Balancing over the Rabbit Hole
Posted: 07 Aug 2011, 03:01
(random thoughts from just prior to Angela Francezci's turning into the vampire Zodiac)
'…leave…'
She sat watching the rain as it pattered against the window of her shop. The steaming mug of tea sitting by her elbow as she felt the warning again. It had been happening for days now, a small inner voice telling her what she should be doing instead of just sitting here. Her last two appointments had canceled due to the weather and she had little hopes her next one would show up either, so she indulged in a bit of soul searching as she watched the rain beating against the glass. All things considered, it was probably the best advice she could have now since things were beginning to become…well, strange.
Angela Francezci's fingers twirled through her long curly black hair that had been streaked with hints of purple, red, and green on purpose. The colors accenting the long flowing bandanas and scarves she liked to wear along with the oversized blouse, shawl, and flowing peasant skirt. Fingerless long gloves covered her forearms also adorned with bracelets and bangles and rings to the point some said she actually jingled when she walked. But the gypsy image was not something to amuse her customers when they showed up for her services. It was her birthright as well. She had been a traveler since the day she was born as part of a modern day caravan of gypsies traveling from town to town. Her grandmother had told her she had arrived in the back of a van as they crossed the Oklahoma/Texas border one night and spent the next 17 years of her life accepting this roving lifestyle as totally normal.
She missed it, despite setting down roots and having what she had always dreamed of. Always a new town, a new place, new faces yet surrounded by old ones she could always trust and had loved. It was never an easy life to be sure. Gypsies were still treated in the modern age as they had been for centuries. Not that such treatment was not always undeserved. Many of their modern counterparts still felt the need and right to cheat, steal and lie to people for what they needed to continue, giving those others who simply sought freedom a bad reputation and hostile welcomes when they would roll into a town and try to rest for a few days. Her little clan had been a mixture of both honest sorts and thieves that worked together.
Lightening flashed causing her to blink. She sipped her tea and frowned at the view she had of the outside world. The security bars she had had installed over her windows spoiling the view from both sides of the glass. In the window, the little neon sign glowed on but she imagined it looked somewhat odd now with lines of iron back crossing the words. THE EYE OF ZODIAC it proclaimed along with a cartoonish image of a human eye that blinked open and closed. Vinyl lettering neatly placed below proclaiming 'Fortunes Told-Cards Read-Spiritual Advisor and Supplier-Curios'. 'Zodiac' had been the name her grandmother had given her when she had begun to groom Angela to be part of her own act. Her grandmother claimed she had 'the Gift' as well for such things and those who came to have their fortunes revealed enjoyed the novelty of a child who apparently was able to peel away the fog between the present and the future and past. Thunder now rolled across the afternoon skies as she played with her earring absently.
'…leave…'
She had done her share of that already in life. Traveling was still in her blood, but running was another matter. The only time she ever ran was when she had had enough of her mother and what was expected of her. She had been raised by both mother and grandmother. Grandmother had assured her that her father was of Romanian stock as her mother was ('A true gypsy' she had said) but she sometimes doubted that. Her last name- Francezci-was derived from an older form of the name Ferenk which was the name of the tribe of supplicants who served a man named Ferenczy who legend said was a familiar (and perhaps lover) of the legendary Countess known as Bathory. It made for good reading as far as she was concerned, but if it was true or not she couldn't say. Her grandmother was the fortune teller while her mother was one of the few who 'entertained' the fools who come to spend good money in more erotic ways. Her grandmother had made sure she could read and write as well as teaching her the craft. The most use her mother had for her was to clean up the van after an evening making money along with the laundry and other things.
Until one night when she was 16. She had gone to get food and drink for her grandmother when some of the more rowdy visitors saw a target of opportunity. She had never known a man and was suddenly educated to the violent extreme. Due to her unique 'condition' she could not cry out for help and was used several times before one of her own discovered the deed in progress and all hell broke loose in the camp that night. She learned much from that night. Justice was odd. It favored not the innocent who had been abused, especially gypsies. Terms like 'supposed' and 'implied' and 'vague' kept replacing what she swore was facts. 'Good old boys' was the term the local Sheriff kept using when he had arrived to describe her attackers. As far as she knew, those men never received punishment for their deeds. All her mother could do was yell at her. If she was going to do that then she should have gotten paid for it, along with the suggestion that perhaps she should stop spending so much time with her grandmother and work with her. Grandmother comforted her and kept her in her trailer as she recovered after a harsh exchange with her mother that lasted for an hour.
Her 'condition'. It had gotten her into (and out of) so much trouble in her life so far. "Bright eyed, intelligent, healthy and smart as a whip" her mother told her the doctor said that years later, after a stay in one town allowed her and grandmother to take her to the free clinic to see why she was the way she was. A genetic or birth defect of some type. Angela had considered going to a doctor in later years for more details and if anything could be done, but she had become accustomed to her silent existence. She could hear very well ('She can hear a cat fart across the field' her mother used to laugh) but her vocal chords never formed properly. She could not speak. Her mother had stolen a book about sign language from a bookstore that same day they had seen the doctor and had tried to teach her before becoming frustrated with it all. Her and her grandmother learned it together and it came in handy at times when they wished to share secret thoughts in plain view.
