by J. J. Neeson
Then she heard the music.
It drifted across the water, a lively melody that was raw and stirring—real. As real as the pier she sat upon, so much so that it demanded her body to dance. She didn’t obey the command, still caught between her exhaustion and the new day, but she wanted to, and so she walked.
In her bare feet, she followed the trail that ran along the bayou, the arms of the willow trees caressing her shoulders and the moss soft beneath her step. As she walked, she prayed she found the music before she wandered upon a not-so-friendly shack. An image of a Rottweiler chasing her into the water came into mind, but she pushed it aside, along with many others, drawn by the lure of the music.
Parting the curtain of branches that cascaded around her, she arrived at where the marsh was most narrow. She stood alone along the bank, but across the water, over a poorly built bridge, was a two-story river house much larger than her own. An extensive dock circled the side of the house where a fleet of boats were moored, some small and handmade, others large with huge fans for tails to navigate the swamps.
The house had its rustic charm, but what captivated her more was the assembly of men who danced within the manicured reeds near the dock, turning circles while women and children clapped along to live music, courtesy of what appeared to be an Eastern European folk band.
The gypsies.
They wore normal, everyday clothing, but the women had crimson blossoms in their hair, and the men sprigs of a jagged herb pinned to their shirts. Mesmerized, Reigh continued to watch, following the recital until the men stopped, pouring sweat and joy, hugging each other as the crowd clapped around them. She breathed it all in, including the aroma of the heavily spiced food wafting in the breeze.
“It’s a samodiva!” a little girl with a crown of leaves called out, pointing at Reigh. “Across the water. Your dance woke her up.”
A man with strong arms and a handsome, structured face picked the little girl up. “What are you talking about?” he asked with humor, loud enough that Reigh could hear from her short distance away.
“Daddy, look!” The girl pointed again. “She’s across the water—the blonde woman. The samodiva.”
The man looked and, upon seeing Reigh, smiled broadly with dazzling white teeth. “So it is. Hello!” he shouted.
Reigh waved, unsure if she was intruding or not. “Hey! I live down the bayou. We’re neighbors. I heard the music and followed it down.”
“You have it the wrong way around,” he told her. “It is the samodivas who sing the siren songs, making mortal men dance through the night until they drop dead from exhaustion.”
Reigh didn’t know what he was referring to, so she simply shrugged her shoulders. “I can’t sing. I must be broken.”
“Reigh?” a woman called out, pushing her way through the gathering. “Is that you?”
Nikki.
I forgot she lives so close by, Reigh thought.
Nikki stood in the reeds next to the man, her long raven-black hair tousled around her smoky, cat-like eyes, her presence entirely glamorous despite her ripped jeans and faded T-shirt.
“Hey,” Reigh said, waving once again. “Cool party.”
“Do you want to come over and join us?”
Reigh looked across the river, uncertain. The food smelled wonderful, and it was the distraction she needed, but she didn’t want to intrude. “What are you celebrating?” she asked, praying it wasn’t some sort of happy funeral that she was interrupting.
“Mermaids!” the little girl squealed.
“Rusalijska Nedelya,” Nikki elaborated. “It’s a weeklong Bulgarian festival we celebrate after Pentecost to honor the water nymphs—or mermaids. The nymphs leave the river this time every year to dust drops of water upon the land, making it lush and fertile. But they’re roguish creatures—playful and deadly. Folklore teaches that if you work during this week, or if you happen upon a nymph before its end, you’ll suffer from a mermaid disease. So the week is spent feasting, dancing, and healing—but not working. Come over.” She indicated the bridge. “It’s sturdier than it looks.”
“Okay,” Reigh agreed, but she hesitated. Several areas of the bridge sank into the water, as if it had no support other than the will of the bayou. She wasn’t used to being around water. Living next to it in the shack had been an adjustment. Walking across it felt biblical, especially with gators lurking about.
“It’s okay, I’ll come get you,” Nikki said. “Wait there.”
