THE CUP BEARER

By DJ

CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

From chapter forty-four

Friday 15th November, 1995

Gypsy dreamed during the flight to Madrid, of an old woman sleeping peacefully with a smile on her face. When he woke up, he knew why Manuel had chosen this week to cancel a business appointment in Manchester, feeling he should go home, but Gypsy didn’t tell him what he knew; that inside an old wagon, a few miles outside Madrid, Old Aida opened her tired eyes and gazed at the faces of her family gathered round her bed. The grey haired man at her side felt her hand tighten within his own as Aida summoned the strength to say, “He’s coming, the one I have been waiting for. I said I would live to see him and not one of you believed me.” She smiled softly and closed her eyes, and whispered almost to herself. “I knew he would come."

*  *  *

Now read on

Not long after their arrival at their hotel in Madrid, Manuel hired a Landover for the journey to the camp, but before they set off he said to Gypsy, “It has been a long time since I saw my family. I can’t guarantee we’ll be warmly welcomed. Once a Gitano leaves his tribe, and lives among the Gorgios, his tribe considers him to be a Gorgio also. They don’t have the same trust in him again.”

Gypsy covered his father’s hand where it rested on the steering wheel. “Don’t worry, Dad, Your Grandmother will see you’re made welcome.”

Manuel shot him a surprised look. “How do you know that?”

“Months ago, I would have put it down to my psychic mind, but these days it feels more like God is talking to me. He spoke to me in my dream and let me see Aida. She’s dying, Dad, and she wants to see us before she goes."

Suddenly Manuel’s eyes were moist and he stared out of the windscreen. “My Grandmother was the first one to speak to me about Jesus. She told me she was saved and I wanted to know what it was like. Most Gitanos follow the Catholic faith in their own erratic sort of way. When they’re near a church and the priest makes an effort to minister to them, they make the effort to go to church in return, although the congregations don’t always like it. A lot of the gypsies in Spain are classed as thieves and layabouts, up to no good, and certainly not the romantic people portrayed ‘a la Hollywood’. There has been a move during the last few years to try and house them and care for some of them. They thanked the do-gooders by ripping out anything saleable including the toilets and cookers, and selling them for what they could get. I was my mother’s youngest child and her favourite. She didn’t want that life for me. When she heard about the offer of free tuition Maestro Claude made, she urged me to go to Madrid. It was her dying wish and my father could hardly refuse her.”

“Well, don’t worry, Dad. It’s going to be all right. And don’t you agree we ought to drop the English while we’re here in Spain?”

“Point taken,” his father laughed, and switched to his native tongue. “I’ve got so used to speaking English in so many countries; I sometimes forget I am Spanish. But how will you get on? You speak it differently to us.”

“I’m talking okay now, aren’t I? I’ll let you into a secret; I’m teaching the kids at home to speak like you, seeing as they regard you as their dad now, except Jose of course.”

Manuel looked at Gypsy in surprise. “Did they tell you this?”

“They didn’t have to. Since you’ve been with us, the Gomez family have learned what having a real father means. I don’t think you’ll win Jose over into your corner of the ring, but I think if you asked them, the others would be happy if you offered to adopt them. They’re in limbo, Dad. I was the one who had no dad and had to prove myself as a brother. Now their mother’s dead and their dad is missing and due for a long spell in prison if he’s caught. As I see it, the roles have been reversed, but while they couldn’t understand how I felt about things, I can understand how they’re feeling now. I’ve been thinking about this for some time. They need a father they can rely on and look up to. Legal fostering, leading to adoption in the future, would be wonderful for them. It would also relieve Perquita of some of the work load.” Gypsy gave his father a wicked grin. “Barry and Perquita can’t keep their eyes off each other, can they? I’m glad we invited his kids to visit.”

Manuel studied Gypsy carefully. “You seem to have everything well thought out these days, but if they do get married, won’t they want to move to their own place?”

“Well, if they don’t, there’s plenty of room at Visick Street for all of us. I’d rather Barry stayed close.”

