Chapter 1 Carnival (rewritten)

Sirona and Jamie have gone to Brazil during Carnival to visit her relatives, & visit Arabian horse breeders.

Chapter 1 Carnival

There are so few things that happen usually once in one’s lifetime, like being born and dying, so I firmly feel that dying pleasurably would be a nice way to make up for all the crap which begins with exiting the nice cozy womb.

 

******************************************************************************

 

The samba music of the Banda do Leme bumped and throbbed as the fantasia and nearly nude dancers jump, twirl and laugh as they collide with one another.  I barely stifled a scream as peacock feather clad dancers grabbed my arms and whipped me into the middle of the insanely jumping, gyrating throng of colorful humanity.  My abductor hollered “Mulher bonita, isso é carnaval! Você deve ter o divertimento. Dança do Samba com a gente! "

 

I shouted back “Nao falo portugues,” rather than try to piece together what he might have said with my half-forgotten Portuguese over the din of the music.

 

His black eyes flashed merrily as he bent his handsome face towards my ear and yelled, “Boa noite.   Voce fala ingles?”  I nodded my head.  Whoa, I thought as I reeled backwards from the alcoholic fumes spewing from his otherwise delectable mouth, “Pretty lady, this is Carnaval!  You must have fun. Dance the Samba with us!”

 

“Let me go!”  I screamed as I yanked my arm from his firm grasp.  My eyes darted all around trying to find a way out of this constantly changing maze of skin.  Seeing an opening to my right, I slid in the fleeting opening between dancers.  Finally making it to the front of the Florentina cafe, I blew out a huge sigh, I am glad to be out of that crowd! 

 

I marveled at the transformation that the street has undergone from our arrival this morning.  It is as if a slumbering beast has woken up at a time I would normally be getting ready for bed. The streets and alleys have become the arteries and capillaries of the beast, and the enormous mass of humanity is becoming the blood.  Even though I have been to Brazil so many times I’ve lost count, it never has been during Carnival.  When I was a child, my mother carefully avoided this chaotic festival time for visits to my maternal grandparents.  I have always enjoyed the two week long stays at Nana Maria’s fazenda just outside the beautiful city and port of Vitoria do Espiritu Santo.  Even though I’ve never missed Nana since her death a decade ago, I do miss Brazil.  The country is like a long ago childhood friend I’ve finally sought out for a visit.

 

I grasped a post of the canopy of the cantina to prevent being swept away by the throng of dancers in the street; I turned to scan the crowd in the cafe.  Studying each male face, I searched for a flicker of recognition.  Ah, there he is! I stood holding onto the post as if it were a lifeline.  I watched him, and the several women who flit around this handsome man as bees would buzz around a nectar filled flower. The man paid bare attention to these women and does not allow any to sit at the table set for four. A couple of men tried to gain an audience with the black haired man; with annoyance, he waved all of them off.

 

Watching him again as I had as a child, a slow smile evolved into a hundred-watt grin and I chuckled to myself.  He hasn’t changed a bit!  Letting go of the post, I wove my way toward this Adonis.  I kept my head down and my long hair floated about me like a golden screen, I stepped directly in front of the table, and say in a little girls voice, “Faz favor, tell me the tale of Ilha Grande?”

 

The man shot out of his seat as if he were a cannon ball being fired directly at me. His six foot four inch frame unfolded and is around the table so quickly that a hush fell over the other patrons of the cafe. I gasped as this big man’s arms pinned my arms to my sides and he lifted me right off the floor.  I squealed as he hoisted me up over his shoulder.  From my upside down perspective, I saw a set of well muscled blue jean clad legs come rushing in from the street.  Shod in well worn cowboy boots, the legs blasted a way between tables and people to reach me. My sandy haired, would be savior started shouting at my captor, “Put her down! Or you will regret it”.  At this outburst I can no longer contain my laughter and it over flowed to the point of tears running down my cheeks.  The big man bounced and twirled me a couple of times more on his shoulder as if I weighed no more than a five-pound sack of potatoes.  He gave my bottom a pat and unceremoniously plopped me in one of the chairs at his table. He put his grinning face down and gave me a big smacking kiss on the lips!

 

Still laughing, I quickly grabbed my dumbfounded would be knight’s hand, and pulled him into an adjacent chair.  “For God sake, Jamie quit!  He wasn’t trying to hurt me!”  I grabbed a napkin from the table to wipe my eyes as the larger man resettled himself, and flagged down a waiter and rapid fired off an order.  Taking a big breath and blowing it out to rid myself of the giggles, I said, “I guess I need to make introductions.  Jamie, this is one of my Brazilian cousins, Rodrique Santos.  Rodrique, this is Jamie Revere.  Jamie is also in the horse business.”

