Madeline Sheehan - The Soul Mate

Nadya, hands on hips, narrowed her pretty brown eyes. “I think I’m going to have a hard time telling him what a cai fundul you are with him under your boot!”

Even with his face in the dirt I could hear Marko laughing.

“Who’s next frate’s?” Xan bellowed helping Marko up. He released him with a friendly shove.

This was a typical afternoon for the guys. Hours upon hours of physical labor was never enough to tire them out. They had to beat each other bloody, bruised and broken in order to call it a day.

Cupping his hands around his mouth, Shandor yelled, “Hockey! Come on man! Get over here!”

Cutting wood near the chicken coop, Hockey waved them off. Becki’s stark look of disappointment didn’t go unnoticed by me. Why Hockey’s lack of participation bothered her was beyond my comprehension.

In my opinion the frighteningly masculine display was utterly unnecessary to prove one’s worth. No matter how beautiful their muscles looked as they tightened and released, gathering a nice coat of shine the harder they worked at bringing their opponent down, it hardly determined what kind of person they are. It only proved they could kick some ass. Not that I had much experience in the way of relationships, but it seemed that there had to be more to it than winning wrestling matches if it was going to work.

“I’ll fight you, brother.” Gerik strode forward, his hands shoved in his pockets. Shandor both snickered and giggled, sounding like a deranged hyena.

“Oooh damn,” Loiza Siwak breathed, watching Gerik take his shirt off. “I have always been so jealous of Onyx. That Gypsy bitch gets that beautiful man naked every single night.”

She turned toward the Horváth’s and lowered her voice, “My tent is right next to Onyx’s and you should hear the two of them go at it. Oh. My. God.” In a romantic gesture, Loiza put her hand over her heart. Hearing that, the Horváth’s began to giggle like thirteen year old girls.

Becki turned toward me, eyes wide, and I immediately looked away, my stomach clenching. I’d had my suspicions, it was hard not to since I had seen them disappear together and heard tidbits of rumors around camp, but hearing firsthand that they were together every single night by someone who lived right next door to Onyx was like a punch in the gut.

Xan was pouring some water over his already torn and bloodied fingers. His bottom lip was split in several places and blood was trickling from the corner of his mouth but his dark eyes were alit with pleasure. The word crazy came to mind as I watched him.

Cracking his destroyed knuckles and rolling his shoulders, he faced Gerik, smiling impishly. I shook my head. What an idiot.

Gerik, smirking, threw the first punch. His fist shot out with ridiculous speed and Xan’s head was thrust back with an audible crack. His footing wavered as he stumbled backwards but he caught himself before he fell.

The girls went crazy.

Xan’s smile had disappeared. In its place was what was going to be some nasty bruises.

They rushed each other like bulls, heads down and horns forward…er, fists forward.

I jumped up.

“Where are you going?” Becki looked shocked that I would even consider leaving this useless testosterone laden display.

“I can’t watch this.” I gestured toward Gerik and Xan. Xan was face down in Gerik’s chest, pummeling his abdomen. With both arms wrapped around Xan’s neck, Gerik was trying to wrestle him to the ground.

“Want me to tell you who wins?”

I gave her a wry look. “I’m sure I’ll be able to figure it out.”

Fire meetings were our once a week version of a party. The entire clan gathered together for a lavish spread of drinks and food, storytelling, music and dancing. The celebrating usually lasted long into the night and sometimes didn’t end until the first sign of the sun.

Tonight I had been asked to tell a story, since I’d made it my business to tell them all the time anyway. I couldn’t help myself. My Daddy had been a born story teller and I’d grown up regaled with tales of Greek Gods and Goddesses and the mythology of Greece long ago. To me, it was as cherished as the stories in bible were for others. I knew the myths and legends like the back of my hand and loved re-telling them.

I waited until most of the children had gathered around me; the Moldoveanu Family twins, Pali and Mala, were taking up space on both of my knees while little Benyamin Vãdura sat directly in my lap.

Maisera, sitting with Jericho, held up her hands signaling silence to the clan. As silence descended, she smiled at me, her many wrinkles causing her face to crinkle like a ball of crumpled paper.

I scanned the crowd quickly, not focusing on anyone in particular. I didn’t see Gerik, didn’t smell him and exhaled a sigh of relief.

“Do you all know the legend of the mermaid?” I directed my question at the children. A lot of them shook their heads yes.

I smiled. “Are you sure?”

“Do they come from Greek, Trinny?” Daniella asked.

“Greece,” I corrected her. “And yes, they do. Everything does.” A collective groan followed my statement and a lot of laughter.

“Who can tell me what a mermaid looks like?”

Pali pulled on my hair. “Nakey,” He said very seriously. The men in the crowd roared with laughter and Pali, startled, looked confused by the reaction. I hugged him and whispered, “You’re right, ignore them.” Pali grinned, proud of himself.

“Mermaids are usually naked. They have the torso, arms and head of human but they also have the tail of a very large fish.”

“How do they take a crap?” Stevo Moldoveanu shouted.

“Ow!” He cried as a cup was thrown at his head.

“Anyway,” I continued, shooting him a dirty look. “This story is about the very first Mermaid, a Macedonian Princess named Thessalonike, who lived in a time so long ago no one knows exactly what year this story took place.

“Was she beautiful?”

“Yes Daniella, very. All princesses are, especially Roma Princesses, like you.”

The little girl grinned revealing several missing teeth.

Her brother was Alexander the Great…” I paused, “You all know who he was right?” A bevy of small heads shook their heads back and forth. I groaned.

“Ok, well that will be a story for another time. All you need to know is he was a great warrior, a great king, and he loved his sister Thessalonike very much. He also loved adventures and during one he discovered the Fountain of Immortality-

“What’s immorodally?” Adi’s big brown eyes were full of innocence. She reminded me of a young Tahyra when our father would tell us the same stories.

“It’s living forever without getting older.”

Little Benyamin Jr.’s eyes went even wide.

“But I want to get older,” He cried out. “I want to be big and strong like tată and Hockey and Xan.”

“I am definitely bigger than Hockey.” Xan’s voice cut through the chuckles. Hockey gave him a mocking grin, then went back to chewing on a blade of grass.

Benyamin Sr. came and collected his son, pulling him into his lap. “You’re going to grow big son; you have nothing to worry about. Let the poor girl finish her story.”

“So,” I continued. “Alexander found this fountain and took some of its immortal water and brought it home. The story goes that he bathed her hair in the precious water-

“Why?” Mala’s face was scrunched up in confusion. “Why not drink it?”

I sighed. “I’m not really sure why.”

“Dumping it on her hair sounds pretty stupid to me.” A few of the other children murmured in agreement with her.

“Well, whether it was stupid or not, that’s what happened. Not long after, Alexander died in battle and a grief stricken Thessalonike tried to kill herself by jumping into the sea. But, because of the immortal water her brother had washed her hair in, she didn’t die.