The Devil Went Down to Sonora

The Devil Went Down to Sonora
Twilight crept in not so silently upon the town...in the distance could be heard the strains of gypsy violins, tambourines and guitars and singing upon the sage scented
evening breeze.
Emmeline had assisted Carlos and Jose' in packing up his stall and dismantling it with several swift maneuvers which were aided by loosening afew nuts which allowed the joints of the wooden posts to fold in upon themselves and pack neatly together into a more or less box-fashion for easy storage. The remaining few instruments he hadn't sold were carefully arranged upon soft pillowy insulation in boxes and
set into slotted shelving along the carts' high end.
'We will take these two violins to Xandor. He is the chief of this band. Also, this lute, I believe...I know someone who might find it enticing. All seems ready! Are you, Emmelina?'
Emmeline smiled and nodded, more than ready. She felt the music calling to her and feared they had missed too much already. 'What of Esperanza and Elena?'she asked.
'They are there ahead of us, I'm sure...up you go!' And Carlos helped Emmeline up onto the long drivers' seat, Jose' who was driving, took her hand to aid her, and seated her next to him, with Carlos following. 'Ayyy-up!' Jose' shook the reins and their big benita mulas bent to their work, heading out of town and toward the gathering in the vale where smoke rose from the campfires ahead.
Nearing at last, in the gloaming Em could make out a ring of round-topped wooden gypsy wagons,gay with painted colorful decorations lining the edges. Within the ring one large bonfire burned;widdershins: men and women were dancing, weaving about each other in intricate, sinuous motion while the band played passionate and alluring music that welcomed the night, the rising of the moon, the silver star-streams...Emmeline felt wrapped in a warm black velvet cloak ,as if upon a Hallow's Eve of her childhood. Enraptured, she accepted Carlos's hand as he aided her from the wagon and almost in a trance, she drifted toward the music and the dance.
As Emmeline strolled around the circle of people gathered about the dancers, she breathed in the perfumed smell of woodsmoke, cookfires with aromatic spices, and some enchanting perfume in the air like a frangipani or patchouli scent which she would ever associate with the gypsies and longed to have some token of herself,to carry with her, always. Almost a sweet yet peppery scent, like a spicey flower...she noted the gypsy children running chasing one another in their colorful dress, ribbons and bandanas streaming, followed by barking dogs also in bandanas and beaded collars of their own. As she wandered along, she noted other smaller campfires before wagons with signage, in Spanish and Portugese, which she could decode somewhat, with the aid of ideograms like an eye in the middle of an upraised palm denoting the fortune-teller, an anatomy chart in another for the healer, the heart with a fat Cupid and his bow and arrow...surely the purveyor of love-potions. Em hastened past this wagon and smiled to think she nearly felt like warding off the evil eye as she did so. Wuf! But she'd dodged a close bullet, or arrow, rather... The last thing she needed was being dogged by that darned cherub, armed to the teeth, the little bugger...Em trudged determindly back to the music.
As she neared the brightness of the big fire, she noted, silhoutted against the glow, a tall figure of a man leaning with a violin against a wagon, his face hidden 'neath a wide hatbrim. Something about him struck Em as familiar, and yet
also made her anxious. As soon as she tried to view him closer, it was as if he'd noticed her scrutiny, she thought she discerned a flick of his eye before he turned and melted away off into the shadows.
'There you are!' Elena and Esperanza appeared at Emmeline's side from out of the dusk and startled her from her musings. Esperanza smiled and glanced at Elena, happy to have made Em jump. They looked in the glow of firelight like two
schoolgirls pleased to be out playing hooky
'At last! I've missed you of late! How did your sales go?' The two women took Em's arms, flanking her, as they strolled together back to the dance and regaled her with tales of their
merchandise flying from the stall. 'We sold all we brought, and indeed, have orders to fill at later dates! A very productive market day.'The women had saved a space on one of the wooden benches at the back of the crowd. 'So. How are you liking your first gypsy dance, eh?' Esperanza squeezed her arm, gazing at the twirling dancers before them, their striped skirts spinning about them like tops.
'It's wonderful...'Emmeline breathed, as she leaned forward, hand on her chin to gaze, enraptured. And it was. Something about the stirring, minor-key music;old-world and sounding slightly Slavic yet also Spanish and Oriental as well, or Middle-Eastern perhaps. 'The music is so...all-encompassing. It draws one in, completely. I cannot figure out what kind of music it is. It seems to be the music of the entire world...'