 

Jamie visibly relaxed. He thrusted his muscular work hardened hand toward Rodrique and said in a mid-western drawl, “Sorry about the yelling. Nice to meet you.  Sirona has told me a lot about you.” 

 

I turned to Jamie and said, “Rodrique is the social conscience of the Brazilian branch of my family.  He works with the poor in the favelas.”

 

“Favelas?”  Jamie queried.

 

“Like barrios, ghettos or slums.” Rodrique replied

 

I asked, “How are Aunt Iola and the rest of the family?”

 

“As well as can be expected in these times,” Rodrigue asked in his educated but accented English, “What has brought you to here to Brazil?”

 

I replied, “I’ve to go to Navarre’s fazenda and baby sit a mare back to Michigan.”

 

Rodrique’s brow furrowed in puzzlement, “Why did they send you and not just one of their grooms?  I don’t mean to offend, and am glad you are here, but you are their trainer, yes?”

 

“Yes, but I’ve tons of vacation time due to me and wanted to come.  It’s been way to long since I’ve seen you.”  I stopped, sipped the drink and sniffed with approval the food the waiter sat down. 

 

“Well, I am pleased to see you cousin.  Will you have time to come out to the fazenda?”

 

“Unfortunately, no.  My boss wants reliable care for this mare.  She’s extremely valuable, and Anzeh’s want me to travel with her.  They’ve a lot of money and hopes wrapped in her.”

 

Jamie added, “She is one of the most beautiful mares I’ve ever seen, but Sirona and I differ in her true value.... At least right now.”

 

Rodrique cocked a dark brow towards me. 

 

“Dulcinea came here three months ago for breeding.  This is her first foal.  She’s Reserve National Champion halter mare.  Now, she’s ready to go home.” I told him

 

Jamie jumped in, “Of course we won’t know until next spring what the quality of the foal she’s carrying, and another 3 years to see how it does under saddle.”

 

I looked Roddy in the eye and asked, “Roddy, do you have amnesia?” I teased with a shake of my head.

 

“”Uh, no.  Why do you ask?”

 

“Damn it, Roddy you know the horse business even if you aren’t directly involved any more.”

 

“Hah,’ He chuckled.  “I just want to size up your friend here.  Is he one who can disagree and hold his own against our indomitable spirited Sirona!” Rodrique reached over and playfully man punched Jamie on the shoulder.  “You will need to stay on your toes if you are around her!  She inherited Nana Maria’s spirit.”

 

I seethed, comparing me to that….that… God there wasn’t a name for the creature that was my so called Grandmother!  Grrrr.  I glowered at Rodrique as I felt the rage starting to boil within me. I unhooked my heel from the chair and gave a lightning swift kick in the general vicinity of Rodrique’s legs under the table.

 

“Damn!” He yelped and nearly overturned the table as he bent down to grab his leg.  “Are you trying to break my leg again?”

 

Jamie cocked his head to the side and asks “Again?”

 

“Big baby, I barely tapped your leg!  Roddy, don’t you ever compare me again to that mean old witch.”  I grabbed thick handfuls of my hair and pulled it out wildly about my head.  I narrowed my eyes to cat like slits, scrunched up my nose and twisted my lips into a very credible sneer. I tried my best to make my features appear as a horrific witch. In a rough old crones voice I said “I know she was my grandmother, but there was nothing warm, fuzzy or grandmotherly about her.”

 

At my pantomime both Jamie and Rodrique busted out laughing.

 

“I see dear cousin that you have not lost your talent for entertainment or theatrics.  I think with your beauty and talent you should have studied theater and gone to Hollywood.  You would be as rich and famous as Julia Roberts by now!”

 

“Oh, Roddy,” I sighed in exasperation, “I did take a few classes in theater. I even was lead Moo U’s production of Westside Story.”

 

Both men sat back and looked at me quizzically.  Jamie asked, “Wow, why didn’t you tell me that?”

 

“Because it’s not a big deal.”  I shrugged.

 

“Not a big deal? Lead in a play like that at a BIG Ten university!  Sorry, that is a big deal unless your reviews were bad.”  His voice slowed and dropped in timbre.

 

I felt the back of my shoulders and neck tightening, so I rotated my head and neck to try to relieve the tension before I answered. “No, the reviews were actually quite good for me and for the whole play.”

