A Girl Between

by Marjorie Weismantel

  There was another new person in my gym class that drew my attention when he emerged from the locker room. His head was shaved and there were tattoos all over his arms and his neck. Presumably, they were also covering his chest and back. Not very attractive. I made a point to position myself near him during the aerobic session so I could check him out more closely. Was that a swastika in his swirl of tattoo designs? It was hard to tell but it sure looked like it. I also saw a nasty rat with gleaming eyes crawling down his arm. Who has a tattoo of a rat? One sign that gave me the creeps was a short cross with an X interspersed over it. What was that? I bet Mercy would know.

  Suddenly, he turned and stared at me. Looking in his eyes was like staring down a black hole. I couldn’t see any pupils. How could that be? Doesn’t everyone have pupils? He turned back and relief flooded through me. I preferred that he didn’t take notice of me at all. As we were jumping along with the stupid aerobic stuff, I was feeling a headache coming on and it was getting worse with every bounce. My head felt like it was in vise. I raised my hand to get permission to go to the bathroom and the minute I got there I splashed cold water on my face. Phew, I felt so much better. The discomfort lifted as soon as I stopped jumping around in the gym.

  I went back to the aerobics session (when is it ever going to end?) near Tattoo Man and started hopping to the music again. Wham! That pain hit my head like a sledge hammer. This time it was accompanied by that prickling sensation I get when someone is trying to communicate with me. Was that it? Was Tattoo man messing with my head? I certainly don’t think he’s looking for conversation.

  I feel like I have to do something. The pain’s getting worse. It reminded me of what Mercy did to Bully Boy. I sure don’t want someone to do that to me. I had to act fast, so I went ahead with the first thing that came to mind. I “tripped” and smashed right on top of Tattoo Man. We both went tumbling onto the floor.

  He hissed, “Get off of me!” Then he proceeded to stand up and brush off. Surprise, surprise, he never bothered to help me up.

  “I’m so sorry. Sometimes I can be such a klutz!” I lamented, smiling innocently at him as I scrambled up. I looked him in the eye for a few seconds while apologizing. His eyes were still black, but I did see pupils. They were small and very dark, a gray/black. Maybe that’s why I didn’t see them before. I sensed nothing from his eyes. It was like I was looking in a void. His aura was shades of gray/dark gray hovering around his head like a heavy fog. He was cold, detached, secretive and deceitful.

  Mr. Fat head, the gym teacher shouted, “Everything OK over there?”

  “Yeah, yeah, it’s fine,” I yelled back. That awful aerobic music finally came to an end. I also realized that my headache had disappeared. Maybe it was the aerobics music that caused the headache. Deep down, though, I knew that it was from Tattoo Man.

  Right after class I bumped into Mercy. “Where were you?” I asked.

  “I had a doctor’s appointment and I just got back. How come you were in gym? Couldn’t you get out of it?” She asked me, puzzled.

  “Yeah, I guess, but I left my neck brace in my locker so I just decided to go ahead. My neck has been feeling fine,” I responded defensively.

  “Tess, you’ve gotta cut that out. I feel like ratting you out with your aunt. She would be so pissed!”

  I didn’t want to hear Mercy’s nagging so I immediately changed the subject. “So, have you noticed some of the new kids in school?”

  “I have, and that reminds me, there are some people I want you to meet. They moved into a farmhouse about a half mile from my place. I think you’ll find them quite interesting,” Mercy asserted.

  “When do you want to go? I’m available today and Thursday after school. I can’t go on Wednesday because I have a robotics competition at Rockledge High School. We’re leaving after fifth period and I won’t be back till late.”

  “You and that robotics stuff. I can’t believe you’re into that!” Mercy shook her head.

  “You and everyone else. I like tinkering with things. What can I say?” I shrugged.

  Mercy raised her eyebrows. “It’s part of your unique charm, Tess. How about we drive to the Petrov’s place after school today? I’ll check with Dika in Spanish class to make sure they’ll be around. My mom isn’t working today so she’ll let me take her car.”

  “I’ll meet you in the back lot right after school. Gotta go,” I added as the bell rang.

  38. The Roma Girls

  I leaned against Belinda’s old Toyota, waiting for Mercy. I was off in another world, daydreaming about Ian, when suddenly a soft voice with a strange accent broke into my reverie, “Are you the one, Tessie Littleton?”

  I turned my head to see two exotic young women staring at me. Both of them were strikingly beautiful, with almond shaped eyes and long wavy black hair. One had a bright red scarf draped loosely over her hair and a silver nose ring. The other one had huge gold dangly earrings with tons of jangly bracelets.

  “Hey, I see you guys have met,” Mercy yelled breathlessly as she reached us.

  “We were just in the process,” I responded.

  “Tess, this is Dika Petrov,” Mercy gestured toward the scarfed one, “and this is Nadya Petrov,” while gesturing toward the other one. They both looked at me solemnly and nodded.

  “So nice to meet you,” I said, smiling broadly. They seemed either very reserved or unsure of themselves. I didn’t see any sign of an aura. That is unusual. They must be very practiced at keeping to themselves.