“You suspect something, what is it?”

“I don’t know. Rudkin came to see Barry the other day? I think Rudkin’s got wind of something and Barry won’t say what it is. I just have a feeling that something’s going to happen. I also have a feeling Jose is going to prove a problem. I’ll be glad Barry’s around to keep an eye on him.”

They drove into the mountains, and arrived at the camp as dusk was about to fall. The camp consisted of three old but brightly painted wagons parked outside the entrances of two large caves, and a collection of tents and ramshackle lean-tos. Manuel wisely parked the Landover away from the improvised corral holding several horses. Most of the gypsies were standing in front of the wagon Gypsy had seen in his dream, watching it in silence. A few of them looked towards the strange vehicle and one of them went up the wagon steps and knocked on the door. A grey haired man came out and looked to where the other gypsy was pointing. Shading his eyes, he watched Gypsy and Manuel climb out of the Landover and walk towards the wagon. More people turned to watch them and the old man came down the steps and pushed his way through the crowd. As he came towards them his eyes flicked from one to the other, then he stopped as few feet away from them and stared with widening eyes.

Gypsy and his father had discussed the idea that they should look as much like each other as possible. Gypsy’s hair was back to its normal curls and length now, and both he and his father wore identical jeans, white shirts, and black waistcoats left unbuttoned in the way of gypsies. They stood side by side and let the old man take in the uncanny similarity, before Manuel said quietly, “Hello, Papa. I’ve brought my son to meet you. His name is Gypsy Diaz, named in your honour.”

Gypsy said, “Hello, Grandpapa,” and waited for Juan Diaz to make the next move. Manuel had explained that his father would either turn his back on them, and walk back to his people, indicating he did not acknowledge them as kin, or he would show some sign of acceptance. They waited while he examined them closely. Gypsy looked like the Manuel who had left the camp sixteen years ago; how could he not know who they were?

Slowly he walked towards them and stopped in front of Manuel. “It has been a long time since you left us, Manuel. I acknowledge you for the sake of your grandmother. She has been hanging onto life because of your son.” He looked Gypsy up and down. “So you are the one whose birth my mother saw, the day my wife died?” He lifted a callused hand to follow the scar on Gypsy's left cheek. “Someone did not like your face, eh?” Gypsy said nothing and let his eyes show his defiance. Juan jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “She’s waiting for you in the wagon. Go to her while I talk to Manuel.”

Gypsy hesitated, not wanting to do this on his own. His father gave him a reassuring pat on the back, which changed to a gentle push. “Go ahead, Gypsy, I’ll join you in a moment.”

Gypsy looked towards the wagon and the crowd in front of it. How could he just walk through that lot? He started towards them and slowly they parted to let him through. Then he was up the steps and walking into the dimness of the wagon interior lit only by a single oil lamp. At first he could hardly see anything; then, as his eyes got used to the dark he made out a bed on which the old lady of his dream lay. Moving to the bed he looked down at her and saw her watery, worn out eyes flicker open. The wizened face broke into a smile and the blue lips moved against toothless gums, but the words she spoke were clear and low. “Welcome, Ganymede.” Shocked at her use of that hated name, Gypsy was in two minds whether to run from the wagon, but she said, “Ah! That name does mean something! It is the only name I know you by. I knew you before you were born and witnessed your birth. I told your grandfather about you, that I would see your face before I died. Perhaps people will not dismiss the cackling of an old woman from now on. What is your name?”

“It’s Gypsy.”

The old lady sighed and closed her eyes, satisfied about something. “I don’t think that was the name you were given at your birth, but it is a good name. That is what you are, and I feel that it is to be a great name in the future. Is Manuel with you?”

“Yes. He’s talking with his father.”

Aida smiled and held out a gnarled hand. He took it and she pulled him closer till he had to sit on the edge of the bed and lean over her. In a harsh whisper, she asked, “Do you believe?”