'Gypsies are a wandering band...'Elena nodded her head in time to the music,'Surely they've picked up abit of everything from everywhere and made it their own.'
The dance ended and everyone applauded and tossed coins to the dancers who held their skirts open to catch them as they bowed around the circle. The area was cleared then and as the musicians stuck up the next tune, couples from the audience then took the floor. Em was surprised to find someone rushing up behind her. 'May I have this dance?' It was Jose', the little diablo. 'Of course, gracias!'
Em arose, taking Jose's hand, as he led her into the dance. 'You'll definately have to lead, Jose'--I'm not sure I'm familiar with this dance!'
'I will teach you. It's easy, see?' And he led her slowly through the steps, sortof a fast waltz with a few quick steps here and there. Em had a good sense of rhythm at least, and reassured herself that at least she didn't weigh much now, if she did tread upon a toe here and there...eventually she caught onto the steps and was twirling about in time with the others, having fun, she realized, something she hadn't felt free to do in a long while.
She noticed Carlos and Elena then dancing beside them, also tripping the bonfire fantastic as it were, and then, later, Carlos and Esperanza. Old Carlos gets around, it seems, Em noted, pleased. After her first dance, Em found herself in demand by the men of the town, finding fresh blood in her
novelty. Jose' bowed out politely and eagerly pounced upon other single senoritas more than willing to partner with him.
Soon Em was learning more new steps and new Spanish with her new partners and having a time, indeed. And. resplendent against the purple of her bright new blouse,Em's long red hair
then came undone in the spin of the dance and streamed out behind her,like a flaming flag.
While in the shadows, leaning against a wagon, a tall figure
watched with glittering eyes beneath a black wide-brimmed hat,
armed with a violin and bow. he had the hood of his long cloak tossed back, and seemed covered from head to his heavy booted feet. His eyes were all one could discern in the gloom, he'd a dark kerchief about his neck which hid the lower part of his face. If Em could have seen even this much of him, however, she might have recognized him. With some alarm.
                                . . . .
Twilight came to Pankhurst as well, and settled about Crowley House, Aleister, Jack and their two fair guests, who were gathered about the fire in the parlor, having supped and washed up and were now relaxing with glasses of port and coffee.
'I wouldn't feel so badly, Jack,'Diana assured him, 'Aside from Homer's hound, and the poor bear, of course, certainly more trouble was avoided than caused in all of this affair.' She paused, sipping daintily from her small glass. 'If the bear had come into town, things might have gone down altogether differently.'
'True, Jack, true!' Aleister agreed. 'It had to be done.'
'Yes, perhaps...' Jack leaned forward, elbows on knees, studying the fire, '...I just wish something could be done about the bloody Bush brigade...they cause more trouble than they're ever worth, that's for sure.' He glowered into the flames.
Al just sighed. Sugar spoke then. '...those boys have always been hell-raisers, Jack. Woody has had no end of trouble from them all. '
'Why can't anyone do anything?' Jack stood and strode over to the fireplace, running a hand through his hair, now cut a bit shorter, just below his collar.
'Money talks.' Sugar was succinct.
'We're becomming a nation beholden to robber barons,'Diana noted with disgust.
Al and Jack exchanged a glance. If only they knew, it said.
'The innocent become jailed more and more, while the guilty roam free to conduct 'business as usual'...'Diana's color rose as she warmed to her subject, and the port.
Jack nodded, resting an elbow on the mantle, while he stroked his chin, unused to the absence of whiskers as yet. 'Still...there are ways...'
Aleister shot him a dark glance and changed the subject, 'More libations, ladies? The night is young as yet!'
'None for me, thank you,'Sugar finished off her coffee.' I must be off to the late shift at Woody's soon...'
'...and I have school in the morning.'Diana added, draining her cup as well. 'But thank you gentlemen for a fine evening! I didn't know cooking was among your accomplishments, doctor!' she added, rising.
Jack looked at Al with an enquiring eyebrow raised, thinking he certainly didn't know it either.
'Not at all, ladies! Our pleasure! We must do this again soon, yes?' Aleister and Jack shepherded the women to the door and helped them with their coats, then saw them to their wagon in the early evening's waning light.