 

“Whoa!”  Rodrique reached a well-manicured hand out to cover my balled up fist.  “Sirona, what is the matter?  Why does this subject bother you so?”

 

I gulped at my drink, thunked it down and with both hands shoved my hair away from my face.  “Rodrique, you know how mom is!”  Rodrique nodded, our mothers were sisters.  “When that review came out, it was good.  I mean really good.”  My eyes began to tear up. Angrily I wiped at my eyes.  I can’t believe how this still affected me.  “The university president was very well connected, heck he still is seeing, he left the university to work for the US President!  When the play got rave reviews he had some people come and watch it.”  I took a big breath, blew it out and started rubbing my forehead and temples.  “I had the unfortunate bad luck of some Hollywood big shots coming back stage to the dressing room right after the play, and started talking to me about an acting career.  Mom overheard the conversation.”  That quirky smile that I adored teased Jamie’s lips.  “She was sitting right there when they asked me to come do screen tests.  The next week was unbearable.  Mom had the whole rest of my life planned out.  I may have been actually been tempted to an acting career except for her!  I found it fun.”

 

“So what happened?” Jamie asked.

 

“I heard her talking to Nana the next weekend, and what she was saying just made me want to puke! She had my life planned out for ME.  I just couldn’t handle that.  After that semester, I quit taking any theater classes.” These haunting memories blurred my vision.  My shoulders sagged with the weight of hidden battles I had waged with my mother and grandmother years ago.

 

Jamie, anxious to change the subject asked, “Rodrique do I understand you correctly that Sirona broke your leg?”

 

“Yes, yes! When we were children she kicked me in the shin.  She kicks like a mule!”

 

I registered their conversation in the outer fringes of my mind.  I loved coming to Brazil to visit except having to deal with both my mother and grandmother at the same time.  That part was torture!  Nana had hated me, and I never knew why.

 

Rodrique added “Sirona broke it at Christmas time when my parents were visiting her family in Michigan.  I had the bad judgment to tease her that she couldn’t go riding one afternoon.  We were all going out to cut a Christmas tree, and she didn’t want to go. So I got a 12-year-olds booted kick and it cracked my tibia.  We didn’t know at the time that she had put a hairline fracture in the middle of my shin.  That wasn’t the worst of it though.”

 

I was lost in my own memories, so I barely registered Jamie and Rodrique’s conversation.  I found out Nana died an hour before I sat for my senior pictures.  I believed the reason pictures turned out so well was because of the relief I felt knowing I’d never ever have to see her again.  I morosely contemplated the flickering of the candle set on the table before me.  Blocking out all that was going on around me; I carefully dipped my fingers into the puddle of liquid wax.  One at a time I waited for them to cool then peeled the wax off and dropped it back into the candle’s puddle watching my waxy finger prints melt away.

 

Jamie asked Rodrique, “What happened with your leg?”

 

“I was sixteen and loved to ride. Jumping was my passion and I also loved to play soccer.  One day about a month after we came back home I got a fever, a very high one.  I ended up in hospital in isolation, as the doctors could not figure out what was wrong with me.  Finally the fever broke, but my leg hurt worse than ever.  The spot Sirona had kicked me was very tender and mushy.”

 

“That doesn’t sound good,” Jamie added.

 

“No it wasn’t.  I had osteomyelititis.  An infection had settled in that hairline crack.  If the doctors weren’t as good as they were, I could have lost my leg.  I was laid up for almost two years and no longer allowed to play soccer or ride jumpers after I was off my crutches.”

 

“Your family farm still breeds some of the finest Andalusians in the world.  You don’t have any part of that?” Jamie asked.

 

“No, My sister Clara and our Cousin Antonio run the horse part, and do it very well.  Our family always thought that Sirona would out grow her horse fascination, but it appears to have grown into a true addiction,” Rodrique chuffed.

 

I looked at these two men finally aware they were discussing me as if I were a lab specimen and decided a change of topic was in order.  “Jamie is here scouting out potential young prospects to buy.”

 

Jamie added, “When I found out Sirona was coming down here and could actually speak Portuguese, I tagged along.  I thought it would be a lot better than pantomiming”

 

I laughed and shook my head at the thought of Jamie’s skills I’d seen that afternoon at a near by farm we visited after checking into our hotel. When he tried to communicate directly to native Brazilians some of it was down right hysterical.  “Roddy, you ought to see Jamie trying to ask a groom to show him the offspring a mare had produced.”  I pushed back from the table and put my hands to my stomach, then lifted them in the universally understood gesture of a pregnant woman.  “I thought I was going to die laughing!  The groom seemed to think Jamie wanted to see his children” 

 

“Ah, that I would have liked to see!” Rodrique guffawed.