  We all got into the car and made small talk on the way to the Petrov’s house. I was trying to place their accent and finally decided that it sounded Russian or Eastern European. Mercy just met them a few days ago but seems to have made an immediate connection. Eventually we pulled into the driveway of a rundown farmhouse a few miles out of town. Before we got out of the car, Nadya turned to me and said, “We appreciate you coming to our house. Our mama has expressed great interest in meeting you.”

  What? Their mother has expressed great interest in meeting ME? Mercy seemed to know what I was thinking about because she was shooting a warning look to me. I answered politely, “Yes, I am looking forward to meeting her also.”

  When I got out of the car I saw a barn near the house so I asked Nadya, “Do you keep any animals in there?”

  “Yes, we have four horses. We also board horses for people. Dika and I both ride and my father is a horse trainer,” Nadya responded.

  As soon as we walked into the house, a large woman came bustling toward us. She was wearing a long billowy skirt, a puffy blouse, big earrings, bracelets and several long necklaces. For some reason, my Aunt Amy hardly wore any jewelry so it was startling so see so much on someone. I started putting my hand out to shake hers but she ignored it. She came right over to me, gave me a big hug, and loudly declared, “Hello, hello, so nice of you to come to our house.

  Their living room was rather elaborate but a bit shabby. Two lamps and a curvy velvet chair were decorated with a border of purple fringe. A faded oriental rug was centered on the floor and odd little knick knacks were placed everywhere. There was a slight haze in the air that smelled of scented candles and cigarette smoke. Overall, the interior was a little gaudy, but homey and comfortable. It was like I was sitting in a Victorian drawing room.

  “Welcome to our house. I have been looking forward to meeting you, Tessie.” Then, she turned to Mercy, hugged her and added, “It is wonderful to see you also, Mercy. I hope your mother is well.” Mrs. Petrov had the same accent as her daughters, only heavier.

  Mrs. Petrov then gestured toward a large, ornate rose colored sofa and exclaimed, “Please Tessie and Mercy, make yourselves at home here. Nadya, why don’t you bring in some of the coffee cake you made yesterday and a pot of tea.”

  Three beautiful Siamese cats came slinking into the room. One strolled right up to me and rubbed against my leg, loudly purring. I scratched her head and she stared at me with her bright blue, slightly crossed eyes. She appear
ed more intelligent than some people I know. She gracefully jumped up and settled herself in my lap. The other two cats prowled around the room and finally sat on Dika’s lap and a velvet pillow by the front window. “My Siamese cat is named Beauty Queen. They are the most intelligent animals.”

  Dika nodded, “Cats are very special to us. The one in Tess’s lap is Princess Hannah, the one on my lap is Her Royal Highness and the one on the pillow is Empress Stephania.” All three cats stared at us while we were talking about them. It’s funny how cats can make you feel like a dope when they stare at you like they’re bored out of their minds.

  Nadya brought in a tall ornate copper vessel and placed it on the coffee table. She went back to the kitchen and returned with a silver tray of exquisite China tea cups, matching plates, a jar of honey and the coffee cake.

  “That thing is so beautiful. What is it?” asked Mercy

  “It is a samovar. That particular one belonged to my husband’s family for many years. It is the best way to prepare the Russian Caravan tea. I think you will enjoy it. It is best with honey.” Mrs. Petrov proceeded to show us how to pour tea from the samovar. We all helped ourselves to tea and cake and sat around the coffee table. I took a sip. It was wonderful. It smelled and tasted like smoke and pine, very delicious.

  Mrs. Petrov was seated on the other end of the sofa. She looked at me, apprehension showing on her face before asking, “My dear, how are you doing?”

  “I’m doing all right, Mrs. Petrov.” I smiled reassuringly.

  She touched me lightly on my hand, leaning toward me. “Tessie, we know about you. We know why you are here at this time.”

  “Why would you guys know all about me?” I asked, although I had a pretty good feeling why they knew about me. I’m quite sure the girls were luminars.

  Mrs. Petrov looked over at Mercy and her daughters before answering. “Tess, I’m not sure if you know of our background?”

  “I think you may be from Russia or Eastern Europe. It’s just a guess though.”

  “We are Roma. There is another term for the Roma people but we don’t like using it often because it is viewed negatively. It is ‘gypsy’. I presume you have heard of gypsies, Tess?”

  “Yes, I have, but I don’t know much about them,” I acknowledged.

  “The Roma people can be from many parts of the world, but our family came to America from Serbia in the mid-1990s. We came here because of the terrible war that was tearing our country apart. Many people were being tortured and exterminated, and of course, the Roma were among them. We were very lucky to get out when we did. My husband had an uncle from America who helped us get here and we settled with a Roma community in upper state New York.”

  I asked, “That is very interesting Mrs. Petrov, but what does that have to do with what is happening here in Connecticut today?

