CHAPTER ONE
Pribanjci, Croatia
1920
Apolonija Kek fell for Ivan Janša’s wickedly confident smile when Ivan stood in a circle of villagers in the Croatian hamlet of Pribanjci watching Apolonija and her girlfriends dance traditional Roma (Romi in the Slovenian tongue) dances. That first, innocent interaction between Apolonija and Ivan, who lived on his family’s farm in Slovenia across the Kulpa River, advanced to walks together around Pribanjci. During their strolls, Apolonija gifted time (and her attention) to the short, barrel-chested tradesman defined by hazy, pale, blue eyes, a trim black mustache, matching ebony hair, and a steady gait.
Apolonija’s father, Bohemas Kek, was Romi; a descendent of a wandering people who migrated to Europe from India in the far distant past. Apolonija’s mother, Una Omerbašić Kek, was also unusual in terms of her religion if not her ethnicity. Born in Sarajevo, Bosnia, Una was Slavic by blood and Muslim by belief; her faith the consequence of being born in a province, Bosnia-Herzegovina, that¾like neighboring Serbia¾was once part of the Ottoman Empire. As a result of the union between Bohemas, an agnostic Romi, and Una, a lapsed Muslim, the couple’s only child was raised without faith.
Apolonija didn’t seek parental permission to spend time with Ivan. She conjured excuses that, given the hustle and bustle of caravan life, went unchallenged. Neither Bohemas nor Una paid much attention to their daughter’s growing infatuation. They were too busy doing odd jobs around the village for meager pay to worry about Apolonija’s frequent absences.
As the physical and emotional connection between the young Romi/Muslim girl and the Slovenian carpenter grew, so too did their intimacy. Apolonija and Ivan knew, as a consequence of their rural childhoods, the likely result of culminating desire. Both had witnessed the frenzied mating of barnyard denizens and understood the likely outcome of such connections. As a result, the couple satisfied their ardor in ways that would not lead to a little one, the scandal of which would have caused Bohemas to pull out his ten-gauge side-by-side shotgun and put an end to Ivan’s diddling.
When Ivan learned, without so much as a farewell from Apolonija, that the Keks had left Croatia, crossed the Kulpa in their Gypsy wagon, and were headed towards Ljubljana, he sprang into action. The young Slovenian abandoned his carpentry work, bid his parents farewell, and began a long trek north in hopes of finding Apolonija.
For his journey, Ivan carried a red wool blanket snugged with twine and slung over his left shoulder by means of a rope; a canvas satchel filled with dried fruit, smoked sausage, and cheese; a pottery jug of water; and a pocketful of dinar and para. He had made no plans with the girl. He had not prepared Apolonija for a reunion. And Ivan Janša was not yet, at twenty years old, the drunkard who would one day drown in the Ljubljanica River.
