brown hair and is buxom. She sits between the older man and a very tall, dark-skinned young African American man. At one point during the Gypsy orchestra entertainment, she puts her arms around both men and they sway back and forth. The young Ukrainian woman at the table is thin yet shapely with very short hair. She sits with a bald young man who leans very close so she can speak into his ear. She is not telling secrets. Early on, the waiter discovered her voice is a mere whisper and one must lean close to hear her.
After a short interlude, the Gypsy orchestra launches into a Hungarian number. A slow passage is followed by the traditional dance, the czardas. While the thin-faced older man at table twelve pays the tab, the other two men stand to pull out chairs. Before standing, the two young women at table twelve each take a Sox baseball cap and put it on. All five laugh as they leave the table. Rather than leaving the restaurant, they move closer to the Gypsy orchestra and the dance floor, where several couples have begun to dance.
The tall African American man offers his hand to the long-haired buxom beauty, while the bald young man offers his hand to the thin Ukrainian beauty who, with her short hair and shapely legs, looks like a fashion model.
Both couples watch others dancing the fast-paced czardas and try to do the same, but it is obvious they need practice. When the music slows to the solo violin, the couples move closer and sway on the dance floor. The older man in the red, white, and green tie stands to the side, smiling as he plays his own invisible violin.
The soloist is exceptional, reminiscent of Lakatos and his Gypsy Orchestra. The violin cries out on the dance floor, but it can also be heard up and down the hallways of Casino Budapest. As if on cue, intermission is called at other venues within the casino, and the cry of the violin alone travels outside onto the street.
From high on the Kiev hills, this could be any city, the heat of the day making its lights shimmer. The solo violin does not skip a beat as the soloist goes into his final, mournful note. It is as if the violinist possesses a bow of infinite length. This is music from the border regions to the south and west, music from Hungary and Romania. To the north, near the Belarus border, a pair of red lights on the Chernobyl towers blink slowly in the night as if they, too, can hear the violin. The red eyes of the predator, momentarily taken by the music, blinking to clear away its tears.
