Winter Hearts

Have Me

They had expected to join in the dancing to the modern music, but as they got up, the band started a traditional song, which everyone seemed to be waiting for. Not everyone could dance to pop music, but everyone knew how to dance their traditional dances in Greece. It was ingrained into their bodies through every school event and community get together.

Siana took her place amongst the people who had come up - besides another cousin of hers, she was the only girl. She was familiar with some greek traditional dances, and liked this one, which was the tsamiko, traditionally danced by men only. George, having come up to dance at just that moment, was immediately ushered to the top of the line, to be the lead dancer.

The tsamiko was a very masculine dance, requiring good physical ability and grace. Rather than following a set of fixed steps, it was one that allowed the lead dancer to improvise a little - because it was much more about the beauty and strength of the male form in action than it was about the celebration of the dance. The others were his support, and stood in line, holding each others' hands and following him as he moved slowly in a circle. Often, the lead would make stunning jumps into the air, scissoring his legs and slapping his foot before he landed. Sometimes, he did a graceful balancing act, using all the muscles in his body to control himself as he lowered almost to the ground before coming back up again.

Usually, there was an order to who danced first, but his father, Uncle Stratos, let him take the lead while he himself took the supporting role. The man next in line often had to bear the most weight of the lead dancer, holding him only by the hand or fingers as he bent low or did slow turns on his feet, almost kneeling, almost touching the ground.

Siana could see George get a little emotional that his father had given him the place of honour, and she felt a well of emotions rise up in her chest too. She was always in awe of the power of dancing over people - especially traditional dances or music that affected the community. She glanced at Panos, who had taken a place further along the line towards her, and he nodded to her with a gentle smile on his face.

George was much older, a little shorter than Panos but fit and manly, and in his black dress pants, white shirt and loosened tie, looked very masculine and handsome as he took a table napkin in each hand, offering one to his father to hold with him.

The music started, and George began taking his steps, to the sound of whistling and catcalling coming from the tables. A few people got down on one knee to clap and cheer him on, as he advanced and began pulling the line in a slow circle.

The boys at the table were leaning forward, some taking video footage and pictures, others simply watching in awe. Leo couldn't help watching George as he pivoted on his toes, crouching down and swerving around under the napkin he held with his father, which allowed him to turn easily whilst putting his weight on his father's arm. He came out of the turn and straightened up, to applause from his family.

Leo glanced at Siana, who seemed to be very taken with the dance, and was somehow affected by it. He realised that the family were watching George's performance as if they were all witnessing a rite of passage, engaging on a significant level that made them very proud of him.

He suddenly leaped high into the air, his legs scissoring over each other so that his leading leg landed first, but not before he slapped the foot of his following leg which had come up from behind him. He repeated the move twice more in succession, always landing quietly and with a sort of grace that bespoke his athleticism.

The cheering was constant, and he could hear them shouting "Oppa!" which sounded like their Korean word, except the emphasis was on the first, and not the second syllable. It seemed to be a word of encouragement, rather like their "fighting!".

He felt someone sit down next to him, and looked to see it was Mr Mikhalis, who nodded at him, looking a little moist in the eyes.

"They're good boys, we are very proud of them!" he shouted to Leo over the music. Leo smiled and nodded, looking back to see Panos come over and take his turn at the lead, letting George be his supporting man. Although sprightlier than George, his dancing didn't have the same gravitas as the older brother's did, perhaps because this was a farewell of sorts for him, even though temporary.

The dance ended and there was an enormous surge of cheering and people enveloping George and his father for tearful hugs.

The band leader said a few words over the microphone, and Leo was surprised to see a few women stand, mostly the matriarchs of the family, but also a few shy teens and kids. The only other women were Siana and another girl who had both danced with the men.

He saw Siana listen to the speaker, then look around apprehensively before turning to walk off the floor - but she was waylaid by a group of older women, who insisted she stay on to dance.

The music began, just the bouzoukia, a vibrant and middle eastern sound that was quickly joined by the percussion, and then the drums. The crowd was ecstatic, the women raising their arms and the men whistling.

He heard someone shout in a deep and throaty voice "Accchhh", which sounded so full of yearning he couldn't help looking to see who it was. He saw an older lady, seated and unable to dance, with her arms up and her face a sad smile. She was swaying, looking up at a young kid who grabbed her hands and swayed along with her.

He didn't know the song, nor what it was about, but he could see it had an immediate effect on the crowd, whether from nostalgia or from its meaning.

Then the vocalist began singing, and it was unlike any vocal presentation he had heard. The man sang deep in his throat, as if he were on the verge of crying. He gave little flourishes at the end of his phrases, but mostly it was the quality of the hoarseness in his voice that was enthralling. He felt it was at once deeply sad and yearningly erotic.

He looked around the room, and saw the women dancing, some with more abandon than others, some elegantly, some almost trashily. They were twisting their hips, rolling their bodies, using their hands to draw tendrils and corkscrews in the air. It was an erotic dance, but all the women of all ages were doing it. It seemed to be for the male eyes, but it also seemed to be for each other, or for themselves.

He could see grandmas encouraging the younger kids to let go and feel the music, giving it an innocent exploration of their bodies and music. Then he saw the teens trying too hard, being too self-conscious, but getting encouragement from their mothers, to experiment til they found their style. He watched, intrigued, as the older ladies of the house, with their mothers' bodies and tired frames, come to life with the minimum of effort, dancing with the experience of years of loving and caring and doting. He felt particularly moved by them, they had a dignity and grace that imbued their sensual moves with a world of meaning. He could see yearning, sadness, life, celebration.

He glanced around the table, and could see the various reactions of his brothers, some a little more taken aback than others, some trying to hide their curiosity and excitement, some relaxed and absorbing the atmosphere with a kind of knowing.

Then he realised he hadn't seen Siana, and felt his pulse quicken and his gut twist with a dull ache. He wanted to see her. He wanted to see how she was responding to the music.

He remembered that he had already seen her do something like this when she thought she was alone, without an audience.

Now, she was in full view of everyone, and he was there.

He was her audience.

He searched, almost afraid to see what he would find.

There, he saw in the thick of the crowd, her long hair which shimmered as she flipped it and turned to face the front.

And looked straight into his eyes with such a burning look of desire he gasped.

Then she was gone, swallowed up by the moving women, and all he had left was his breathlessness and something a bit like pain in his chest.