'A pleasure indeed, to make your acquaintance, Diana,'Jack took her hand and bent over it, before handing her to Al, who helped her into the driver's seat and spoke low to her, and she to him awhile.
'And Sugar. I'm so glad we had time to get to know one another better,' Jack took her hand and kissed her fingers softly. 'I must admit, at the races, when you gave Marco a pie and a kiss, I thought perhaps...'
'Oh, Jack...Marco is like a brother to me!' She smiled sweetly at him. 'I thought that you and Emmeline were certainly a couple...'
'I thought we were, too,' Jack said abit sadly.
'I see. And now she's gone.' Jack nodded. Sugar stood on tiptoe and gave him a kiss on the cheek. 'Anytime you want to talk, to
dance, to have a drink together, look me up, hear?' And with a wink, Sugar allowed Jack to help her into the seat next to Diana.
'You all need to get a watch dog!'Sugar called, as they turned around for home.
'You got that right!' Jack called back. 'Goodnight, ladies!'
'Farewell, gentlemen!' And off the ladies went into that good night.
'Loan me Trots for a moment, will you, Jack? I wish to ride
escort.'Al regarded him.
'Good man.'Jack nodded and while Al rounded up Trots with a carrot, Jack got his saddle and bridle ready. Al was up and off in a flash, galloping after his new galpals.
Jack watched him go, a small smile at the corners of his lips.
A fine soft evening it had turned out to be, indeed. Whistling, he headed back to the house. Yes, maybe things aren't as bad as he'd thought.
                           . . . .
Emmeline was becomming quite dizzy. She begged off dancing for awhile and decided to sit things out and catch her breath. She
wandered over to where apple cider was being dispensed with abandon and was given a mugful with a wink and smile from the
cider monger, gratis. Expressing her sincere thanks, she quaffed the delicious cold cider, and noticed that when the men, and some women, got their cider, the cider man slipped a little something extra into it from a demijohn he kept under the barrel. Hm.
Em had no need of strong spirits. Her head was still swimming from the twists and turns of the dance. She noted that the dancers were breaking up now, and Carlos was entering the ring along with a large, formidable man with a commanding presence whom Em believed could only be Xandor, the gypsy king. He was dressed royally, with colorful silk scarves, jewels glittering on his ears, his hands and about his neck and belt, and wore an intricately woven vest which looked like Carlos's work to Em's more experienced eye now. She also noted he held the violin that Carlos had saved for him especially. Carlos, too, had his own well-worn but sweet-sounding violin with him, as they took the stand, Xandor nodded to him, and they began to play.
All was hushed about the camp as the two violin virtuosos put on a performance fit for a sultan, a king, a president, a pasha. They played together seamlessly and then they dueled: first one, then the other, would take the lead and create a landscape of sound, conjuring mighty winds of music, a stormy sea of crashing waves of cadence, euphony of extasy in resonant tintinnabulations, a battlefield giving voice to victories and exultations...and quiet after the storm and soft sobbing strains of loves lost, of deaths and endings like winter's cold nights...and then like spring come again, like a maiden's song on a bright morning and dew on the wet grasses and birds in flight and star-struck lovers dancing together on into eternal moon bathed nights...on and on the two men became the music, each sweating and straining to keep up with the notes that demanded their playing...  At last, Xandor smiled at Carlos and
they resonated into a crescendo together, ending with a triumphant roar and finish that wrung the crowd into an exhausted frenzy of cheering and applause, calling, 'Bravo! Bravo! Xandor, El Rey!' 'Carlos! Carlos El Maestro!'
Emmeline was beside herself. She had never experienced such a
delight in her life. Tears streamed down her face as she beamed and applauded, calling her 'bravos!' To think that this man, her old Carlos, was such a virtuoso! She'd no idea. This was the greatest musical sensation she had ever dreamed.
She then found Jose' smiling at her side. He nodded. 'Now you know Carlos,' he simply said. Em was speechless a moment. 'Jose'...I truly had no idea.' Jose' just smiled and kept nodding, gazing at his mentor, and hers.
Xandor was wiping the sweat from his brow, and beaming, slapping Carlos on the back and calling for his cup like Old King Cole. He spoke forcefully but with a wide grin to Carlos,
stroking his new violin and even kissed it lovingly. Carlos was well pleased. The men accepted a full cup each and toasted one another to more cheers from the crowd. Finally, they strode from the ring and melted into the loving arms of the gypsy people gathered about them.