  “Please be patient with me, Tess. I must explain to you the history of our people for you to understand. The Roma are an ancient people. Over a thousand years ago we emigrated from Northern India to different regions of Europe. We found that we were not welcome in many places because of our distinctive culture and our darker skin. As a result, we became great wanderers, and developed rather unique talents in order to get by. Our men became excellent animal trainers and coppersmiths.”

  “What is important for you to understand is that our women became very gifted in the art of telling fortunes through the reading of palms, the mystical orbs and the cards. In past times, some gypsies also read the tea leaves. Do you know why certain Roma women were able to develop these gifts?” Mrs. Petrov directed her question at me.

  It was unclear so I shrugged and answered, “No, not really.”

  Mrs. Petrov leaned toward me, her eyes gleaming. “It was because of their witch blood. It is my personal belief that there are more talented witches within the Roma population than any other peoples on earth. You may be aware that since the beginning of human existence, the special abilities of witches have evolved over thousands of years, depending on their origin. Unfortunately, there are some regions of the earth where witches have virtually become extinct. Their special gifts have withered due to disuse or fear of discovery. In the case of the Roma witches, the opposite has happened. They have retained many of their original magical abilities and their psychic skill has evolved into their greatest gift,” Mrs. Petrov asserted.

  Mercy asked, “Why did Roma witches evolve that way?”

  “I will explain it to you. Gypsies had been kept out of the normal way of supporting themselves for many centuries because they were always from the outside. For that reason, they had to find other ways to support their families. They learned that no matter where they lived, people would come to them and pay a great deal of money to know what their future held. Over the years, the Roma witches became well known for their ability to read the future. That skill enabled them to put food on the table. ” Mrs. Petrov paused for dramatic effect and then added, “of course, some gypsy women were phonies. They were reading futures and they weren’t witches. They just wanted the money. They gave the Roma a bad reputation.”

  I finally asked her the question, “Mrs. Petrov, are you saying that you and your daughters are witches?”

  Mrs. Petrov smiled before answering, “Actually, Tess, I am more of what you would call a conjurer; however, both of my daughters are powerful witches. But, there is much more to it than that. They have lived many past lives as witches and they have suffered greatly for it. For some strange reason that we do not understand, Roma witches usually return to earth time and again as Roma witches. As far as past oppression, gypsy witches always suffer doubly, once for being a gypsy and once for being a witch.”

  This was amazing to me. I turned to Dika and Nadya and asked, “Do you know much about your past lives?”

  Nadya answered, “Yes, we have fairly good memories of recent past lives. Our people have very strong beliefs about reincarnation and karmic absolution. Our mothers and grandmothers purposely spend time encouraging us as little children to recall what we could about recent past lives. Once those recollections start, it is like pulling a thread. Gradually, those pieces of information fit together to form a picture of a past life.”

  Mercy stared in amazement at Nadya. “You mean you don’t have to get hypnotized to learn about past lives?”

  “No, however, I can only recall two past lives that way,” Nadya admitted.

  I asked, “Can you go back any further than that?”

  Dika chimed in enthusiastically, “Roma witches do have a way of learning about our lives further in the past. It is through the reading of the orb.”

  Nadya quietly added, “And we were there, Tess. Both Dika and I spent some time with you in the 14th century. Normally, the Roma witches wouldn’t mix with others, but we did during that time. We chose to align ourselves with the good ones, the luminars.”

  “You were with me at that time?” I asked, incredulous.

  Nadya smiled sadly and answered, “Yes, we chose to fight with you because of how we were treated. The bad ones, the diaboles, became dominant members of the church hierarchy. It was the perfect place for them to hide at that time because no one would believe who they really were. The church feared our powerful magic because it threatened their control, and of course the bad witches just stirred things up.”

  Mercy questioned, “What do you mean? I’m not sure I understand why the church was afraid of you.”

  “During the 1300s, life for everyone was very harsh. A third of all babies died before they were five years old. People were so fearful they often turned to our magic for help. Peasants and lords alike sought us out for our ability to see visions of their future. Unfortunately, the church viewed our magic as ‘consorting with the devil’, and that is exactly what they told everyone. Eventually, the local people would turn against us so that we would have to flee our homes. We could never settle in one place for long. There were periods of time when persecutions of the Roma became really terrible. They sto
le our children to use as their slaves. The evil ones even got away with mass execution of our people.”

  “How did you know to come here at this time?” I queried.

  Dika replied, “We first talked about retribution during the 14th century Apocalypse. Since then, it has been contemplated by witches during other skirmishes, and during the time of The Between. Of course, there have been many conflicts over the centuries, but the time for a major reckoning has never been quite right. Human and otherworldly events have always gotten in the way. This has become the designated time. We were told by the other witches to get here quickly. They are coming here now. We sense that the time is almost upon us.

  39. Readings

  “Thank you so much for having us over today, Mrs. Petrov,” I said courteously as I finished my tea.

  “You’re so welcome, dear.” Mrs. Petrov smiled broadly, glanced over at Nadya and suddenly blurted out, “I just had a great idea! Why don’t you young ladies have Nadya read the tarot cards for you? I think you would find it very enlightening. She’s the best. Dika is better at the reading of palms but I think the cards are more interesting!”