Nanata

FLORIN BICĂ ANCA SMĂRĂNDACHE

FLORIN BICĂ is a children's books editor. He has published poems, essays, articles, book
reviews, movie reviews, etc. He coordinates two book collections at Life and Health Pub-
lishing House: the "Junior Library" and "The Books of Doru Gălbenuș". He wrote books for
children, fiction and non-fiction, such as: "I Found a Bag of Money", "Paper Toy", "Planet
Insects", "School of Beautiful Girls".
ANCA SMĂRĂNDACHE is passionate about painting and drawing and her illustrations
often depict fantastic worlds. She enjoys reading and listening to music and remains
hopelessly in love with art. She graduated from the Mural Art Department of the National
University of Arts in Bucharest with a master's degree in Visual Arts. She illustrated books
by Oscar Wilde, Ioana Nicolaie, Mark Twain, Charles Dickens, Iulia Iordan, etc.

Editor: ANCA STANCIU
Proofreader: ANDREI DOBOȘ
Graphic design: MIHAELA NENCIU

Nanata is the second book in the “New Storytellers” project. This is a project by “In Other Words,” a Romanian NGO
that supports authors who give voice to Roma characters. Many thanks to everyone who supported our project:
Swimathon Bucharest donors and the Alex Fund!

Written by FLORIN BICĂ

Illustrated by ANCA SMĂRĂNDACHE

Translated from Romanian by GEORGIANA BANU



All day, every day, Renata’s little brother is up
to no good.

“Mommy! Amza scribbled in my book!”
Renata cries.
“He’s still little, honey. Be patient with him.”

“Daddy, Amza broke my doll!”
“Let me have a look. Bet I can patch her up
in no time.”

“Na-na-ta! Na-na-ta!” Amza chants as he does
loop-the-loops around her like an airplane.
"My name is Renata, not Nanata!” she snaps.

“He’s little, that’s all,” Granny says, trying
to console her. “When he grows up a little
more, he’ll get it right.”



“Why me? I wish I had a big brother!”
Renata grumbles to herself.
“Little brothers are so annoying!”

Outside she can hear the voices of
children going out to play.
“I’m going out, too. But how can I get
rid of Amza?”

Renata has an idea.



Crouching underneath the wash basin, she
starts to inch her way outside. Slither-squirm.



“Na-na-taaaaaaa!”
“Go back inside, Shorty!” Renata shouts.
“Why?”
“ 'Cause I said so. I‘m the boss 'cause I’m older.”
“Nuh-uh!”

Renata joins in a game of Blind Man’s Bluff.
“Aaah! A bug!” she screams. “I hate bugs!”

Amza picks the bug off and holds it in his
palm, admiring it until it flies away.

“Hmm, I thought Shorty was a scaredy-cat!”
says Renata, surprised.

Now the kids are playing tag.
Renata starts running, too.

Splash!
“Oh, no! My shoe’s all wet!”

"Nanata!"
Amza gives her one of his shoes.
“It’s too small. It won’t fit,” Renata tells him.

“What do you know? Now he’s giving me his
shoe!” she grins, amused, and sits down in the
grass to dry off.

Up in the sky, the puffy clouds seem to be
playing tag, too. The minutes fly by…

Renata is dreaming with her eyes wide open.
“Those clouds, they look just like children.
And that one, that little one, is tagging
behind the bigger one, just like….”



Renata shoots bolt upright.
“Shorty! Where’s he gone?”

The children are playing at the edge of the
forest, but Amza’s not there. Renata puts her
wet shoe back on and rushes off to look for
her little brother.



From behind a bush, she hears voices.
Two boys are bent over watching ants
carry crumbs back to their anthill.
Amza isn’t there, either.



Renata hurries to the stream and accidentally
slips in. Great. Now she has two wet shoes. Up and
down the stream she searches, but no Amza.

Then something catches her eye. A blur is
moving back and forth through the tall trees.
Renata has a hunch.

The blur disappears behind a large tree
trunk. Renata tiptoes closer. She can hear
her heart beating loudly inside her chest.

There’s Amza, behind the tree. He’s staring up into
the branches above. Way up high, there’s a squirrel.
The little boy reaches for it.

“Nanata! Nanata!” he cries, as if Renata can fly
up and catch the squirrel for him.

Big sister takes his hand. His fingers
stick to her wet palm.

She shakes them loose.
“Bet you can’t catch me, Shorty!”
“Nuh-uh! Bet you can’t catch me!” he laughs
and bolts in front of her, heading for home.