“I don’t know,” Gypsy he saw her eyes become troubled; then he remembered Elijah’s words and realised, yes he did. “I think so.”

“Then you will understand that what I tell you was not given to me from any other but God himself. I was given a warning for you, and I have waited all this time to give it to you. Listen carefully, Gypsy. We Gitanos believe that when someone in the family dies another will be conceived to take their place. When were you born?”

“The twelfth of November, nineteen seventy-nine.” Gypsy said in wonder.

“You were conceived in the February, the day your grandmother died. The circle of the Scorpion is never broken.”

“I don’t believe in astrology.” Gypsy prayed he wouldn’t upset the old woman.

“Neither do I now,” Aida said with a tired smile. “I just knew that when my daughter in law died another would be born with a sting in his tail. Child, you have your grandmother’s eyes and I see you have her gifts and the power to see what others do not. This is not Satan’s work but a gift from God. Your grandmother was the one who first spoke of Jesus. It was from her own lips that I first knew about our Friend and Saviour. You are a chosen one, Gypsy, and you have a divine gift. You must use it to discern what is from God and what is not. In the words of Joel, ‘In the last days, God says, I will pour out my spirit on all people. Your sons and daughters will prophesy; your young men will see visions; your old men will dream dreams. I will pour out My Spirit in those days and they will prophesy.’ You will not have received the Holy Spirit yet, but watch for it. It will come. The praying in tongues is often the first outward sign, child, but you will know, deep within you, and it will happen soon. Have you repented and been baptised?”

“No, not yet.”

“One day soon you will, and God’s grace will always be with you. I can’t talk any more, I am feeling tired now.”

“I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to exhaust you.”

Aida shook her head. “You have made an old woman very happy today. Look in the drawer, there, by the bed. There’s a trinket box in it. Take it; it belongs to you now. I have done what I promised my Lord I would do.”

“But, what about the message?” Gypsy prompted her. “What was it?”

Aida shook her head again and her words were almost too faint to hear. “It is written….”

Disappointed and almost in tears, Gypsy opened the drawer and saw a box no more than three inches square. He took it out and opened the lid. In it lay a medallion and a folded piece of paper. Before he could examine them, Aida whispered, “Manuel.” Her face had turned grey and her hand was cold as it touched Gypsy’s, and he realised she only had a few moments to live. Diving to the wagon door he stood on the top steps and looked among the crowd for his father. Manuel was there, at the bottom of the steps with his own father. Gypsy only had to look at them to convey the news. They came up the steps and moved past Gypsy, into the wagon. The crowd stared up at Gypsy and he realised he was still clutching the trinket box. A few of the people went down on their knees and bowed their heads. Others followed their example and Gypsy felt he should do the same but his father came out and taking hold of his arm led him into the back of the darkened wagon which was full of flickering light. Seating him on the bed beside Manuel, his grandfather took their hands and placed them in Aida’s.

The old gypsy opened her eyes just a fraction to gaze up at them, and a look of peace filled her face. She moved her hands and they released them, and she raised them to place them against their cheeks and mouthed something Gypsy could not hear, but Gypsy knew she was blessing them and praying for them. A minute later, her hands dropped to the bed and Old Aida breathed her last. At the moment of death, Gypsy clutched her hands in his own and he felt a strange force surging through him. Something had entered him and was chasing round his body like an electric current. He was on fire from head to toe, {{{and he was transported to another place where there was blackness all around him. He was being held in the palm of a huge hand. He looked down and saw a blue planet rolling slowly below him. “Look at my creation,” a deep voice said. It was in his ear but it seemed the sound was all around him, in the blackness. “Is it not beautiful? I created it and all that is in it.”

With a start, Gypsy realised he was looking at the earth far below, and the voice spoke at length to him, telling him of all that had happened, all that was happening and all that was to happen.

“Wow!” Gypsy he gazed on awe at his home planet. “But why tell me? I mean, I’m only a baby yet. I’m not even a Christian.”

