A Gypsy Song (The Eye of the Crystal Ball - The Wolfboy Chronicles) Read Free

on the quiet street for years, well, hardly ever come to think of it. So you really can’t blame the neighbors for the gathering, staring or talking in the street wearing nothing but their bathrobes on top of their pajamas.
    “What are those?” Mrs. Nieberman from number ten asked.
    “Like a circus or something,” Mrs. Hagenhoff from number eight replied.
    “No, nothing like that,” Mrs. Müller interrupted them with a satisfied expression. Didn’t she always say that there was something suspicious with that girl? Now they all knew.
    “They are gypsies.”
    A sound of fear and turmoil immediately emerged among the spectators. Everybody knew that no respectable town ever wanted gypsies around. They were thieves and beggars and the strangest things would always happen when they came around. Strange accidents and people dying for no apparent reason. They were all jinxed and meant bad luck for a town. That is what the rumor said, that is.
    And there was always some truth to a rumor. No one knew that better than Mrs. Müller.
    “We sure don’t want people like them around in our nice neighborhood,” Mrs. Nieberman said.
    “No, that would certainly be an atrocity,” Mrs. Hagenhoff said without even knowing what the word meant.
    “I will be damned if I am gonna just stand here and watch as thieves and beggars take over this town,” Mrs. Müller said while she walked with determination in the direction of the convoy. She knocked at the window of the front caravan and put her hands at the waist she used to have when she was younger.
    A young girl bearing a red sparkling scarf in her hair and golden earrings stuck her head out. She was no more than a child the shocked crowd realized.
    “Yes?” She smiled with bright white teeth in her beautiful and exotic looking dark face.
    Mrs. Müller was now so upset she snorted at the girl.
    “Young lady. We wish to talk to your parents immediately,” she said and looked back at the crowd of women with some satisfaction. If anyone could bring things back to order, it was her.
    “But I don’t have any parents,” the girl answered with another smile. “I am an orphan.”
    A sound of shock went through the crowd. Who were these people? they all seemed to be thinking. Who was taking care of that child when she didn’t have any parents? She should at least be at an orphanage where they would know how to take proper care of a situation like hers.
     “But sweet, little child, who is taking care of you then?” Mrs. Müller asked.
    “No one and everyone. We all take care of each other in our tribe.”
    Another wave of shock went through the crowd.
    “But certainly someone must be making the rules. You are, after all, only a child. Now tell me, who is making the rules in your tribe. Who is in charge?”
    The young girl pointed at the Schneider’s house where the door all of a sudden opened. Out came Mr. and Mrs. Schneider along with their daughter and two very strange looking people. A man and a woman as far as Mrs. Müller could tell. He was tall and dramatic in his appearance. She found his eyes wild and cruel and his right hand was constantly resting on the grip of a short curved dagger in his belt. On the top of his head he wore a red scarf around his black curly hair. His white shirt was opened so his black-haired chest with golden necklaces showed.
    Mrs. Müller put a hand on her chest.
    “My oh my,” she said and caught her breath.
    The woman was small and just as dark as him. She wore a sparkling dress with thousands of colors and patterns in it. Her scarf was purple and she, too, wore golden earrings. She was holding the little girl’s hand while talking to the Schneiders.
    Mrs. Müller stretched her neck in order to better hear what was said when Mrs. Schneider kneeled in front of little Sara.
    “You be a good girl now,” she said. “This is your real mother and father and they will bring you back to your people now.”
    “But Mom …”
    “Shh, now do as I