The circle didn't break for them. There was a gap they walked through. All eyes were upon Joseph. They smiled at his appearance. Conversations didn't cease, so he was surrounded by reverse syllables and backward breaths.
While he held Tamara's hand, he was anchored. Unlike the lands of his lineage, there were times when the multitude of voices here took over his senses. Sensations were already so potent. That's why he was so reluctant to release Tamara's hand when reaching the center of the circle. She was shorter and smaller than he was, but the connection of her skin against his, the warmth in her grasp, he knew what the spirit realm was trying to convey.
How many times in a person's life was there a moment when a conversation was no longer forced? That two people were talking without having to think about their response to the other's statement? When words just flowed and there was no
effort, and all either party had to do was sit back and let the moment happen?
He knew it as a tingling sensation. Not like the hairs standing on the back of one's neck, but a closing off of everything else. A focus that absorbed instead of just observed. There was some type of benefit taking place, but one wouldn't be able to define it. They just knew, and that was enough.
But once Tamara had reached the center, she was the one who relaxed her grip. Joseph responded, loosening his own grip, and the warble of the reverse voices almost swept his feet out from under him. At the same time, his head started
swimming in the thick waves of sounds.
He didn't let her or anybody else see his disorientation. Yet, each step was strategic. Maybe it was because of the intoxication of the connection with Tamara. Joseph had to fight the urge to turn around and sweep her up in his arms.
Wouldn't she like that?
Ahead, though, was his spot in the circle. Several villagers had already claimed it for him. While the circle was made up of a single row of people, there before him sat three rows. The extra two rows sat further inside the circle. The innermost row was only made up of two people. There was a vacant spot between them. Those who made up all three rows looked up at him expectantly.
When he neared the two women just before him, they reached out. He took both their hands, and they guided him down to the spot between them. The others in the rows behind him reached forward, touching his back and shoulders in greeting. He smiled at each of them in return. There were no words spoken. They knew there would only be confusion.
The woman on his left leaned over and pointed at the new patch on his chest. He looked down to see where she indicated. Sharing her gaze again, he understood
she wondered where it had come from.
"Oh." He said, and then nodded toward Tamara. When the two women looked, Tamara was already sitting upon the ground, her eyes closed like before. Turning back to Joseph, the woman on the left gasped and then touched the shawl upon her own head. Then she tapped the new patch on Joseph's chest.
Joseph nodded.
The woman then pointed past him. He looked. The angle of her finger aimed over the roof of the building on that side of the path. The only thing to see was the tower. Turning back to the woman, Joseph nodded again. The woman smiled.
Joseph offered his own smile, and then looked across at Tamara. Her eyes were open and targeting a point over his head. She lifted her right hand high above her. At this gesture, all the warbling and backwards speaking wound down to eventual silence.
More of the gaps had been filled, but those that weren't were gradually occupied by those who had been standing before. As these villagers hurried to fold the banners in their laps, Joseph felt again several hands touching his back and
shoulders.
Someone entered the circle from his right.
"Hoo! Hooo!" a woman called, pulling Joseph's attention to the left. Again, she sounded, "Hoo! Hooo!"
This wasn't the first time he had heard this, but after taking the warbles and backward speech, this one sound came as it should. She was speaking no words, just making a noise, and the spirit realm saw it as such.
"Hoo! Hooo!" she called once more.
This was done to announce the old man who walked out in the open space of the circle. He walked deliberately: hunching forward slightly, swinging his leg forward, pointing his toes downward, and then placing them first upon the ground. Then he'd let the rest of his foot settle before making the same careful motions with his other leg.
He looked as if he was sneaking his way toward Tamara. He carried the staff in both hands, holding it horizontally before him. The crimson sash was still attached to the bottom. He was still wearing the satchel on his side, but the sash wasn't coming from underneath the top flap. It was trailing behind him on the ground.
Joseph didn't get to see the full length of the sash since it had been stored in that satchel. It was reaching all the way out of the circle now. He didn't bother trying to look beyond the villagers just to see how far down the path the sash
stretched. He didn't want to turn away from what was happening in front of him.
"Hooooo!" another woman on the opposite side of the circle called. Her sound was lower in pitch compared to the first woman. The old man stopped short of reaching Tamara
at the call. There were several feet between the two.
She and the old man stared at one another. This moment lingered until the old man lifted his staff above his head, still keeping it horizontal. He released it with his left hand. Before that end started to fall, he twirled the staff in his right hand. The end with the sash swept out behind him and then to the
right. Before it was positioned out ahead of him, he brought the staff down. Lashing through the space between him and Tamara, the end of the staff met the ground near his left foot. A bit of dirt hopped from the ground to find another spot to rest.
Joseph knew what was being conveyed to him. Each posture, each step, each sound, each movement, and the condition of the sash, all of it spoke to him.
The old man lifted the staff and held it vertically to his right. Keeping it in place, he picked up his left foot and then stomped it back down. He did this with his right foot next. Repeating this, he slowly pivoted to the left to eventually face Joseph. Before he finished, a woman of the village entered the circle from the right.
Joseph remembered her and others like her from earlier. She was one of those who had exited a workshop along the river wearing a sarong, a short top, and a crimson bandana over her hair.
She had been one of the calmer ones, due to her bandana's deeper shade of red. She entered the circle from the same spot the old man had and was now walking along the length of the sash. Just as deliberate as he had walked, she put one foot in front of the other, careful not to step off the fabric. Since she carried nothing in her hands, she stood upright, facing the old man who had finished pivoting around. Angled away from Joseph, he was facing down the length of the
sash, watching the calm woman approach.
So far, Joseph was relieved at what they were telling him without words.
Before the woman reached the old man, he took the staff in both hands, held it horizontally, and then thrusted it upward. As he did this, he bent his knees and went into a hunched posture. Dropping enough to allow his height to match
that of the woman's, he let out a quick grunt.
"Hunh!"
Just as fast as he hunched, he sprang back into an upright posture, only to go back down again.
"Hunh!"
Repeating this movement, the woman eventually stopped. The distance between her and the old man matched that between he and Tamara. The old man's grunts and movements announced the arrival of the next woman. Entering from the same spot, she too walked along the sash.
Joseph was already aware that the nature of what was being said had changed the moment the old man began his motions. Yet, when Joseph observed this next woman, he
saw that the bandana she wore over her hair was a brighter red.
Standing upright like the woman before her, she also carried a piece of cloth in her left hand. Joseph knew she did this so he could see it, as opposed to holding it in her right hand. This cloth was also red, but it was a shade darker than that of her bandana.
Joseph gathered the intensity of the message being conveyed had risen, but not to an extreme degree. However, as the old man continued his motions, this woman came
to a stop along the sash. The distance between her and the woman before her was wider this time. Noting this, another woman was already entering the circle, walking along the sash. Her bandana was a bright red as well. She also carried
a piece of cloth, but it was in her right hand. Still, Joseph could see it, knowing her choice of hand was also on purpose.
She stopped after only a few steps inside the circle, leaving an even wider gap between her and the woman before her.
"Ho!" the old man called, freezing in an upright stance, holding the staff above his head.
Having been drawn to him, Joseph was now aware that many women, all dressed the same as the women along the sash, were standing just outside the circle. All their bandanas were bright red. They each held a piece of crimson fabric in their right hands.