Gypsy in Black: The Romance of Gypsy Travelers (8 page)

“
Ceremony?
”
  She looked up at
Nicolae
curiously. 

Quickly,
Emilian
started to
answer. 
“
The kapara ceremony. 
You know of it, yes?
”

Nicolae
grabbed Sahara's arm, je
rking her toward him.  His eyes
met
Emilian
's, anger burning thro
ugh the darkness as he silenced
the man with one word. 
“
Enough!
”
 
Nicolae
pu
shed Sahara toward the
fires. 
“
You come with me, S'hara.  Now!
”
  The anger in his voice
startled Sahara.  Obediently,
she
followed
Nicolae
, glancing over her
shoulder to see the man
Emilian
disappear into the darkness.

“
Who is he?
”

Nicolae
looked down into the fa
ce of the slightly intoxicated
girl beside him.  As they near
ed the fires, her eyes began to
radiate again.  The
gem
l
ying upon her breast sparkled. 
Slowly, he smiled and
his moo
d softened. 
“
He is my brother,
S'hara.  But you must not speak with him.
He
is
mahrimed
and now, he is no one.
”
  Loo
senin
g his grip on her arm,
Nicolae
lead
her toward the center fire wh
ere the dances were still being
performed.  As soon as the musici
ans saw
Nicolae
approach
with the girl
, the music
faded away to silence and the dancers withd
rew back to their
places in the seated crowd. 

The silence disturbed Saha
ra.  Clinging to
Nicolae
's arm, she
stared around at the strange,
unfriendly faces watching her. 
Their eyes seemed too round and
dark, too full of
curiosity
. 
Looking up at
Nicolae
, she pleaded
with him. 
“
I don't like this. 
Can't we go sit down?
”

He did not answer
her.  Out o
f the corner of her eye, Sahara
noticed a man standing besi
de her. 
She turned her attention toward him and
recognized the
Rom Baro
.  He
seemed taller than she remembered.  He held
a long, narrow loaf of
bread. 
Behind him stood two
smaller gypsy boys.  One held a
glass of what Sahara assumed w
as wine and the other boy had a
soft, white substance cupped c
arefully in his hands.  The
Rom Baro
lifted the bread over his head, chanting
something that
Sahara did not understand.  The
gypsies seated around the fires
remained silent, their eyes studying the girl. 

Sahara looked around,
not listening to the
Rom Baro
's
incoherent, gypsy words.  She bega
n to finger the necklace around
her neck.  The gold felt warm under her
touch.  Smiling to
herself, she glanced at
Nicolae
. 
His nostrils flared as his dark
eyes sparkled.  There was s
omething about him that aroused
Sahara's curio
sity.  He acted my
steriously about the customs of
the gypsies, never quite explaining them fully to h
er.  Yet, he claimed
she was to be a part o
f their kumpania, a part of the
Machiwaya
vista.  Whatever that
means, she thought to herself. 

“
Nicolae
?
”
  Her voice was soft
as sh
e gazed up at him.  Her eyelids
dro
oped, a wave of drunken fatigue
washing over her.
Lazily, she
asked,
“
What is this?
”

He whispered back,
“
To make you a romni.
”
 

“
Do you mean a g
ypsy?
”

He nodded once. 
“
Something
like that.
”
  Silencing her with
his hand
placed over hers
, he returned his attention to his father. 

The ceremony continued.  The
Rom Baro
handed
Nicolae
a
piece of
bread.  Carefully,
Nicolae
broke th
e bread into two pieces, giving one to Sahara while
eat
ing the ot
her piece. 
Sahara wasn’t certain what she was supposed to do.  Nicolae nudged her and motioned toward her mouth.  She placed the piece of bread in her mouth and he smiled, reassuring her that she had done the correct thing
. 
His smile caused her heart to flutter.  It was warm and beautiful, even in the orange glow of the burning fires. 
The
Rom Baro
interru
pted her
thoughts as he took her le
ft hand and
Nicolae
's right.  Still
speaking in his gypsy language, he poured salt into their palms.  Sahara glanced down at it, her hea
d starting to spin again.  More
chanting echoed in her ears before
Nicolae
whispered for her
to throw the salt
over her shoulder. 
“
What?
”

Nicolae
nudged her. 
“
Over your shoulder.
”

The
Rom Baro
waited for S
ahara to toss the salt over her
shoulder before he handed
Nicolae
the glass of red wine.  For the
first time, the
Rom Baro
ceased speaking. 
He stood before this, a smile on his face but a distant look in his eyes.  Sahara wondered where he had drifted, to what memory gave him such pleasure.  But her thoughts were interrupted as
Nicolae
slo
wly lifted the glass of wine to his lips
be
fore handing it to Sahara.
Raising the light glass, she
sipped at it.  The wine tasted
sweeter than the harsh rakiya
from earlier in the evening
. 
It agreed with her more so, e
ager
ly, she
tilted the glass again, finishin
g the wine to the gypsy women's
dismay and the
gypsy
men's delight. 