“I know, my child, but I want you to go back down there and tell as many people as possible before it is too late. Will you do that for me?”

“Okay, “Gypsy replied. “But who do I start with?”}}}

“You already know, and you will know them when you speak to them. Heed the message in the box. You have a task to perform in My Name, but the time is not yet for this to happen. Prepare yourself, and prepare your road, and I will cause you to talk with many including those who hurt you. I love them as much as I love you, they are My children and if the worst sinner believes in My Son, and bows the knee to Him, I will in no way refuse him.”

“But, I can’t do this, not on my own, I’m just a kid.”

“So are all my people if they but knew it, but fear not, My child. If you rise on the wings of the dawn, if you settle on the far side of the sea, even there My hand will guide you. My right hand will hold you fast and I will be with you always. I will never leave you on your own. You have within you the power of the Holy Spirit, and the gift of discernment. You have already used this gift to recognise evil, although you may not have known it for what it was. Also, in the past, you had the ability to predict future events. From now on you will see visions that only I allow you to see.”

{{{“Okay,” Gypsy said, as he calmed down. “I’ll do it.” and he remembered nothing more.}}} When he opened his eyes again, he was lying down and looking up at his father who held him in his arms. He was no longer in the wagon but in a dark place full of flickering light and shadows, and the smell of damp earth; other faces were above him, talking in whispers.

Deep in his father’s cave, Manuel watched Gypsy’s eyes flicker open and he breathed a prayer of thanks. Gypsy had been unconscious for more than half an hour and Manuel was justifiably worried, even though his son’s face showed he was at peace. Towards the end he had watched a soft smile appear on Gypsy’s face.

“He’s coming round,” Juan said to those gathered around them. Addressing Manuel, he said, “Think back to your young days, Manuel, when your mother and your grandmother used to fall down like this. They called it ‘going down under the power of the Spirit’. They came to no harm. My grandson will do the same.” Those simple words meant a lot to Manuel as it indicated that he and Gypsy had been accepted. Juan Diaz was the chief of this camp, now Aida was dead. If he accepted them, so would the rest of his people, for which Manuel was truly grateful. Sixteen years was a long time to be away from one’s family whatever the circumstances.

Gypsy took a deep breath and tried to sit up. Manuel helped him and still held him close. When he was satisfied Gypsy was fully awake, he and Juan helped him to his feet, but his legs refused to work. His eyes were wide and unseeing, and he seemed not to know where he was. They helped him out of the cave, followed by the rest of Juan’s large family. Stopping at the sight of Aida’s wagon, he stared at it. “Is she still there?”

“No,” Manuel said. “We are about to burn it.”

“Burn it? Why?”

“It is the old way of the Gitanos,” Juan explained. “No one lives in a wagon where someone as old and revered as our queen has died, so we bury our queen and we burn her wagon.”

“May I see her just one more time?” His grandfather nodded and put an arm round his waist to help him walk the short distance to a lonely copse of trees near the caves. Aida’s body lay on a pallet beside a hastily dug grave. She looked so tranquil, her white hair brushed and a single flower in her hands, the rest of her body already covered in her funeral shroud. Thinking back to his own mother’s funeral, Gypsy knelt beside the body, kissed the cold forehead and, closing his eyes, he did what he was unable to do at his mother’s grave. He said, “Dear Lord, thank you for letting me know her, if only for a few minutes. I know that, through Aida your servant, I have received such an awesome burden. Dear Jesus, I know Aida is in your Loving Arms now. Please make me worthy of You, and worthy of Aida and my mother, so that I may be with them when it is my time to die, through the Grace of God our Father. I pray this in your Holy Name. Amen.”

It wasn’t till he stood again that he realised that Juan and Manuel, and all the other relatives, had heard his prayer. He expected Juan to offer his own prayer but the old man nodded to some of the men. They laid Aida in her grave and buried her. Gypsy couldn’t gaze upon the sight any longer and turned to his father for comfort, but it was his grandfather who stepped forward to embrace him and hold him tight. Then it was Manuel’s turn to offer comfort to both Gypsy and Juan, and all three stood with their arms round each other while the decorating of the grave was completed in Romany fashion with brightly painted shells and stones. Gypsy still couldn’t get out of his mind the awesome experience he had just gone through. Would anyone believe he had actually talked to God? Or had he dreamed it?