 

“Enough about horses, Roddy how is your work going?”  I shouted as a passing banda played a lively loud throbbing samba.

 

“Things just seem to keep getting worse and worse in the favelas no matter what we do.” Rodrique replied in Portuguese flavored English.  “There are men who come and hand out money, play father bountiful until they are able to recruit enough people to start up their operations.  Then they have a political base making them fairly secure against arrest.  The real problem is when the violence spills over into others territories.”

 

Jamie looked at me in confusion.  I whispered into his ear, “drugs- coke.”  His eyebrows arched then he nodded in understanding.

 

“I thought all the big dealers came out of Colombia, Nicaragua and Central America.” Jamie asked between bites of the unique Brazilian stew the waiter had brought.

 

“No, all the pressure that was put on the big cartels in the past just made them pack up and move to other areas with less pressure or abilities to police.  Unfortunately, my country’s vast wilderness, size, economic and political problems make it perfect for them to settle in the remote areas.  All of this has lead to vigilantes taking the law into their own hands.  Most people are so leery of outsiders; they tend to shoot first before asking questions”

 

“It’s just like that in the bigger cities, right?”  My hand annoyingly trembled as I raised my drink of caipirinha to my lips.

 

Rodrique looked up from his dish of feijoada to answer.  “No.  It has spread to the rural areas and even the jungle” 

 

I thought to myself while munching away on my favorite spicy food, we will have to be especially careful going to these farms to look at horses.  I really don’t want to end up and dead rotting away in the jungle!

 

Rodrique must have sensed my train of thought and exclaimed, “Enough of this!  You are in the most exciting city in the world.  No place on earth is like Rio during Carnival!”

 

“We can enjoy the festival for a few more hours, but I need to get some sleep” I interjected.  “I have an early appointment to go hang gliding in the morning.”  Wickedly grinning at Jamie I added, “I’ve been trying to convince him to go up with me, but I’m not having any luck.”

 

“Jamie, did Sirona tell you that I was the one who introduced her to hang gliding and parasailing?” Rodrique asked.

 

“No, I didn’t.”  Jamie gently reached toward my face to tuck a wayward gossamer golden strand of hair behind my ear.  “I’ve seen her sail over the dunes and Lake Michigan last summer.  Watching her is incredible!  Like seeing an angel soar.”  Jamie said with passion.

 

I blushed.  “Thanks.  Once Roddy got me up and gliding, I just couldn’t be satisfied at knowing the basics.  Then I was roped into teaching once in awhile as the horse show schedule permits.   I just wish there was more time for it and diving.”

 

Rodrique asked, “So you still find time to dive?”

 

“Yeah, I had a fantastic trip last Thanksgiving on Grand Cayman with my friend Natalie. You wouldn’t believe the diving!  I’m supposed to go back there next month with a group of divers out of the Flint dive shop.  I’m trying to convince Jaime to go along.” I laughed.  “I am trying to broaden his horizons.  That there is a life beyond horses.”

 

“I guess I am just one to keep my feet closer to terra firma.  Although she may get me to try diving, I doubt hang gliding is going to happen any time soon.” Jamie flashed grin at me,

 

Rodrique raised his glass and said, “Let us have fun tonight, and let the birds soar in the morning.”

 

Author's Note

Please, if you are going to critique this, tell me what is wrong with it or areas that need to be improved. I DO NOT need to have my ego stroked! I need to know anything that would make this BETTER! Ok, PLEASE! PLEASE! PLEASE! I'm now going to go down on my knees and beg, rip this piece apart!

Reviews

[Daiku Maryu]

"constantly changing maze of flesh"--this may just be me, but I'd use bodies instead of flesh. Flesh makes me think of meat and skin and not of dancers.

"I slid my tall slender body in the fleeting opening between dancers." --this again, is more of a personal preference, but "my tall slender body" sounds unnatural to me. Would anybody really think that while trying to get away?

"As a child, my mother carefully avoided this chaotic festival time, for our annual visits to my maternal grandparents."--this sentence sounds rather awkward. You make it sound like the mother avoided visiting Brazil during the carnival, when she was a child and I think you meant that the narrator was a child back then. And I don't like "for out annual visits...", though I admit I can't really say why. It just sounds wrong.

You really need to re-read this--there quite a lot of instances where you use present and then switch back into past tense. It's rather jarring.

