Fable

Name: Fable Lunaria
Age: 9
Race: Caucasian
Looks: Long wavy light-brown hair, blue eyes, somewhat tan. Wears a long red skirt and white short-sleeved blouse for shows, but wears an over-sized t-shirt and ripped leggings the rest of the time. Has a pair of gold hoop earrings in all of the time.
Anything else?: She is a gypsy, her father the gypsy king, and her mother is one of the king’s ladies. Fable tells fortunes at the gypsy fair which travels across the country every year.

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I smudged some dirt onto my cheeks and across the forehead of the baby in my arms. I’d learned from past experiences that the worse off we looked the more money we raked in.
“Remember to cry,” I whispered to Joseph, the baby I was holding.
He made a face but said nothing in reply.

I took in a deep breath and settled myself in a seated position on the corner of a busy street. People in fancy outfits walked past me without even looking down and for a moment I felt no hope. Suddenly though someone’s thoughts were shoved into my head and I knew this woman, whoever she was, would help me out.

“Oh, your poor little darlings, where’s your mum?” A tall, plump woman with a huge purse stopped right at my feet.
I looked up with sad eyes. “Momma’s home sick and we don’t have any money,” I lied.

The lady began to search her purse and pulled out a handful of bills. She peeled a couple off of the stack and placed them in my hand.
“Here you go, darling. Make sure to get yourself something to eat. You look starved!” she exclaimed.
“Bless you,” I replied. “Thank you so much.”
“Never you mind, darling. You just take care now, alright? Take care of your mum and that poor infant.”

The woman walked away with a troubled look on her face and I began to count the bills in my hand. Twenty dollars! Momma will be happy.
“You hear that, Joe? We’ve got money! Now we just need a little more...” I mumbled.

A couple hours later, we’d only managed to pull in five more dollars, but at least it was something. I put baby Joe in the bag on my back, making sure his head was near the opening, and started walking back to camp.

I could see smoke rising from our area and I knew someone had started a fire. Probably one of my uncles. Tonight we’d dance, as this was the last night we had before we’d start the fair.

“Fable! The money, Fable!” Momma ran over to where I was standing.
“Twenty-five, Momma. How did I do?” I asked her.
She paused, thinking hard. “You did good, child. Now go find Joe’s mom. He needs to eat.”

I carefully made my way across camp to find Farah’s trailer. She was sitting outside, nursing her other baby, Jessica, Joe’s twin.

“Farah!” I called out as I walked over to her.
“Fable, how did you do?” she asked with a smile.
“I did good.” I handed Joseph to her. “Momma said so.”

She placed Jessica in the cradle and let Joe latch on to her breast. I sat down at her feet, happy to be back with my people.

“Can you wait ‘till the fair?” I asked.
Farah chuckled. “It’s always the same, these fairs. We put on a show, take in the money. The same places every year. The same people. I feel if you’ve seen one, you’ve seen them all.”
“I don’t know, they’re really fun. I mean, sometimes I feel bad for tricking people… but sometimes I learn a lot from their memories.” I grinned.
“Ah, you and your special gift. You are a true Gypsy, chahvi,” she told me, using the Romani word for ‘child’.

I spoke a little Romani, the native tongue for Gypsies, as did most of our troupe. Momma told me at one time all we spoke was Romani, not the American English so many of us call ‘our’ language.
I wish I knew more of the world, but all I’ve ever needed is here with my Kumpania, my group of Gypsies, my family.

“Fable, your momma needs you,” Ezrik said in a sing-song voice as he ran over to me.
I sighed. “Coming...”

Farah gave me a quick pat on the head.
“You’re a good girl, Fable. One of the best. Sometimes I think you deserve more than this.”