The Nostradamus prophecies

64

‘Why John Wayne?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Why John Wayne? Last night. At the wedding.’

Alexi shook his head in a vain attempt to clear it. ‘It was a movie. Hondo. I saw it on my grandfather’s television. I wanted to be John Wayne when I saw that movie.’

Sabir laughed. ‘Strange, Alexi. I never had you down as a film buff.’

‘Not any films. I only like cowboys. Randolph Scott. Clint Eastwood. Lee Van Cleef. And John Wayne.’ His eyes shone. ‘My grandfather, he preferred Terence Hill and Bud Spencer, but to me they weren’t real cowboys. Just Italian gypsies pretending to be cowboys. John Wayne was the real stuff. I wanted to be him so bad it gave me heartburn.’ They both fell silent. Then Alexi glanced up. ‘Gavril. He said things, didn’t he?’

‘Some.’

‘Lies. Lies about Yola.’

‘I’m glad you realise they were lies.’

‘Of course they’re lies. She wouldn’t tell him that about me. About that guy kicking me in the balls when he was tied up.’

‘No. She wouldn’t.’

‘Then how would he know? How did he get this information?’

Sabir closed his eyes in a ‘God give me patience’ sort of a way. ‘Ask her yourself. I can see her coming through the window.’

‘Vila Gana.’

‘What’s that?’

‘Nothing.’

‘Does vila mean vile? Is that it?’

‘No. It means a witch. And Gana is Queen of the witches.’

‘Alexi…’

Alexi threw off his blanket dramatically. ‘Who else do you think told Gavril? Who else knew? You saw that diddikai sniffing his fingers, didn’t you?’

‘He was winding you up, you idiot.’

‘She’s broken the leis prala. She’s not lacha any more. She’s not a lale romni. I shall never marry her.’

‘Alexi, I can’t understand half of what you’re saying.’

‘I’m saying she’s broken the law of brotherhood. She’s immoral. She’s not a good woman.’

‘Jesus Christ, man. You can’t be serious.’

The door opened. Yola tilted her head around the frame. ‘Why are you two arguing? I could hear you from the other side of the camp.’

Alexi fell silent. He contrived a look on his face that was both peevish, angry and prepared for chastisement at one and the same time.

Yola remained on the threshold, looking in. ‘You’ve argued with Gavril, haven’t you? You’ve had a fight?’

‘That’s what you’d like, isn’t it? For us to fight? Then you would feel wanted.’

Sabir started towards the door. ‘I think I’d better leave you both to it. Something tells me we’re not a long way shy of a quorum here.’

Yola held up her hand. ‘No. You stay. Otherwise I must go. It wouldn’t be right for me to be here only with Alexi.’

Alexi slapped the bed in mock invitation. ‘What do you mean it wouldn’t be right? You spent time alone with Gavril. You let him touch you.’

‘How can you say that? Of course I didn’t let him touch me.’

‘You told him the man in the church bit off my balls. After he punched out my teeth. You think that’s right? To tell someone that? To make a fool out of me? That bastard will spread it all around the camp. I’ll be a laughing stock.’

Yola fell silent. Her face flushed pale underneath her sun-darkened skin.

‘Why aren’t you wearing your diklo, like a proper married woman? Are you telling me Gavril didn’t kidnap you last night? That the spiuni gherman didn’t take you behind the hedge and turn you on your side?’

Sabir had never yet seen Yola cry. Now large tears welled up in her eyes and overran her face, unchecked. She dropped her head and stared fixedly at the ground.

‘ Sacais sos ne dicobelan calochin ne bridaquelan. Is that it?’

Yola sat down on the caravan step, with her back to Alexi. One of her girlfriends approached the door of the caravan but Yola shooed her off.

Sabir couldn’t understand why she didn’t respond. Didn’t refute Alexi’s allegations. ‘What did you just say to her, Alexi?’

‘I said “Eyes that can’t see, break no heart”. Yola knows what I mean.’ He turned his head away and stared fixedly at the wall.

Sabir looked from one to the other of them. Not for the fi rst time he wondered what sort of a madhouse he had stumbled into. ‘Yola?’

‘What? What is it you want?’

‘What exactly did you say to Gavril?’

Yola spat on the ground, then teased the spittle with the point of her shoe. ‘I didn’t say anything to him. I haven’t spoken to him. Except to trade insults.’

‘Well, I don’t understand…’

‘You don’t understand anything, do you?’

‘Well, no. I suppose I don’t.’

‘Alexi.’

Alexi glanced up hopefully when he heard Yola addressing him. It was obvious that he was fighting a losing battle with whatever it was that was eating away at him.

‘I’m sorry.’

‘Sorry for letting Gavril take out your eyes?’

‘No. Sorry for telling Bazena about what happened to your balls. I thought it was funny. I shouldn’t have told her. She is hot for Gavril. He must have made her tell him. It was wrong of me not to think how it might harm you.’

‘You told Bazena?’

‘Yes.’

‘And you didn’t speak to Gavril?’

‘No.’

Alexi swore under his breath. ‘I’m sorry I questioned your lacha .’

‘You didn’t. Damo couldn’t understand what you were saying. So there was no questioning.’

Sabir squinted at her. ‘Who the heck’s Damo?’

‘You are.’

‘I’m Damo?’

‘That’s your gypsy name.’

‘Would you mind explaining that? I haven’t been renamed since my last baptism.’

‘It’s the gypsy word for Adam. We are all descended from him.’

‘So’s just about everybody, I guess.’ Sabir pretended to weigh up his new name. Secretly, he was delighted at the change in tone of the conversation. ‘What’s your word for Eve?’

‘Yehwah. But she’s not our mother.’

‘Oh.’

‘Our mother was Adam’s first wife.’

‘You mean Lilith? The witch who preyed on women and children? The woman who became the serpent?’

‘Yes. She is our mother. Her vagina was a scorpion. Her head was that of a lioness. At her breasts she suckled a pig and a dog. And she rode on a donkey.’ She half turned, measuring Alexi’s response to her words. ‘Her daughter, Alu, was originally a man but he changed into a woman – it is from her that some gypsies have the second sight. Through her line, Lemec, the son of Cain, had a son by his wife Hada. This was Jabal, father of all those who live in a tent and are nomadic. We are also related to Jubal, father of all musicians, for Tsilla, Jubal’s son, became the second wife of Lemec.’

Sabir was about to say something – to make some pungent comment about the infuriating way gypsies played around with logic – but then he noticed Alexi’s face and it suddenly dawned on him why Yola had started on her discourse in the first place. She had been way ahead of him.

Alexi was transfixed by her story. All anger had clearly left him. His eyes were dreamy, as if he had just received a massage with a swansdown glove.

Perhaps, thought Sabir, it was all true and Yola really was a witch after all?