Em took her seat again, rather shakily. What a performance! Why, no one in the so-called 'civilized' world could touch these men in skill or feeling...she simply had not the words to describe their playing. She felt blessed by the gods.
She then noticed Jose' handing her another cup of cider. 'It wears you out, all that,'he said, nodding to the violinists.
Em agreed. She felt ravaged. Imagine how the men themselves must feel! Like they'd ran a marathon, she thought. Jose' sat beside her a moment. 'Carlos used to play, in Mexico City, you know.' Em didn't know. 'He was famous.'
'I can certainly understand why!' Em agreed. 'He...gave it up?'
Jose' nodded. 'He did. He came here, to retire from the city. To live alone in the mountains, and make his instruments and live a quiet life. He said...he said that his muse was a demanding lover, who was beginning to wear him down.' Jose' looked at Em. 'You might understand why now. Imagine having to out-do yourself, night after night, and the pressure is intense; not only to impress others who expect you to live up to your reputation, but the emotional and physical strain of such an intense performance...I don't think I could do it.' He shook his head. 'I would not wish to.'
Indeed. Em began to see a whole other Carlos before her than the one she thought she'd known.
Esperanza and Elena joined them on the bench. 'Need some cooling down after all that, ay-eee!' Esperanza said, fanning herself. They then turned their attention back to the ring where the former band of musicians again took the stand and began a slow minor-key, sensuous song announcing the arrival of a lone dancer who twirled into the ring, veiled from head to toe, who accompanied herself with castanets. As she danced, swooping low and leaping high, she slowly spun her veils about her in imitation of a bird in flight, of waves upon the ocean, of a snake's slow slither...at last she unveiled her face and smiled with her strong white teeth and with the clatter of her heels and snap of her castanets introduced a fandango while the guitarist circled about her playing in time to her rhythm. The pair circled about one another, as the crowd shouted 'Ole's!'
and they seemed to spar with music, to advance and retreat, to tease and to reject, and tease again. Ah, how Emmeline loved the Latin rhythms! Full of fire and passion...As the dance escalated in intensity, the crowd clapped faster and faster in time and with a last 'Ole!' the girl dropped gracefully at the guitarists' feet, one arm raised above her, head tossed back displaying a long curling black mane of shining ringlets. Em thought her magnificent. The guitar player slung his instrument behind him, and grasped her arm, pulling her to him. They smiled, then turned and bowed to the audience, who sighed collectively, and applauded with cheers and whistles. What a show! Em thought, clapping with gusto. What a night!
'Oh, isn't she amazing!?' Em enthused to her companions.
'Si,' answered Esperanza. 'She is the king's daughter, Josephina.'
Ah, thought Em. She seems like the daughter of a gypsy king.
'Who else could follow his act, eh?' asked her mentor, nudging her with an elbow and a knowing smile.
Em agreed. 'I would love to meet her...'
'Would you?' Esperanza rose. 'Come, then.' She took Em's hand and off they went through the crowd. Em followed nervously. Surely it was the cider talking when she spoke. What would she say...to a king's daughter?
When they approached Josephina, she was drinking cider herself and cooling off away from the fire. She'd spotted them. 'Esperanza, how good to see you!' She flung her arms about the older woman in a gentle hug.
'You, as well. How are you, my dear girl?' Esperanza kissed the gypsy girl on both cheeks. 'I would like you to meet my new apprentice, Emmeline, this is Josephina.'
'How do you do, Josephina,' Em dropped a curtsy.
Josephina smiled, taking Emmeline's hand and drawing her into a hug as well. 'I am well. You are apprentice to this old bruja, eh?'She grinned at winked at Esperanza.
'Ah, I, ah, si! I am apprenticed to Carlos, as well. I hope to learn the mandolin.'Em felt flushed with embarrasment and excitement. The king's daughter hugged her! Em noted she smelled of the spicy scent she'd detected throughout the camp.
'Is veridad?' Josephina looked impressed. Esperanza nodded. 'Ah! So! I, too, am learning the lute, the mandolina as you call it! Carlos brought a new one for me. Would you care to see it?'