“Who’s the hottie?” a slightly older version of Nikki asked, joining father and daughter as Nikki left for the dock.
“A samodiva,” the little girl said, her eyes wide. “She’s going to make the men dance to death. I have to warn Grandpa. He’s too old to die.” She struggled out of her father’s arms and ran back to the house.
“So stay away, Rumen,” Nikki called over her shoulder as she floated down into one of the smaller motorboats. “Not unless you want to end up dead.”
“For blondie, anytime!” Rumen shouted for Reigh’s benefit before he returned to the festival, taking Papa Bear with him.
Steering expertly, Nikki cruised across the narrow gap to Reigh. “Sorry about my brothers,” she said, reaching the bank. “There’s a lot of them. Just swat the single ones away. And the married ones. Unless it’s Stoyan—the one with the daughter you just met. He’s okay.”
With Nikki’s help, Reigh stepped into the boat, trying to keep her balance when it tilted under her weight. “Don’t worry, I can handle myself. You the only girl?”
“How can you tell?”
“You spoke of your brothers as if they were a burden, so I just figured.”
“The burden isn’t my brothers. It’s the culture they were raised in.”
Nikki didn’t look as if she wanted to get into it, so Reigh didn’t press. “Thanks for the ride,” she said a moment later, arriving across the river. “I guess I better get used to the water if I’m going to live on the bayou.”
“It takes time. Anyway, you’re a samodiva,” Nikki reminded her cheerfully as they pulled into the dock. “Your home is the woods. You can leave the water to the mermaids.”
“What is a samodiva?”
“In Bulgaria, a samodiva is a woodland nymph. She walks among the forests and slumbers within the caves, but her true element is fire. They’re described as maidens with long blonde hair and blazing eyes. When a samodiva is enraged, she transforms into a giant bird, able to breathe fire. She is divine, and she is wild.”
Reigh thought of herself in her cut-offs and flannel. She had the blonde hair, and she was a bit wild, but she most certainly wasn’t divine. Nor could she turn into a bird of fire, as wonderful as that would be, especially when it came to retaliating on her haters in Vegas.
“My niece probably thought you were one because of your blonde hair and bare feet,” Nikki said, anchoring the motorboat after Reigh was safely out and standing on the dock. “My feet are bigger than yours, so I don’t have a pair of shoes to lend you, but I do have slippers. Trust me, with all the dancing at Rusalijska Nedelya, you’ll want to cushion your feet.”
“Sure. Thanks.”
They entered the field of reeds as the music started again. This time, everyone began to dance, moving to a loose choreography that involved more laughter than it did footwork.
“I’ll get the slippers,” Nikki said over the music. “Help yourself to the food in the kitchen.” Then she was gone, swallowed by the crowd.
“There ain’t no party like a Romani party,” Rumen said, returning. “Ready to dance?”
“No shoes,” Reigh said, pointing down, not wanting to encourage him.
“No excuse,” Rumen countered, and he lifted her up and twirled her around. “It’s not every day we get a samodiva at Rusalijska Nedelya. You’re our guest of honor.”
Reigh laughed, despite herself. “Careful, I can breathe fire,” she said as he spun her through the crowd. “Don’t test my wrath.”
“Wrath is
dirty. I like it dirty,” he claimed. Then he passed her on to Stoyan. “Keep the nymphs dancing,” he instructed.
In line with the music, Stoyan also lifted her up, his grip strong and masculine. It caught on. Soon, the rest of the men did the same with the women brave enough to remain in the reeds, chanting, “Keep the nymphs dancing!” Reigh barely had her feet on the ground before another man had her in the air. By the time the music finished, they were soaked in a new sweat and beaming with glee.
Applauding the musicians, Reigh fell onto a soft patch of bare earth, but Stoyan’s daughter soon found her and pulled her back into the flock of dancers. She was glad. Dancing caused her blood to pulse, raw and decisive. Real.
***
“I didn’t mean to stay so long,” Reigh said, sitting on the dock with Nikki and Stoyan, shaking her feet with a massive pair of fuzzy purple slippers on them. “How did the night come so quickly?” she sighed happily.