Several gypsy women came ov
er to Sahara, taking her to one
side.  Her fatigue vanis
hed as she suddenly became very
frightened.  The women chatter
ed happily, clawing at Sahara
, turning her around and touching her
. 
Some spoke English, others their
gypsy language. 
They kept crowding around her, spinning her beneath their hands.  They were smiling and they were happy.  She understood that much.  But, of the rest, she understood
nothing
. 
Sahara glanced over
her shoulder at
Nicolae
.  He smiled
reassuringly at her.  The old
est gypsy woman, the one Sahara
assumed was the
Rom Baro
's wife,
turned around to a young girl.  Th
e girl handed the woman somet
hing.  The old woman lifted her
hands into the air as she tur
ned back.  Slowly, she placed a
fancy royal blue scarf, weaved wit
h golden threads, onto Sahara's
head.  Silence followed as the old woma
n turned Sahara around to
face th
e people.  With a gentle shove,
the old woman said,
“
Now r
eturn to him.
”

Relieved, Sahara practically
raced back to
Nicolae
's side. 
He put his arm around her waist and spun her around. 
The
people cheered, the music resume
d and the dancing began again. 
The other gypsies no longer stared at her.  Instead, they cheered and clapped, dancing and laughing along with the night.  Nicolae l
ooked down at
Sahara’s
face, masked by the blue cloth.  He reached
out to brush
his finger across her cheek.  She started to say something
, startled by his touch.  But, before she could form the words,
Nicolae
abruptly
left
her
side,
being
pulled away by several
younger gypsies. 
She watched as the younger men danced around Nicolae, their feet moving in time to the music, their hands clapping and their voice trilling in the air.  Nicolae was at the center of the men and could barely be seen through the sea of limbs and bodies.

Wan
dering around the fires, Sahara forced her
way through the peopl
e.  As the rakiya reared to her
head, she noticed that the gypsies
had multiplied.  This morning,
she had noticed a couple gypsies
here and there.  Now, they were
everywhere.  At least sixty
, if not more.  She touched her
forehead with her hand as she stood near a fire.  The music began to grow louder, enticing her.  Ope
ning her eyes, Sahara stared at
the dancing women.  They mo
ved gracefully around the fire,
lifting their arms into the air,
snapping them down
,
and then
lifting them again.  T
heir heads moved rhythmically,
from one side to another in time t
o raising and dropping of their
arms.  They trilled their tongues in waves. 

Drawn by the beauty of th
e dance and song, Sahara slowly
walked out toward the dancing women.  T
he music sped up as Sahara
neared.  The women continued danci
ng, moving their feet faster in time with the fiddles.
Carele
ssly, Sahara joined the circle,
dancing around the fire.  The m
usic raced even faster.  Sahara
pulled the scarf off her head, holding
the ends as she raised it
over her head then slowly droppi
ng it as she followed the other
gypsies
’
movements.  Her lon
g hair billowed across her face
each time she moved her head.
She began to spin, whirling in
time to the music.  Her bare feet hit t
he ground, small clouds of
dust rising.  The fiddlers
played her game as they fiddled
faster, faster, so fast Sahara
could spin no more.  Exhausted,
she collapsed in the beaten do
wn grass.  Her arms covered her
eyes,
deliriously
drunk from both liquor and laughter. 

The music stopped, causing t
he fervor of chatter to
also
cease.
Sahara opened her eyes, surprised
to see
Nicolae
standing over her. 
Raising herself on one arm, s
he stared up at him.  The smile
faded from her face as he reached a hand down.  Taking it
, Sahara
let him help her to her feet.  Still staring into his eyes, she faced him, her heart pounding
as her blood boiled through her
veins.  Was he actually exciting
her like no man had ever done? 
Why did her heart pound so?  Why did her skin burn at his touch? 
She had no time to ponder her question
s
as
Nicolae
lifted his
chin and
arm into the air.  The fiddles sang once again.  T
his time, the
song was soothingly slow.  Saha
ra looked back at
Nicolae
, relaxing
her
arm,
as she felt safe once again.