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Authors: Sarah Price
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rising above his head. His one foot sl owly kicked forward, gracefully followed by his other foot. The entire time, he stared down at Sahara, enticing her with hi s passionate eyes to follow his example. Slowly, she began t o let her intoxication take her actions as she demurely looked away then brashly looked back. Lifting her scarf over her head, she waved it back and forth in time to the music.
The fiddlers took this as a cue to quicken their pace. Nicolae let go of Sahara's hand as he began to dance wildly around the fire. Leaping into the air, Nicolae spun, landed on his knees, rolled forward, and sprang upri ght then repeated his actions. Stunned, Sahara watched him with large, dark eyes. His precise movements in time to the flamin g gypsy music aroused something inside of her she had never felt before. When he leapt into the air for the third time, he lande d in position to roll forward. The music came crashing to a halt as Nicolae 's roll found him lying at Sahara's feet. Dumbfounded, Sahara stared down at him where he laid panting, trying to catch his bre ath. He was covered in a layer of dust from rolling on the dry g round. His black hair was damp with sweat, a few pieces stuck t o his forehead. But as he lay at her feet, his eyes meeti ng hers, Sahara warmed inside. Burning with fervor of exc itement, she fell to her knees, looking at him on his own leve l. The gypsies around the fire began to shout, trill, and cheer as they looked on. Nicolae smiled at her between gulping for air. Whatever she had done, Sahara realized she had pleased Nicolae .
“ Nicolae , you like? ”
Tossing his head back, he lau ghed. His laughter rang brassy in her ears. It was a handsome sound and it made a blush cross her cheeks. When he sobered, he reache d out for her hand . “ S'hara, I like. ”
Crowds of gypsies sur rounded the fires, laughing and trilling as they tilted their bot tles of rakiya. Nicolae got to his feet, helping Sahara up once a gain. He took her scarf, dirty from dancing, and replaced it over her head. He sighed softly as he glanced at the people milling a round the burning flames. When Nicolae looked back at Sahara, he lifted her chin up to meet his eyes. “ You are tired, yes? ” Wh en she nodded, Nicolae glanced over the heads of the gypsies. Sahara couldn't see to whom he gestured, but shortly after, two older women clucked the ir tongues at her, grabbing her arm s as they dragged her away from Nicolae . He nodded, letting her know he approved.
The old women took her to a wagon. No herbs hung from the ceiling or pots from pegs in the wall. A dusty chair rested against one wall with a grey dress tossed over the back of it. A heavy wooden crate was turned upside down next to the chair. A brass candlestick holder with a half burnt white candle sat on the center of the crate. One o f the women quickly lit it. In the flickering orange glow, the on ly thing Sahara noticed was the feather mattress on the floor against the far wall. She let the old women undress her for she was too intoxicated to care. Stretching across the pillows, she shut her eyes and fell asleep before they could cover her with a thick, wool blanket.
It wasn’t until at least a month after their arrival that they met up with the other family. The girl with the infant held her head high as she was presented to the people. They looked at her, the women with frowns on their faces and the men with curiosity. She was joining their family but not through marriage. It was unusual but they all knew the reason why. It was the baby in her arms, small and meek. A child born out of wedlock and one th at , in the future, would marry into the family. In the meantime, the mother would be the caretaker, a burden to them as they must care for her with no man to help shoulder the task.
The girl did not meet their gazes. She stared
The fiddlers took this as a cue to quicken their pace. Nicolae let go of Sahara's hand as he began to dance wildly around the fire. Leaping into the air, Nicolae spun, landed on his knees, rolled forward, and sprang upri ght then repeated his actions. Stunned, Sahara watched him with large, dark eyes. His precise movements in time to the flamin g gypsy music aroused something inside of her she had never felt before. When he leapt into the air for the third time, he lande d in position to roll forward. The music came crashing to a halt as Nicolae 's roll found him lying at Sahara's feet. Dumbfounded, Sahara stared down at him where he laid panting, trying to catch his bre ath. He was covered in a layer of dust from rolling on the dry g round. His black hair was damp with sweat, a few pieces stuck t o his forehead. But as he lay at her feet, his eyes meeti ng hers, Sahara warmed inside. Burning with fervor of exc itement, she fell to her knees, looking at him on his own leve l. The gypsies around the fire began to shout, trill, and cheer as they looked on. Nicolae smiled at her between gulping for air. Whatever she had done, Sahara realized she had pleased Nicolae .
“ Nicolae , you like? ”
Tossing his head back, he lau ghed. His laughter rang brassy in her ears. It was a handsome sound and it made a blush cross her cheeks. When he sobered, he reache d out for her hand . “ S'hara, I like. ”
Crowds of gypsies sur rounded the fires, laughing and trilling as they tilted their bot tles of rakiya. Nicolae got to his feet, helping Sahara up once a gain. He took her scarf, dirty from dancing, and replaced it over her head. He sighed softly as he glanced at the people milling a round the burning flames. When Nicolae looked back at Sahara, he lifted her chin up to meet his eyes. “ You are tired, yes? ” Wh en she nodded, Nicolae glanced over the heads of the gypsies. Sahara couldn't see to whom he gestured, but shortly after, two older women clucked the ir tongues at her, grabbing her arm s as they dragged her away from Nicolae . He nodded, letting her know he approved.
The old women took her to a wagon. No herbs hung from the ceiling or pots from pegs in the wall. A dusty chair rested against one wall with a grey dress tossed over the back of it. A heavy wooden crate was turned upside down next to the chair. A brass candlestick holder with a half burnt white candle sat on the center of the crate. One o f the women quickly lit it. In the flickering orange glow, the on ly thing Sahara noticed was the feather mattress on the floor against the far wall. She let the old women undress her for she was too intoxicated to care. Stretching across the pillows, she shut her eyes and fell asleep before they could cover her with a thick, wool blanket.
It wasn’t until at least a month after their arrival that they met up with the other family. The girl with the infant held her head high as she was presented to the people. They looked at her, the women with frowns on their faces and the men with curiosity. She was joining their family but not through marriage. It was unusual but they all knew the reason why. It was the baby in her arms, small and meek. A child born out of wedlock and one th at , in the future, would marry into the family. In the meantime, the mother would be the caretaker, a burden to them as they must care for her with no man to help shoulder the task.
The girl did not meet their gazes. She stared
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