Around the river house, the band had retired their instruments, and the inebriation of a day of sun, dancing, and food had recessed the gathering into smaller groups who chatted idly before the upcoming late-night session shook the ground once more.
“The night was already here,” Nikki replied, yawning. “It’s the day that invades the night, the sunlight that covers the starlight.”
“Sunlight is starlight,” Stoyan corrected lightheartedly. “You should know that.”
“That’s right, you study astro-something-or-other,” Reigh recalled. “How do you do it?”
“Do what?”
“Know so much about science yet still believe in magic.”
“I don’t believe in magic; I know it exists,” she huffed. “And so do you. There are lots of things in the universe science can’t yet explain but strives to. Magic is one of them. In my studies at the university, I hope to help people understand that magic is not distinct from other forces that comprise the universe.”
“Too bad Ma doesn’t see it that way,” Stoyan said, picking at a splinter in the wood of the dock.
Nikki scowled. “Ma will always resent me for choosing an education over a man.” She turned to Reigh and explained. “I’m only twenty-four, but in Romani culture, I’m essentially a spinster. Most Romani girls are married when they’re still in their teens. My Ma is very traditional. If she had it her way, I’d be hitched with three kids by now.” She spoke full of disgruntlement.
“Go easy on Ma, Nikolina. You’re her only daughter. The way she sees it, you’ve deprived her of the wedding she’s always dreamed of.”
“She’s dreamed of? Who’s the one getting married?” Nikki challenged.
“No one. That’s the problem.”
“What about the weddings of her sons?”
Stoyan ran a hand through his glossy dark hair. “You know sons getting married isn’t the same as a daughter getting married. Plus, to add salt to the wound, when you’re not studying, instead of coming home to spend more time with the family, you’re off rallying on women’s rights. Ma nearly had a heart attack last winter when she got your email saying you were spending Christmas abroad at a protest against underage marriage in Pakistan.”
“That should make her proud! I was fighting against girls not much older than your daughter being forced to endure the marriage bed of men four times their age.”
Reigh felt nauseated. “That happens?”
“Yes. There are so many females, young and old, around the world who need our protection. It’s always been that way. Why do you think our ancestors revered mythological creatures like the samodivas who dance men to death? It was because they needed women they could turn to for inspiration and hope, no matter how dark those women were. Women that might one day liberate them. I love my people, and I love my family, but everything Ma wants for me—to be a good wife who does what she’s told—represents everything I’m fighting against.”
Nikki looked angry enough to cry. Not knowing what else to do, Reigh stared ahead at the water. Perhaps Nikki was the true samodiva, able to control the fire of the earth. She was beautiful enough to be mistaken as mythological.
Stoyan’s face turned just as dark as his sister’s. “Do you think that’s why my wife left?” he asked softly. “Because I tried to be the man of the house?”
“No. She had others issues. Like fidelity.” Speaking to Reigh, Nikki added, “His wife walked out on him and his daughter three years ago.”
“No need to announce it,” Stoyan protested.
“You brought it up. And we might as well be the ones to tell her. The whole town knows, and most the women in it are lining up for when you finally come to your senses and start the divorce proceedings. You’re like the most eligible bachelor that isn’t a bachelor.”
“Sorry to hear it,” Reigh said. “But coming from someone who was abandoned by her father before she was born, your daughter doesn’t want you to wait around for her sake. She wants you to be happy.”
“Thanks. That’s probably something I needed to hear.” He picked at the wood again then laughed. “So this has gotten intense. Don’t worry, Reigh. It’s not always like this. We’ll be dancing beneath the stars soon enough, after the food is digested and the liquor is flowing.”
Reigh looked up at the stars, wondering just how late it was. And wondering who was out there, watching. “Actually, I better head back. I have a problem I’ve been running away from.”
“Thorston?” Nikki guessed.