Before they left the grave, Juan handed Gypsy the trinket box, which he had kept safe in his jacket pocket after Gypsy had fainted. “This is what you came for. My mother said you would know the importance of it.” But before Gypsy could examine the contents of the box, Juan drew him towards his sombre faced family and introduced Gypsy to his aunts, uncles and many cousins. The others would make their acquaintance the next day. The introductions over, the whole camp formed a circle round Aida’s home. A flaming brand was brought from the one of the cooking fires. Juan took it and handed it to Gypsy who walked forward with him. Juan indicated where he should place the brand, at the base of the door, under both sides and against the back of the wagon. Juan pulled him away to safety as flames began to envelop the tinder dry wagon. Someone in the watching crowd started to sing an old gypsy song, full of emotion and telling of a gypsy queen’s long life. Soon everyone was singing and, although Gypsy knew exactly where his great grandmother had already gone, he was moved to listen to the song of mourning. He looked at his father and saw the look of compassion on his face for these people who did not understand as he and Gypsy did. Gypsy looked round at the singing crowd and knew where he would begin his ministry.

Later, using the light of Juan’s campfire, Gypsy drew Aida’s box out of his jeans pocket and opened it. First he took out the medallion and examined it. It was made of solid gold, roughly four centimetres in diameter on a fine gold chain. The face was engraved with a simple cross, surmounted by a crown. On the relief side was engraved some writing so fine he could hardly make it out, and he had to turn the medallion back and forth for the engraving to catch the firelight.

“ For He has rescued us from the dominion of darkness and brought us into the kingdom of the Son He loves, in whom we have redemption, and the forgiveness of sins.” Underneath this he read yet another scripture. “If I rise on the wings of the dawn, if I settle on the far side of the sea, even there Your hand will guide me. Your righteous right hand will hold me fast.”

Putting the medallion back in the box he unfolded the paper and saw it was covered on both sides with close writing, with no room for margins. He smoothed the paper out on his knee and after finding the start of the missive, he began to read it, slowly realising that this was the message Aida wanted him to receive from God.

“My dear child, this is what The Lord told me to tell you. He says, “I see thorns around you and more to come. I will give you a jewel, which others would wish to take from you. Another, born in your time, but with a blackened heart, and whom you already know, is keeping watch even now and searches for you. One day, when your eyes are shut to the world, he will strike. But fear not, I will uphold you. One who helps him is also someone you already know. He is Satan’s messenger and unbeknown to you has already betrayed you, and will betray you again, once in the presence of others and once when you are alone. Beware of the hidden eye of evil, which has the power to make time stand still. Your second betrayer has already used this against you and others like you. And will do so again in the future. You were not his first victim nor will you be the last. There is a third accomplice known to you, one of eight. He wears the sign of the snake around his neck. Fighting against all these evil people will take courage such as you have never dreamed of, and at times you will want to surrender to their will. If you do, you will lose the jewel so dear to your heart for which you would give your own life. Learn to draw on My Power and I will hold you up before all as my chosen one. You have someone with the sun as his crown, who will go away from you, but in your time of trouble he will return and will be a strength and a support. One with hair the colour of my Holy Flame will treasure your jewel as though it were her own. For that you will reward her in kind. But this is in the future and you will have time to prepare yourself before these things come to pass.