'Very much!' Em answered, not believing her good fortune. Josephina, the king's beauteous gypsy daughter, seemed like such a nice girl. Em was enraptured.
'Come,' Josephina winked, taking Em's hand. 'I'm borrowing your apprentice. I shall return her, no worse for wear!' She called, as they skipped off, hand in hand away from the crowd.
Esperanza waved, and returned to the bonfire and her friends there.
'So,' Josephina slipped her arm through Emmeline's as she guided them through the camp. 'What do you think of gypsy life, eh?'
'Oh, Josephina...it's glorious...!' Em enthused.
The gypsy princess tossed her head back and laughed heartily. 'Ah, Em...may I call you that?' Em nodded. The girl could call her Fred for all she cared. 'You see only the glamour of tonight's performance, for you can be assured, a performance it is! A gypsy's life is a rough one...always on the go, traveling and enduring all weather and storms and heat and cold, being driven off by mean dogs and meaner townsfolk...dodging bullets sometimes...' the girl sighed. 'It is not all silk scarves and flamenco guitars.'
Em knew. She'd had enough of the bandita life and being a refugee and outcast herself. Rocks in my pockets, devil on my back. 'I'm sure it isn't, Josephina. I've been...on the go much myself of late. I came with friends to Esperanza's village in a fever , after weeks of...travel.' Em nearly said 'fleeing'. 'She helped cure my cough and made me well again. I have been friends with her daughter, Marta, to whom I was apprenticed back in California.'
'Ah, I see. And you are staying in their village? Truly?' She looked at Em, unbelieving.Em nodded. 'In that case, I feel I am safe in bringing you into my wagon. Si?'
'Oh, yes, si!' Em was delighted.
Josephina's wagon was next to the very largest, most ornate red wagon which Em determined must belong to her father, the king.
Josephina's was a demure cobalt blue color with what seemed like almost Egyptian heiroglyphs painted around the edges in blues, black and golds. She recognized the Eyes of Ra and Horus. 'The Eye of Ra,' Em breathed as she traced the pattern with a finger.
'Ah, you know the glyphs?'Josephina smiled. 'That is good. Come!' She alighted upon the small staircase, and opened the door out and up beckoning to Emmeline.
Inside, Em found she was not disappointed. It was a gypsy princess's wagon indeed...arranged along the bed against the wall were lushly embroidered silk pillows in deep blues, burgundy, and turquoise and purples. An elaborate cover woven with Oriental patterns and a long, black fringed edge was spread over the bed. All along the shelves lining the walls were bronze and wooden statues of many gods and dieties of foreign lands, Em recognized Sarasvati, the goddess of music with her lute-sitar-mandolin. Em smiled and went to touch it, then paused, and looked at Josephina, who nodded.
'Sarasvati. My favorite goddess.' Em caressed the artfully detailed little statue, before returning her to her shrine on the wall.
'Yes, she is mine, also. You know we gypsies descended from Egypt and India, it is told,' Josephina sat and patted the bed next to her. 'Sit!' She smiled playfully, and Em felt commanded not at all. It seemed as though she was a young girl again, just finding a new playmate at school.
Josephina grinned and leaned down underneath her bed, pulling out a wooden case. This she opened and took forth the lute that Carlos had shown Em earlier. 'Ah! Carlos's work! It is a beauty indeed, Josephina!'
'Ah, si...'the princess smiled. 'If only I could play it!' She made a hapless, rather goofy face and Em couldn't help but laugh. She liked this girl very much.Josephina thrust it toward Em. 'You play something.'
'Oh, I really don't know much...chords and scales...'Em hungered to touch the beautiful lute though. She noodled around abit, then handed it back. 'One day. Maybe next time we meet, I'll bring my mandolin and we shall know enough to play together!'
'It's a deal! as you Americans say!'Josephina agreed, setting the lute upon a chair across from them to admire.
Em gazed about, enraptured anew. Josephina leaned forward and took a candle from a low table and lit it, along with a stick of aromatic insense, smelling of sandalwood. This she set in a censer near the doorway.
'There's a certain scent I've detected that seems to permeate the camp...it's a delicious blend of something spicy and sweet and peppery all at once...I noticed your hair smells somewhat of this scent...what could it be, Josephina?' Em asked brazenly.
