The Charm

More tanks sounded in the distance. “Grandpa, I’m scared!”

“Let me finish, child.” He wiped the tear from her eye. “You need to hear this before it is too late.” He held her hand. “See the circle?”

She sniffed. “Yes, Grandfather.”

“The wheel is a symbol of the Gypsies’ nomadic way of life.” He continued. “The red signifies the blood of the Gypsies murdered in the past. Red is also the color of memory—of joy. We enjoy life.” He paused. “Georgia, this disk has been charmed by your great, great grandmother. It has a special power.”

“Power?” Georgia stared at her grandfather. “What power?”

“This tiny disk,” He paused as another tank fired. “This disk has the power to restore life.”

“You mean I can make someone live again?”

“No, not live again, but keep them from leaving.” He paused. “Georgia, this can be used once and only once. You must decide when the time is right. It has to be used at the point of death. It doesn’t bring people from death; it stops them from crossing. At their last moment, before they take their last breath, place this disk in their hand, and hold it there with yours. It will bring them back—give them more time on this world. The timing needs to be perfect.”

He placed it in her hand. “Georgia, repeat after me. I will never show this to a living soul.” She did. “Again!” He commanded, “I will never show it to a living soul.”

She did as she was told. “There are people who know of this charm, but not where it is. If they know you have it, they will take from you at any cost. Your life will be in danger. Use it wisely, child.”

On their way home they passed the house that had been bombed by the tank. The Russians bombed at random, to frighten those who dared revolt against Russian rule. Neighbors battled the flames with buckets of water. The home would soon be gone, another scar of the revolution. That night, Georgia was woken by her father. “Georgia, come. We must leave.”