***more to come***
'…leave…'
She sat watching the rain as it pattered against the window of her shop. The steaming mug of tea sitting by her elbow as she felt the warning again. It had been happening for days now, a small inner voice telling her what she should be doing instead of just sitting here. Her last two appointments had canceled due to the weather and she had little hopes her next one would show up either, so she indulged in a bit of soul searching as she watched the rain beating against the glass. All things considered, it was probably the best advice she could have now since things were beginning to become…well, strange.
Angela Francezci's fingers twirled through her long curly black hair that had been streaked with hints of purple, red, and green on purpose. The colors accenting the long flowing bandanas and scarves she liked to wear along with the oversized blouse, shawl, and flowing peasant skirt. Fingerless long gloves covered her forearms also adorned with bracelets and bangles and rings to the point some said she actually jingled when she walked. But the gypsy image was not something to amuse her customers when they showed up for her services. It was her birthright as well. She had been a traveler since the day she was born as part of a modern day caravan of gypsies traveling from town to town. Her grandmother had told her she had arrived in the back of a van as they crossed the Oklahoma/Texas border one night and spent the next 17 years of her life accepting this roving lifestyle as totally normal.
She missed it, despite setting down roots and having what she had always dreamed of. Always a new town, a new place, new faces yet surrounded by old ones she could always trust and had loved. It was never an easy life to be sure. Gypsies were still treated in the modern age as they had been for centuries. Not that such treatment was not always undeserved. Many of their modern counterparts still felt the need and right to cheat, steal and lie to people for what they needed to continue, giving those others who simply sought freedom a bad reputation and hostile welcomes when they would roll into a town and try to rest for a few days. Her little clan had been a mixture of both honest sorts and thieves that worked together.
Lightening flashed causing her to blink. She sipped her tea and frowned at the view she had of the outside world. The security bars she had had installed over her windows spoiling the view from both sides of the glass. In the window, the little neon sign glowed on but she imagined it looked somewhat odd now with lines of iron back crossing the words. THE EYE OF ZODIAC it proclaimed along with a cartoonish image of a human eye that blinked open and closed. Vinyl lettering neatly placed below proclaiming 'Fortunes Told-Cards Read-Spiritual Advisor and Supplier-Curios'. 'Zodiac' had been the name her grandmother had given her when she had begun to groom Angela to be part of her own act. Her grandmother claimed she had 'the Gift' as well for such things and those who came to have their fortunes revealed enjoyed the novelty of a child who apparently was able to peel away the fog between the present and the future and past. Thunder now rolled across the afternoon skies as she played with her earring absently.
'…leave…'
She had done her share of that already in life. Traveling was still in her blood, but running was another matter. The only time she ever ran was when she had had enough of her mother and what was expected of her. She had been raised by both mother and grandmother. Grandmother had assured her that her father was of Romanian stock as her mother was ('A true gypsy' she had said) but she sometimes doubted that. Her last name- Francezci-was derived from an older form of the name Ferenk which was the name of the tribe of supplicants who served a man named Ferenczy who legend said was a familiar (and perhaps lover) of the legendary Countess known as Bathory. It made for good reading as far as she was concerned, but if it was true or not she couldn't say. Her grandmother was the fortune teller while her mother was one of the few who 'entertained' the fools who come to spend good money in more erotic ways. Her grandmother had made sure she could read and write as well as teaching her the craft. The most use her mother had for her was to clean up the van after an evening making money along with the laundry and other things.
Until one night when she was 16. She had gone to get food and drink for her grandmother when some of the more rowdy visitors saw a target of opportunity. She had never known a man and was suddenly educated to the violent extreme. Due to her unique 'condition' she could not cry out for help and was used several times before one of her own discovered the deed in progress and all hell broke loose in the camp that night. She learned much from that night. Justice was odd. It favored not the innocent who had been abused, especially gypsies. Terms like 'supposed' and 'implied' and 'vague' kept replacing what she swore was facts. 'Good old boys' was the term the local Sheriff kept using when he had arrived to describe her attackers. As far as she knew, those men never received punishment for their deeds. All her mother could do was yell at her. If she was going to do that then she should have gotten paid for it, along with the suggestion that perhaps she should stop spending so much time with her grandmother and work with her. Grandmother comforted her and kept her in her trailer as she recovered after a harsh exchange with her mother that lasted for an hour.
Her 'condition'. It had gotten her into (and out of) so much trouble in her life so far. "Bright eyed, intelligent, healthy and smart as a whip" her mother told her the doctor said that years later, after a stay in one town allowed her and grandmother to take her to the free clinic to see why she was the way she was. A genetic or birth defect of some type. Angela had considered going to a doctor in later years for more details and if anything could be done, but she had become accustomed to her silent existence. She could hear very well ('She can hear a cat fart across the field' her mother used to laugh) but her vocal chords never formed properly. She could not speak. Her mother had stolen a book about sign language from a bookstore that same day they had seen the doctor and had tried to teach her before becoming frustrated with it all. Her and her grandmother learned it together and it came in handy at times when they wished to share secret thoughts in plain view.
***more to come***