A Gypsy Tale

"A Gypsy Tale" : Based on an image prompt

Unremarkable, the night had been. But then, that had been the way of the convent. Sandara was learning this quickly. It had been a mere two months since she’d been exiled by her own band of gypsies and left to fend for herself. She was only fifteen years old.

She had been abandoned for a variety of transgressions, primarily for her affinity for gajo boys. A romantic at heart, Sandara could hardly let herself be restricted to the boys of her gypsy community… and when her family had decided a year ago that it was time for her to marry a man nearly twice her age, she refused; if that hadn’t been marime enough, she continued to wander off into the city, away from the village, to meet with boys and girls her age she’d met doing this or that. Never to do anything wrong, simply to talk over tea or things of that variety. But alas, a crime was a crime, and it seemed that nearly anything she could do was taboo �" so it was really without regret that she found herself banished from the vitsa. Here, even at the convent, she found more freedom than she’d ever had with her family.

She was the only orphan girl at the convent who looked the way she did. Deep olive skin, piercing green eyes, and thick black hair with subtle waves that reached past her waist. Many called her ugly for her differences, but she knew she was beautiful; the plain girls, void of color in their skin and texture in their hair with lifeless brown eyes were merely jealous of all that made Sandara unique. Sandara had yet to see a Sister without her habit, but she was certain all the sisters looked the same; ratty, dry, and old.

The night was foggy. Sandara sat on a hard chest by the open window in her shared bedroom. She stared at the clear lake that surrounded the convent and her eyes glistened with the reflection of the moon. She watched the crescent dance on the ripples as a warm breeze played with silken strands of her hair.

“What are you doing?” The voice of her roommate Hadley broke her concentration. Sandara smiled at a memory.

“There is an old Gypsy tale you know, about nights like this. That once, there was a boy…. Handsome, with ice blue eyes and skin like mine. His hair was darker than black if you can imagine such a thing. He was like me… different from the other gypsies, but in his own way…” Sandara stared off into the distance, remembering home. Hadley listened intently to the words of a story she knew would most certainly be forbidden if the sisters heard it. They didn’t take kindly to gypsies or their tales, and had only accepted Sandara because of her newly found lack of association with them.

“You know, we are supposed to stay close…. Us gypsies…. No association should be made with outsiders…. But this boy, he was kind and wanted to understand a world different from his own. So, he often disappeared all day, until late at night… and then he’d return home after nearly everyone in the village was asleep. It turned out that, like me, he’d been sneaking off into the town nearby… but while I went for friends, he went to learn! We are not supposed to attend school after the primary grades, but he continued to copy lessons from a gaji he’d met when he was a child…”

Hadley was confused by the foreign terminology, but Sandara realized it before she could ask. “Gaji… a girl, an outsider though �" like you. Like me too now, I suppose.”

“Anyway… it’s forbidden to learn too much about outsiders… to learn anything outside the gypsy way really. One night, despite his refusal, the gaji insisted on walking back with him to the village. An elder caught him… a fortune teller and a spellcaster. She told him she’d known of his forbidden excursions for a while but had kept it a secret from his family to spare them the humiliation of such marime. Or, as you would say, a sin. But she hadn’t realized the severity of his wrong doings! Not only had he been escaping the village to learn the ways of students from outside, but with the help of a girl no less! Oh, if only you understood how frowned upon it is for a gypsy boy to associate with a woman who has no intention of learning our ways!” Sandara’s voice rose dramatically. The warm breeze seemed to strengthen in effort to keep up with the emotion in her story.

“He was damaged, now, you see �" all the time spent outside the village with that girl �" who knew how much of them he’d absorbed, and how much of his own people he’d forgotten? The elder again promised to spare his family the pain and disgust of his actions…his marime…. And she used a forbidden, old, dark curse on him! She made him disappear in the worst way for gypsies, cast him out completely…. She turned him into a cat! A black cat no less, and all of him that remained was his icy blue eyes…” Sandara said. She looked far from the convent and across the lake, where a lone dock stood.

She vividly recalled stumbling through the wooded area before it after being banished by the only family she’d ever known and spotting the convent after a few days of aimless wandering. She dived into the lake and swam to the convent with the last of her strength, knowing the nuns would care for her there. “The gypsies say that the cat wandered away from the village and never returned, forced to live eternal life in his new, forever marime form. They say he lurks around on the night of the crescent moon, and watched over others like him…. Like me…. From a distance. He keeps us safe from forgetting who we are, and serves as a reminder of what we’ll become should we return home…”

“That sounds sad.” Hadley said. “Your gypsy people do not sound kind, like you are.”

“I think it’s beautiful.” Sandara said, sounding distant, as though she were in a dream. “The gypsies consider cats marime, tainted, dirty…. And so, to become those things, as I have, but to live your life freely as such a regal creature… ah, I almost envy him.” Sandara said. She sighed and turned away from the window.

“I hope my story didn’t bore you, Hadley �" just an old gypsy tale that gets told to prevent us from straying. Doesn’t always work, you see.” Sandara laughed with Hadley and began to prepare for bed. The curtain danced as the gentle breeze from earlier came to bid the girls farewell.

Outside the window and across the lake at the dock, a pair of nuns returned from their journey into town for necessities. As they arrived, they met with a familiar, dark-haired creature that had begun visiting not so long ago. Sister Francis reached into her bag �" as she’d grown accustomed to the cats visits, she’d begun carrying a saucer with her, and from the new groceries, she poured some milk and presented it to the cat. The cat made a sound, a sound that the Sisters decided meant he was grateful, but he contentedly began to walk away, back into the woods.

“That cat is so strange.” Sister Robbins said. “He always sits on the dock right as dinner ends and right until bedtime for the girls. He looks straight at Hadley’s window!”

“I’m fond of him,” Sister Francis said, “Actually, it’s ever since Hadley’s new roommate came… the gypsy girl. Funny, isn’t it? It’s almost as if he’s looking for her.”

“I suppose so.” Sister Robbins said. She carefully got into the raft that the nuns used to travel back and forth. Sister Francis joined her.

The cat watched them from afar, before deciding that maybe, the saucer of milk wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

Reviews

[Mikayla_Stagg]

Okay, your paragraphs need indents. Otherwise, I'm very interested so far. i love it. And the picture at the end really added a dramatic affect. Looking forward to more of this story.