Merope had been paying attention to this new Romanian goings on. Moving to such a different climate had been a bit of a shock at first, but she was getting used to it. Tom, on the other hand, still remained slightly dumbfounded each time he turned over a new rock that hadn’t been there the day before. Overall, the two of them had begun to learn the customs of this new place.
“Yes, I saw a few signs up this morning that mentioned something about a parade. It could be fun.”
“Do you remember when it is?” Merope asked, wondering what holiday could make such a commotion in the peaceful town.
“Um, no.”
“That’s fine. I’m sure we can find a place with all the festivities in this town listed.”
“We could try the hotel. I’m sure someone at the front desk would have something for us.”
Walking back to the hotel, Merope and Tom passed many places that they had become familiar to them. Among these were busy roads, street venders, and even a few people they had seen many times in this small area of Romania. They continued on until they came arrived at the familiar hotel. It had a large sign out front that read “Ramnicu Valcea” and a bed of red flowers resting below the indicator.
The color of their flowers had changed many times since the couple had first come to this town. They started off blue during the end of the winter months, the time Merope and Tom had first arrived, changed to a light shade of pink during February, and were now, Merope observed, a russet red. During the course of their stay, the flowers had been a beacon of spring shining through the dark winter months, and had changed continuously during this time.
Keeping their regular pace, Merope stepped into the inn first. She walked up to the front desk and started talking to the hotel secretary as Tom followed closely behind.
“This is going to sound like an odd question…” Merope could tell this wasn’t starting well at all. How could she ask about the festivities without sounding like an outsider? After all, she had been living here for quite a while now. She didn’t want people suspecting anything.
“You’d be surprised at how many ‘odd’ questions I get around here. But I’d be happy to answer it.”
The blonde woman at the desk had become accustomed to Merope and Tom’s "odd" questions--heaven knows they had asked many of them.
Tom stepped forward and continued. “What my wife was going to say, Sara,” he began, using the name the lady had given them earlier, “is that we noticed a lot of festivities going on around here. And, well, we were wondering what sort of holiday was coming up.”
Sara gave them a strange look, but gave them a truthful answer. “I’m no historian, but I have been living here for my whole life. I can tell you a little about ““
“That’s all we need.” Merope cut in, trying to get straight to the point so they could leave this blonde-haired-beauty. She always hated it when Tom talked to other women.
“As I was saying,” Sara said as she gave Merope an evil look which Merope heartily returned, “This holiday is called Martisor. It’s unique to Romania and some small areas around it. It’s not a very well known holiday, and it’s not commercialized, so most other countries don’t acknowledge it.”
“Can we get to the point, please?” Merope spat scathingly. She was deeply regretting their decision of coming here.
Ignoring the interruption, Sara continued nonchalantly, “It begins on March first and was originally a celebration of spring. I don’t know much about its origin, but I do know that. Nowadays, though, it is considered to be a holiday of love. Kind of like, what do Americans and British call it? Oh yeah,” she chucked, “Valentine’s Day.”
Merope’s stomach flipped, and she stepped slightly backwards into Tom’s chest. Not really knowing what was wrong, but feeling the tension, Tom wrapped his hands around her waist to reassure her.
“That sounds like fun,” he said.
Continuing with her explanation, Sara said, “It is traditional for the male in a relationship to buy an amulet and give it to the girl. You’ll probably see many street vendors and stores selling them around this time of year, but you can also make them.”
Feeling her face redden with the anger bubbling inside her, Merope simply said, “Thank you.” She removed herself from Tom’s embraced, but grabbed his hand and pulled him out of the building.
“She seems nice.” Tom said, having not noticed anything.
“Mm-hm, sure.”
“And, we got the information we needed. Now, where can I find one of these ‘amulet’ things?” He said this while kissing Merope on top of her head. “I think I know someone I could give one to.”
The two passed the bed of red flowers again, this time knowing what they stood for. Tom reached down and picked one by the stem. He then reached over and placed it behind Merope’s ear.
“And she’s standing right in front of me.”
“Amulets for sale! Buy your Martisor amulets here!”
Now that they had a better idea what this holiday was about, Tom and Merope began to notice amulets and festivities around every corner. The two had stopped at the first place they saw that said “Amulets Here,” just to find out what these "amulet" things were. It turns out they were just two pieces of string, one red and one white, twisted together and tied in a bow. Some more fancy ones had small charms on them, but every one that they had seen were attached to some sort of pin. Apparently, they were to be worn on the right side of a girl’s chest.
Now Tom knew why Sara had said he could just make one. It didn’t seem like it would be that hard to do. I don’t have much time left, though, Tom thought as he walked hand-in-hand with Merope. March first is tomorrow. When am I going to make this stuff?
As the two walked down the street they passed several craft carts, but Tom could find the time when Merope wasn’t looking to buy the supplies he needed. The moment came when the couple was at a small café eating lunch. Merope had left to use the ladies' room, and Tom figured this gave him five minutes shopping time.
He quickly ran out of the café and onto the streets of the little town. It only took him about 30 seconds to find the nearest craft cart. He hurriedly bought two pieces of red string and two pieces of white string. On is way back he stopped by a flower vender and purchased a bouquet of ‘snow drops’ which he heard from the lady at the craft cart were a traditional spring flower for a husband to give his wife.
Continuing with his speedy pace, he found a niche outside the café to store his items until a time came that he could get them. Moving as fast as he could now, he made his way back to their table to await Merope’s return. He was extremely glad the town was so closely compacted.
“You look out of breath.” Merope observed as she walked back to the table.
“Yeah, I…” Tom paused a moment to think, but didn’t let the moment linger as not to call suspicion, “walked over to the counter to get some coffee, but it spilled on me and I was trying to clean it up before you got back.”
Merope knew that Tom was much better at coming up with excuses on hand than she was, but it was a very logical explanation. After all, when had he lied to her before?
On the way back to the inn at the end of the day, Tom nonchalantly moved toward the direction of the café, grabbed the bag of goodies he had bought earlier that day, slipped it under his coat, and continued walking back to the inn with Merope.
When he got back, he slipped the bag under the bed, being careful not to crush the pale flowers. As soon as he could, he took the flowers out and put them in water. A few of the petals had fallen off, but they were still nice enough looking. He then took the bouquet over to the window so that it could get some light, but hid it behind the curtain surrounding the glass.
Right before he went to bed, he set his alarm to go off around midnight. He wanted to make the amulet when Merope was asleep so he wouldn’t have to worry about being so secretive.
It was now 12:00am, the early morning of March first. Tom’s alarm went off with a buzzing sound loud enough to wake him up, but quiet enough not to wake up his partner.
“Mmff” Tom groaned as he rolled over in his bed.
His alarm continued to buzz until he finally reached over and turned it off. Not noticing anything that was around him, he walked over to the sink and got himself a glass of water. He was too tired to comprehend anything and he could for the life of him remember what he had been thinking when he set his alarm to go off so late.
He put the glass down on the counter and walked back over to the bed. It was too dark to see anything in the room so he simply pulled back the covers and climbed into bed. Within a few minutes he was asleep again.