“There is one more person you must beware of - one who believes you have something which should be his. He would see you fall, and will conspire with your enemies to this end. Remember My Words,My child, and take care to be faithful to Me. Your vigil against the evil ones must be constant. Just as I suffered at the hands of My own enemies for the salvation of mankind, so you must suffer at the hands of these evil people for the sake of children like you. Only then will the evil ones be revealed to the world and dealt with by both the Law of the Land and by My righteous right hand. I love them even as I love you, and they have the right to hear My Word, even from your own lips. Speak to them about me, and do not let anyone distract you from your task and you will sit where two others rule, in command of your own success, but only if you keep your head and obey Me. You made my servant, Aida, very happy today and, because of her, I will bless you and grant you future happiness in abundance. Be faithful to Me, my child, and I will be faithful to you.” This is what the Lord told me to tell you. I have written it down in case I died before I saw you.

Turning the paper over, Gypsy found that the rest of the letter was a personal message from Aida herself. “These are my own words to you my precious child. The Lord will test you, as he tested me many times, while you grow in your spiritual life, and it will be hard for you. I have been told to tell you things that you will not believe, but this revelation comes from our Father God, and no one else. Now I will tell you something about yourself you may not be aware of. Hidden inside you are mysteries many Christians yearn to know, untapped and burning like an unquenchable fire which only our Father God can unleash, for they are His to command. It is time you knew what you are, what you have been and what you will be, through your own faith in God. You have lived in a world of grey shadows with bitter memories locked inside you for years, eating away at you. God gives us the choice to do things our own way and fail, or give all to God and let him direct us along the right path. Only by making the right choice will the world be yours, my child. Only then will you achieve your desires, and they will come upon you as God’s blessing. If you don’t, you will become hardened by all that has happened to you. I know the pain you have suffered. I have felt it myself, and I have prayed for you ever since I knew you. Predicting the future is against God’s wishes for us, but it is uncanny how a man’s character matches the stars. You have the gentle nature of the crab and the moods of a moonchild to temper your dark feelings. You have mirth that giggles and bubbles within you, but you are easily hurt. When this happens you become the crab, and you creep into your protective shell; or you become the scorpion, stinging your enemies in your quest for vengeance but in so doing you sting yourself. You are capable of feeling joy one minute and extreme anger and pain the next but you must release all your bitter memories, and let forgiveness take their place, for vengeance belongs only to the Lord. Better for you to break free and become the eagle, rising above all adversity. Goodbye, my darling great grandson. Be faithful. Aida Diaz Lupino”

 As he refolded the paper, Gypsy had a sense of great loss, and sat staring into the campfire, fighting to keep back hot tears. Over the last few months he had shed many tears after thinking strong people didn’t cry, especially him. He didn’t know why he cried so easily these days. It was so childish.

Manuel went looking for Gypsy and found him seated on a boulder with the much-handled piece of paper in his hands. He sat staring into the fire, a troubled expression on his face. “Gypsy?” The boy looked up, startled out of his thoughts at Manuel's voice. “You seem troubled about all this. Is there anything I can help you with?”

“I need to talk, Dad,” Gypsy whispered shakily. Once Manuel was seated beside him, he said, “I don’t know if you’ll believe this but, at the moment of Aida’s passing I was baptised with the Holy Spirit. I felt it. It was like an electric shock. Do you believe me?”

Manuel gazed at him with growing awareness. “I think I do, but what happened when you fainted?”

“God lifted me off the earth and held me in the darkness,” Gypsy’s voice was full of wonder, “and we talked.”

“About what?”

“Things that happened in the past, things that are happening now; and what will happen in the future and why. There were so many details, too many to remember except for one thing. He said there will be wars and rumours of wars, and many disasters, but these must come to pass before the victory of His Son on earth.”

Manuel shook his head. “That is nothing new; the Bible has those words in it. Are you sure you weren’t having a dream?”

“It wasn’t a dream. He also told me He was going to use me, that I had been chosen to take the gospel to the many people I knew. I think he was talking about those who’ve hurt me in the past. He said my suffering wasn’t over yet.” Rising to his feet, he handed the paper to Manuel and let him read it while he paced restlessly, his face full of despair.

At that moment, Juan came up to them and Manuel passed the paper to him to read. His father’s face slowly filled with a look of scorn on his face. “Aida was always scribbling. I wondered what she was writing but she wouldn’t say.” He took it to the fire to read it.

