved her and her sister. There had been moments of joy. Moments that Rena wanted to feel again. Moments she felt like she had lost.
Lost and nowhere to go to find it. In her apartment she shared with Simone, seeming to have more than she ever could have imagined, having seen so much, she had awakened homesick.
Trouble was she had no home to be sick over. No place to go. No one to see.
If not their old neighborhood, if not Nina or Mama and Papa, then maybe other Romani. Not those she'd known. Even if she knew where they were, well, it wasn't like they were close.
But Romani, all the same.
So she stood there, wanting to enter, but scared to have yet another home taken from her. If not here, then what?
It was a couple guys coming down the street that decided her. Her white shirt was a bit open and showed cleavage. Between that and her tight low rise blue jeans, green scarf and dark purple Doc Martin's that she knew gave her an edge, well, she really didn't want to be leered at.
The grass leading up to the entry way was green amid bare patches of dirt. She swiped her wallet to pay the fee and was immediately presented with stalls and stands and boothes. They were attached to small houses of various loud colors. The sounds of music and the smell of people seeped in to her.
This was not a Romani camp as she had known it. But for all of that, it felt familiar. She wandered around, just taking it in. She seemed shy about going into any of the shops.
Rena walked along the narrow streets, content- for a while at least- to just let it soak in. That was it, she told herself. She wasn't trying to avoid actually talking to anyone. No. Not that.
She stood there watching, the desire to go on warring with her hesitancy. Inside that place lay memories, of a sort. Oh, her old neighborhood was still there. Those buildings looked a hundred years old and would probably be there for another 100.
And there were crews, gopnicks in their track suits, hanging around, girls and boys showing off or looking for trouble amid the rubble and garbage and poverty. But the ones she and Nina had run with were gone, replaced by the next generation or the one after that. Despite a life seemingly free of care and worry, nearly everyone who could tried to leave. Leave before they got pregnant or got trapped in the struggle to survive.
Her last visit had not been one of good memories or homecoming- the model returned home. No. It was depressing.
And then Nina had left to be a doctor in some far off place. Not that she'd seen a lot of Nina before then. Modeling and traveling hadn't left her a lot of time. And even if it had, well, it wasn't like her big sister was her best friend. She loved Nina. But she didn't need her. Didn't even know if she liked her. Harsh, but whatever.
But somehow over the last few weeks, something started to feel off. Boring. She had an idea for what might help. But for some reason, drinking or something harder didn't appeal to her.
She found herself thinking back to earlier times. Before they had settled in Moscow. When her parents had still been alive. When they had traveled with other Romani. Grandmother had been an outsider, lured in by grandfather. And she had adopted their ways. But it wasn't all one way. She had told stories about her family. About hunters and monsters.
She guessed Papa had liked having a family secret. Something that made him different from the other Romani in their clan.
All of which meant that they had been outsiders to the Romani outsiders. Not exactly the happiest of family lives.
Still, Mama and Papa had loved her and her sister. There had been moments of joy. Moments that Rena wanted to feel again. Moments she felt like she had lost.
Lost and nowhere to go to find it. In her apartment she shared with Simone, seeming to have more than she ever could have imagined, having seen so much, she had awakened homesick.
Trouble was she had no home to be sick over. No place to go. No one to see.
If not their old neighborhood, if not Nina or Mama and Papa, then maybe other Romani. Not those she'd known. Even if she knew where they were, well, it wasn't like they were close.
But Romani, all the same.
So she stood there, wanting to enter, but scared to have yet another home taken from her. If not here, then what?
It was a couple guys coming down the street that decided her. Her white shirt was a bit open and showed cleavage. Between that and her tight low rise blue jeans, green scarf and dark purple Doc Martin's that she knew gave her an edge, well, she really didn't want to be leered at.
The grass leading up to the entry way was green amid bare patches of dirt. She swiped her wallet to pay the fee and was immediately presented with stalls and stands and boothes. They were attached to small houses of various loud colors. The sounds of music and the smell of people seeped in to her.
This was not a Romani camp as she had known it. But for all of that, it felt familiar. She wandered around, just taking it in. She seemed shy about going into any of the shops.
Rena walked along the narrow streets, content- for a while at least- to just let it soak in. That was it, she told herself. She wasn't trying to avoid actually talking to anyone. No. Not that.