'Ah. Here,' she answered and opened a small drawer under the low table where the candle sat. Inside was an assortment of small bottles bearing different colored fluid. Josephina took one and uncorked the top. 'Is this the scent?' she asked, as Em leaned in for a sniff.
Em closed her eyes and breathed it in...'Ohhh, yes,'she moaned.
Josephina laughed and dabbed some onto her finger. 'Here,' she
then touched it to Em's forehead and behind each ear. Another dab, and she turned over Em's hands and perfumed her wrists. 'It's my special blend. Mostly Van-Van oil, with a touch of Frangipani, Sandal, and Patchouli. Very strong. Only a little is required.' Josephina then held Em's hand, palm up in hers, tracing the lines in her palm.
'Can you tell my fortune?'Em asked with a small smile.
Josephina nodded. 'Con permiso?' She asked, and Em said, 'Si.'
As Josephina traced the lines, she hummed softly. Emmeline recognized the song from her dance earlier. 'Soon you will be meeting a tall, dark, handsome man who will whisk you away.'
'No!' Emmeline shouted, in spite of herself.
Hmm. Not the usual reaction, thought Josephina. 'We'll look a
little deeper then,' she patted Em's hand reassuringly.
'You shall live a long life.'
'That is good. I admit I was beginning to wonder there for awhile...'
Josephina looked up at Em, in acknowledged understanding. 'I see...hmmm. Something odd. It's...hard to tell...' She turned Em's palm this way and that in the candlelight.
'What?'
'Well...this line here...it is your heart line, the line of love. You see how it runs straight here, in the beginning. It then branches out, and continues.'
'Yes? And...?'
'It looks as though you will have two true loves. Together.'
'Simultaneously?' asked Em.
Josephina nodded.
This was news. Even one was more than Em wanted. 'What else?'
She was almost afraid to ask.
'No children.'
'That's alright. I don't see how the life I live could accommodate them. I can barely tie my own shoelaces,'Em laughed and took her hand back.
'An interesting life! I haven't seen such a hand before. There's more,' Josephina intimated, 'But that's enough for now.'
'Truly, more than enough!' Em laughed.
'Here, for you.' the gypsy girl pressed the bottle of oils into Em's hand. 'To remember me by.'
'Oh, Josephina...I couldn't...' Em wanted this scent badly. 'Really?'
'Of course! I can always make more.'
In a fit of enthused thanks, Em hugged her new friend. 'Thank you! Oh, as if I could forget you, Josephina! You're a force of nature! I'll never forget this night...'Em stared at the little bottle, gilded with thin golden designs.'You dance like a goddess.'
Josephina laughed her hearty laugh again. 'Ah, I thank you. I can dance, and play the castanets! Someday, the lute as well...'
'Josephina, truly you are talented. You have the fire and passion to do anything,I believe. And your father, he is a master of his music.'
'He is master of all he does,' her friend agreed.
'And your mother...?' Em asked.
'Gone. She is passed, into Summerland.'
'Ah, I am sorry. Mine also, when I was young. My father followed, not too long after.'
'You must join our family, then, Emmelina.' Josephine took her hand again and squeezed it. She pronounced it, 'Eemeleena' as did Carlos.
'I would like that.'
'I know. We shall be blood-sisters!' Josephina dove under the bed once more, fishing about for something.
'I like the way you say my name. Actually, my mother called me 'Emmeleen,' as you say it. She said that 'Emmeline' as with a long 'i' was too British, and we were Americans now. Alas, no one would pronounce it as we wished and I simply went along with everyone.'
'How silly of them. If anyone called me 'Jose-FINE' like that!-- I would smack them. Ah, here it is,' The gypsy princess pulled forth a silver knife in an ornately carved scabbard. She lay it in her palms and showed it to Em. It was carved at the top in the likeness of the Egyptian goddess Isis.
'How beautiful!' Emmeline touched the fine carving. Josephina caught her eye as she drew forth the blade. It was a wicked, curving krys knife. 'Oh, my.'
'Yes. It is very sharp, take care. Now, just a small prick is all we need.' The gypsy girl looked into Em's eyes, her dark brown eyes had flecks of green, as did Em's blue eyes. 'I do this because you are a friend to Esperanza, and I can feel you, si? Do not let anyone else take your blood to mingle with theirs. You are too trusting. You can be tracked and identified by your blood. El Sangre es la Vida.'And Josephina touched the tip to the candle flame, and then waited a moment, then poked it into the ring finger of her left hand.'The hand nearest the heart,' she said, looking at Em.
