(Yah-�u Nahkts)
Chapter 7
Voloshin sighed. He felt bad about having to tell them that there was no way of finding a ship that would take them to England any earlier than in a week, when the question of their return came up during last night�s conversation.
�Why not?� the young man queried then.
�Because of J??u Diena,� Voloshin replied automatically, realizing only after the fact that neither one of his guests was familiar with Latvian customs. Noticing the expression of complete befuddlement on their faces, he hurried to explain. �J??u Diena is roughly translated as John�s Day. It is the celebration of Midsummer�s � Latvian style; the time of joy and madness.� Pyotr Aleksandrovitch smiled softly. �It is said that all the witches and bad spirits come out and revel on that day, and even the Devil himself joins the fun. Magic is in the air.� The old man�s voice became very low and almost enigmatic. He grinned at the two pairs of eyes that watched him spellbound and continued, � The celebration itself takes place on the night from 23rd to 24th of June. But, by the time all the sailors get home, by the time all the preparations are done.� The sun sets only for a few hours on that night. And the sky never quite becomes black. It is more of a dark blue.
The Latvians turn it into quite a fabulous holiday. I am sure you and your wife will enjoy it,� the old captain added with confidence, rising from his seat. �When the life in the port town returns to normal, my wife and I will be more than happy to help you board a ship that would take the two of you to England.�
Diego rose also, staring at the old man in confusion. �You and your wife?�
�Well, you will need a place to stay for those few days. My wife and I have a small house not far from the port. The accommodations are, probably, not what you and the se�ora are used to, but it would be better than staying at the inn, considering that you have neither papers nor money.�
The caballero smiled gratefully. �I do not know what to say � except, gracias, se�or,� he said in a low, husky voice.
Their conversation ended on that note, and, though both young people seemed rather excited about the upcoming holiday (especially, after some of the Latvian sailors related a few more details about the celebration in their broken English), Voloshin could still feel that deep inside the de la Vegas were uneasy. He couldn�t really blame them. They had family to come home to, and, after such a stressful experience that they had, the last thing they wanted was another delay � spending a whole week in a strange place. But the folk stories always had some basis of truth in them, and there is something behind the fact that J??u Nakts is called a magical night. Perhaps, some of its magic will captivate this young couple and make them forget about their troubles. And the old man smiled cunningly at the thought.
***
It was the night of 22nd of June, the night before the holiday. The air was warm and still, and the deep all-enveloping silence was interrupted only by occasional hoots of an owl and the soft murmur of the crickets. Those sounds did not disturb the town�s quiet pre-celebration sleep.
Diego lay on his back; his deep brown eyes, devoid of even the slightest hint of sleepiness, stared pensively at the wooden ceiling. He did not quite know the reason for his sleeplessness. Maybe it was the anticipation of the holiday he has heard so much about; maybe it was the anxiety of the near departure and the uncertainty of what lay ahead; maybe it was the inadvertent regret of having to say goodbye to these wonderful people who took them in as if they were their own children. In a few days that they have been guests of the Voloshin household, their hosts did everything possible and impossible to make them better acquainted with Riga and its surroundings.
They saw the exquisite architecture � a cross between German and local style � inside the city, with its neat, narrow streets of cobblestone: the heavy-built, majestic Dome Cathedral, whose powerful organ could be heard in all parts of the capital; the fine, graceful form of St. Peter�s Church that towered above all other buildings, piercing the sky with its crest, crowned by the figure of the golden rooster. They saw the breathtaking and, at the same time, simple beauty of the countryside, with its small hills and clear brooks, and the rich, luxuriant green that, occasionally, hid in its midst the ruins of ancient castles. And Diego knew almost in an instant that he was in love with this place. And he knew also by the rapturous shine in Annabelle�s eyes that she loved it too. It made both of them forget for a while the troubles that life had in store for them, and Diego was grateful for this
moment of peace and happiness.
He turned to look at his wife, who slept peacefully by his side, and smiled softly, as he carefully pulled back a stubborn lock of hair that fell on her forehead. She moaned quietly in her sleep and cuddled up closer to him. Diego felt her warm and pleasantly ticklish breath on his neck. He closed his eyes slowly, letting the night creep into his consciousness. Gradually, the soft chirping of the crickets had worked magic with its beautiful lullaby, and the young man�s breathing became even and calm, as he drifted off into the soothing embrace of slumber, a light smile dancing absently on his slips.