"A couple of men tried to gain an audience with the black haired man who wears the Michelangelo chiseled features; with annoyance, he waved all of them off."--this is a bit odd. Audiences are generally held by kings, the pope, etc. I guess you wanted a nice way to make it clear that the man is important, but I'd still say "a couple of man tried to catch the attention of..." Next "the Michelangelo chiseled features" is unnecessary. You call him "Adonis of a men" a moment later; so the readers will know he's good-looking and the sentence will become more dynamic, if you drop the features part.

"It has been way to long since I have seen any of you, or been back here." --needs contractions. She speaking to her cousin and using informal phrases such as "way too long". "Has been" and "I have seen" look too formal here.

Reread the dialogue and add contractions to when the narrator and Jamie are speaking. Her cousin might not use them, since he's not a native speaker, but they should.

"My eyes flash from their normal sapphire blue to the deeper color of raging thunderclouds." --personal preference again, but who would think about their eyes, when they're angry. In third person, this is a good way to show the change of mood, but in first person it sounds weird.

This was good read, eventhough it wasn't fantasy, but it needs ironing out. Remember that describing protagonist, if the story is written in first person, is a difficult thing. There has to be a good reason for the descriptions to appear.

[TL Boehm]

I thought I had read and critiqued this at one point but perhaps I just read it and became distracted by someone before I submitted my review. I love the flavor of this one. I usually don't review for grammar because I know any good software program can catch stuff like that, I look for content, for something different, and this has that different quality to it. It is exotic, and I love the dialogue. Well done.

[Meradee]

I'm confused about Sirona's relationship with Jamie. They seem comfortable enough together but I just don't see how they really connect. I feel like the relationship is one-sided, but I can't be sure. Jamie talked adoringly about her, but Sirona just seemed disinterested. Is this just my imagination or is it really what you were trying to portray? I would be a little more specific with this.
Also Sirona is what twenty eight, twenty nine? Some where around there. She sounds awfully childish, I would make her sound a little more grown up, but not too much. She seems naive but I still think she wouldn't be THAT involved with theatrics.
Pepper...

[anneliese]

i would like to say that i can tell you know what your doing. it flows well and seems well researched. not exactly what i enjoy reading but definately not a waste of time. good job.

i do have to say that the first paragraph seems a bit chaotic and confusing but that seemed to be the point.
in one paragraph near the middle you kept using 'my' instead of 'me', a comment you once made on one of my writings
the point of view also changed a few times from first person to third person
your desciptions also seemed to be interesting. you mentioned Roddy's slightly accently English quite a bit after you introduced him.

it could use a bit more editing but not much

[Leah]

Well, it's primarily first-person, but there's a part when you switch into third person: Both men sat back and looked at Sirona in a new light. Jamie asked "Wow, why didn't you tell me about doing that?" "Because it wasn't a big deal." Sirona shrugged.

So that's just a typo sort of thing.

I do, however, love the flavor you get from this piece. It's like, the reader is pushed into this spicy environment whether she likes or not, which is great.

Also, I'd be careful about describing her in poetic terms- "gossamer golden strand of hair", because that's slipping toward the Mary-Sue writing habits. I know- I've done it myself :)

One more thing: you might want to condense this part into less description, more precise words. "I narrowed my eyes to cat like slits, scrunched up my nose and twisted my lips into a very credible sneer. I tried my best to make my features appear as a horrific witch. In a rough old crones voice I said..."

Instead you could say something like, "My eyes narrowed to feline slits and I contorted my face in a twisted sneer, a haggard witch's face. In a wizened crone's voice, I said..."

It just flows better.

Other than that, I love it, though!

[Blank]

Wow you know.. I thought I was going to like this.. but after reading it, I have to say its really not that good. I didn't really read it because the first.. I don't know first four lines bored me. Perhaps its not my cup of tea and as a result I didn't bother to read the whole thing.

Perhaps another rewrite is in order so you don't lose your readers in the first few minutes of read? Just giving you my opinion on the matter, form what I read, and that is all I can really give an opinion on. Nothing personal against you.. but I'm a very hard person to please when it comes to people's writings who come across as the way some of your writing does.

[Salvatore Buttaci]

I know you want constructive criticism, but I like this story just as you told it. I tell you that, not to stroke your ego, but to let you know I honestly liked it.

Sal

[Joanna Maharis]

The story so far has a very nice flow. I like the plants you put in there about the grandmother, the girl having some regrets with regard to a missed opportunity of an acting career, and her unresolved issues with it. I also like the bit about her childhood memories with her cousin Rodrique. All these details make a nice set up for the plot. Great job so far. I look forward to reading more.