Reigh was surprised, but not overly so. They may be in the heart of the bayou, but they were still in Broken Ridge, a town where people knew things unspoken. “How did you know?”
“I saw the body language between you two the other night.”
“Oh. I guess it was obvious to everyone except me. But I can’t be with Thorston, not when Calder—”
“Is of Norse mythology,” Nikki interjected, causing Stoyan to perk his ears.
“Could get hurt,” Reigh finished. “He’s always been there for me.”
Reigh could sense Nikki’s distrust of Calder, so she was thankful when she bit her tongue on the issue. “I’ll take you home,” she said instead. “A lot of creatures lurk in the bayou at night.”
After saying goodbye to Nikki’s family, Reigh settled into the boat as Nikki steered it down the water towards her shack. She listened as Nikki spoke more of the causes she rallied for and against. Reigh tried to listen, knowing the issues were important, but it was hard to focus with Calder and Thorston competing for her thoughts.
However, nearing the shack, Calder won her attention, in a big way.
The Northern Lights were back.
“This is more than a gift,” Nikki said as the blue and green lights danced on top the water, reflected in the moonlight. “It’s a message. He’s coming for you.”
***
Reigh couldn’t bring herself to go into the shack. Thorston’s motorcycle was parked out front. He was in there, waiting for her. Away from him, she had been certain that they could not pursue whatever was happening, for Calder’s sake, but now that there was only a rundown wall between them, all she wanted to do was fly into his arms. It was undeniable. She had feelings for him, feelings that went deeper than a night in the woods.
“What am I going to do?” she pondered, running a hand over the motorcycle.
“Nothing you don’t want to do,” Thorston said from the porch, joining her outside. “Sorry I took off.”
Reigh kept her hand on the motorcycle. It steadied her. “It’s okay. I did the exact same thing. I stayed at Lu’s after we… fixed the power.”
He smiled, remembering. But then he frowned. “Based on your expression, it doesn’t look like we’ll be fixing the power again anytime soon.”
“I don’t know…” she trailed off. “It was fun. Hell, it was more than fun. It was amazing. But Calder—”
“Isn’t here,” he insisted.
“Isn’t he?” Reigh said, lifting her hands to the lights in the sky.
Thorston folded
his arms. “Do you love him?”
It was a simple question, but it did not have a simple answer. She did love Calder; she just didn’t know in what capacity. Until Broken Ridge, she had only considered Calder a friend. Her only friend. When she didn’t still think of him as the boy in his flannels, whenever she saw him as the man in his suits, he seemed untouchable. Running into Calder in Broken Ridge, away from the neon lights of the Strip that supervised their friendship, it was the first time she had truly seen him for what he had become—a man with passion and authority. It aroused her. But that didn’t mean she was in love with him.
“It’s not a question of love. It’s too early to think of that. It’s a question of whether I respect him enough not to be sleeping with other men when I’m waiting for him to come back.”
Thorston didn’t buy it. “I know we haven’t known each other long, Reigh, but I know you well enough to recognize when you’re pushing someone away. What’s wrong?”
“You’re a flight risk,” she stated. “I know what happened between you and Eva. Lu told me. What if one day you get bored of me? I can’t take any more people leaving me. I’m tired of feeling abandoned.” Her voice shook with honesty.
“You don’t know the entire story with Eva. You don’t know what I was feeling at the time—how Eva was making demands I could not fulfil. She went from being this free-spirited individual who knew her own happiness to being totally dependent on me for even the smallest amount of joy. I loved her, and that’s why I left. She needed to know how to be happy on her own again. She needed to know herself.”
“Do you still love her?” Reigh tensed, not sure she wanted to hear the answer.
“No,” he said truthfully. “It was a long time ago. It was hard to get over her, but I have.”
His story made sense, but she knew Thorston just as much as he claimed to know her. Like his friend Dodger, he liked to chase the sun. “But you wanted to leave, regardless. You were never going to stay. Eva’s problem wasn’t just that she became dependent on you. It was that she wasn’t willing to leave with you.”