The Gypsy Dances: A Series for the Creative Writer, Part 4

This series on The Gypsy Dances begins on Dec. 27.

They Gypsy Dances: Scenes from Mary Jane Taxter's Novel

"I don’t see why you had to bring her," Two Ponies hissed. "I don’t see why you need anyone, or ever needed anyone but me," she finished with a toss of her head. Folding her arms across her naked breasts, she glared first at Grandmother and then at Evelyn. She lifted her arms to the sky and let her head fall back so that her hair nearly touched the ground. "Ei-yie!" she cried.

"What is she compared to me!"

Stunned, Evelyn knew she had met the woman in her dreams, the woman in the woods.
Two Ponies’ breath was slow and deep, causing her breasts to rise and stiffen with the passion of her jealousy. Her hips moved sinuously as she closed the distance between herself and Evelyn. She stretched first one arm and then the other, her hands opening and closing, reaching for Evelyn like the mouth of a many-tongued snake.

At first Evelyn turned to run, but she looked back over her shoulder and saw her Grandmother and she knew she had to stay. "No!" she cried, turning back to face Two Ponies. "No," she said again, more quietly this time, her body responding to the challenge of Two Ponies’ dance with movements of its own. Movements she had not known she knew.

She ran her fingers through her hair, freeing it from the braids that held it tame, and shook her wild curls loose. She unbuttoned the front of her dress, slipped her arms from the sleeves that she let hang empty at her waist. She removed the camisole that covered her breasts and waves of delight coursed through her as the air caressed them.

Raising her arms as Two Ponies had done, she sang to the sky, "This I have and more. This . . ." She pressed both hands to her head. "And this . . ." She placed both hands over her heart. "And this . . ." She ran her hands down either side of her body. All the while, she swayed; her feet beat the earth to the rhythm of her heart and a fire built in her soul.

Two Ponies made a snakelike sound through her teeth and her feet moved wildly; her body twisted and turned; wilder and wilder she danced, now baring her teeth, now tossing her head in a frenzy of laughter that sent shivers down Evelyn’s spine and raised the level of her own passion. And Evelyn matched Two Ponies move for move. Faster and faster. She couldn’t have stopped even if she wanted to. Soon her own laughter filled the air. Her anger, her fear, turned into pure pleasure as her feet flew lightly across the ground and her body spun. She was lost in the dance, and strangely she felt a lightening in Two Ponies as well. Her parted lips seemed less threatening, her laughter less mad.

Evelyn was only vaguely aware that Grandmother had joined them, her own chest now bared, her own hair loosened and her body moving to its own wild rhythm. The three of them danced, alone but together; Evelyn felt herself swept up by their flow, and she couldn’t believe it when, exhausted, she fell breathlessly from the circle. The older women continued, seeming not to notice she was no longer with them. She sat on the ground, leaned against a tree and watched. True, Two Ponies’ leaps were higher and more energetic than Grandmother’s, but for all her softness and fleshiness, Grandmother was holding her own.

The women now seemed to have entered into some kind of contest of their own, one which, Evelyn felt certain, they had engaged in many times before. As they circled, drawing now closer, now back, their eyes held, communicated their exclusive intimacy. And Evelyn felt an ache in her heart, an emptiness, a yearning: This was something that belonged to Grandmother and Two Ponies only; this was something she could not hope to share.

Part 5: Calling Forth Your Gypsy: Coming soon!

If you are enjoying this series, you can explore your own inner journey as a creative writer in Emily's workbook, called The Art of Ficiton Writing or How to Fall Down the Rabbit Hole Without Really Trying. This series on The Gypsy Dances is excerpted from The Art of Fiction Writing. To order, click here.