Again, she touched the tip to the candle flame, and took Em's left hand. She looked at Em. Em nodded, and she poked a sharp hole into her finger, drawing blood.'Now,' she said, and held their fingers together, and drew her scarf off from her neck, tying it around their fingers as their blood mingled. 'It is done. You are now officially a member of our tribe and clan. So say I.'
Untying the scarf, she held her finger from Em's and regarded her new 'sister'. 'This means that you may use my name, whenever you wish, you can be 'Josephina' also. And I may use your 'Emmelina', should the situation, or mood, deem it so.'
'Truly...' Em regarded her bloody finger, and her new gypsy sister.
'...and, should anyone call ME 'Emme-LINE', I shall smack them a good one, you can be sure!' laughed Josephina.'Come. Let us return to the music. The night is young, for gypsies, hermanita!'
And so they blew out the candle and closed up the lute and Josephina rubbed her blade with oil to cleanse it and returned all to its' proper place,and locked up the wagon. Off the two girls went, Em with a sore finger, her bottle of precious oil, and a new sister.
And, indeed, the crowd seemed not to have thinned in their absence, people were still dancing the night away to the wild and empassioned music as the band of gypsies played on, now trading this member or instrument with another, and so on, the mad whirl of music seemingly never ending.
'Let us get some real refreshment, no?' asked Josephina, as she headed to the cider barrel. This time, their cups were filled with cider and the Little Something Extra that the cider man kept in his demijohn. 'Salud!' toasted the princess, and Em clacked her cup against hers and drank. It was apple jack!  Em laughed then, feeling the taste of home on her tongue.
'You like?' Em nodded assent. 'Good. A real gypsy you are now!'
Josephina proclaimed, guiding her new sister to the bench. Em started to wrap her bottle of oil in her hanky, then folded the linen with its' humble scent of lavender and put it in Josephina's hand. 'For you,' She added, 'Don't worry, it's clean! It is embroidered with my initials, see? For when you are 'Emmelina', yes?'
'Thank you, mi hermanita! I shall cherish it always!' She kissed Em on both cheeks. 'Here, have my scarf, you can wrap your oil bottle in that to keep it safe. Don't worry! One thing gypsies have plenty of is scarves!'
Em couldn't believe her good fortune. 'I'll keep it with me always. This has been such a wonderful night, Josephina! I had been feeling a little lonely of late, but your kindness has cured me.'
'That's what sisters are for.' She patted Em's arm. 'Ah, who is this I wonder? I have not seen that violinist before...'
Em looked up regarding the tall man who had taken the stand and was playing a most intriguing solo. His back was turned to them then, as they sat somewhat off to the left of center, and he struck a tall imposing figure among the locals, few of whom were over six feet. It was an interesting piece of music, sometimes rather sad, then seemingly taking the sad part of the air and turning it into something mocking the feeling, becoming genuinely joyful, then becoming wilder with passion and intensity until the dancers ceased dancing and the other musicians became still and listened attentively. Now the violinist wrought sounds from the instrument like tortured howls and gutteral groans, like cries of women in labor, and as unto the crying of lost souls...Emmeline had heard the legend that only the devil himself could play the violin as it was meant to be played, and she wondered if this was perhaps, he.
The player quietened the music allowing it to become sweet once more and filled with longing like that of a lover calling to ones' beloved, indeed, the music was so blissful and fine yet brimming with an aching sense of loss that people stared with tears in their eyes and wistful smiles upon their lips.
'...that's the violin I sold!' It was Jose' now at Em's side.
'That is Carlos's violin, he made. And that is the man I sold it to!'
'Who is he?' asked Josephina. Jose' only shrugged.
As the music became faster, building to a crescendo, it went wild again, dragging the crowd with it like a fallen rider still shacked to a runaway horse...on and on with a merry abandon a melody so beautiful and passionate that all would not have been surprised to find themselves awakening in a faery glade, prisoners of Tatania and Oberon.
As the final notes were struck with fire and relish, the player turned their way and Emmeline at last beheld the face of the violinist in the bonfire light.
It was the devil indeed.
Jack's Uncle Daryl.
                           . . . . .