Gypsy didn’t notice; he was so wrapped up in his own heartache. “Haven’t I suffered enough? I don’t think I could bear it again.” Then he looked round, startled. “Did you hear that?”

“Hear what?” Manuel asked.

“The voice, telling me not to worry.” Slowly he fell to his knees and bowed his head to the ground. “Please, Lord, I don’t want this.”

Juan came back with the paper and dropped it into Manuel’s hands. He nodded that he understood a lot more now, about Aida, and about Gypsy, then walked away to give them some privacy.

Kneeling beside his son, Manuel said quietly, “Listen to me, Gypsy, there was a time when Jesus did not want the burden His Father in Heaven placed upon him. He begged to be released from it, saying, ‘if it be possible, let this cup pass from me; nevertheless not as I will but as thou will.’ He knew He was the only one innocent enough to be the living sacrifice for all sin. God won’t let you suffer alone, and I’ll be with you every step of the way as well. We will do this together. Shall we pray now?  ‘Father God, we thank you for accepting us as your children, and we praise Your Holy Name. Let Your Will be our will. Help us to trust you in everything, especially this new burden You have placed on Gypsy’s shoulders. At a time when he’s desperately trying to be a child again, You are asking him to be an adult for Your sake. Dear Lord, I pray that you will let me share this burden, and that You will carry us when we stumble. We pray this in Jesu’s Name, Amen.” When at last Gypsy raised his head, Manuel asked, “Are you feeling better now?”

“Yes, Dad,” was the weak reply.

“Good! Then I suggest we go and sample my sister, Charlotta’s cooking. Do you realise we haven’t eaten since breakfast.”

“I’m not hungry,” Gypsy sat up and held out his hand for the paper.

“Now you know what the doctor said about missing meals,” Manuel cautioned him. "And you haven’t taken a blood test either, have you?” Gypsy shook his head and Manuel added, “Go and do it now, and meet me at Juan’s camp fire.”

Gypsy got reluctantly to his feet and walked slowly toward the tent Juan had set up for them close to his own cave. “Dear Lord,’ Manuel prayed, “if he has to suffer, so be it. You know what You’re doing, even if we don’t. Gypsy needs to be reassured, and my own father needs to believe that all is well. Please, Lord, let my son be unburdened, just for these next few hours.” An idea came to him, and he knew God had answered him. Walking to his father campfire where he found his father eating his supper. Manuel told him of his idea and Juan agreed it would be good for everyone and not just for Gypsy.

After supper, having seen that Gypsy ate something, Juan called the camp together round his own campfire and several guitars were produced. At first Gypsy just sat and listened to Manuel and his family play and sing songs from Manuel’s younger days. The younger members of the group got up to dance and urged Gypsy to join them, pulling him to his feet and pushing him into the ring of dancing people. At first his face was set like stone and Manuel wondered if his idea would work, then, as Gypsy learned the steps and the songs he slowly came out of his shell. To Manuel’s surprise, Gypsy asked him to accompany him by playing ‘The Bolero’, and showed off his dancing talents to the full. Later, two of Manuel’s brothers took him on one side and pulled his beloved ‘Bolero’ routine to pieces. He looked quite dismayed till they gave him a quick lesson on how to dance it as a Gitano would. They also invited him to join them in their impromptu ensemble and were suitably impressed with his prowess on the guitar, which had him smiling all the way to his bed. That night, Manuel went to sleep feeling pleased that his idea had worked, that Gypsy could never resist pleasing an audience. “Thank you God.”

The following morning, as a parting gift Juan gave them a black soft brimmed hat each, similar to the ones most of the men of the camp wore; a sign that they were fully accepted as members of Juan's clan and welcome back any time. On the plane home, Gypsy thought about Aida and wished she had had time to help him decipher her message and the one from above. He was on his own now and he felt chilled at the thought of what the future might hold.

To be continued