Get Into James Shorts - 37. The Gift Child

The Gift Child

The rain was pouring buckets on the muggy summer night. The midwife was gone, and a wet nurse had taken the baby to her breast.

The lifeless mother lay still on the bed where she had delivered her seventh son. What should have been a blessing for the family had turned into mourning.

The oldest boy of the household, a youth of twelve, answered the door. It was the person he had been dreading. There was no word for what she was exactly. Some might have called her a Voodoo Priestess, but that would have been very wrong, for her tradition and her people was so much older than that. The grown-ups never spoke of her, but she was highly respected. The boy had once heard her called strážce cest in the ancient and secret language none of the people were to ever utter to strangers. It meant the keeper of the ways.

"Mama Francois, thank you for coming."

The old crone in a black dress with silver jewelry entered the house. She put a hand on the boy's face and said, "I'm so sorry Remy. This was supposed to be a day of great joy, only to turn into one of such sorrow. Please now, I must see the child."

Remy dutifully led Mama Francois to the wet nurse. The young woman drew back the cloth, and the lamplight revealed the baby's delicate features as he nursed.

She put her hand on the baby's forehead and closed her eyes, and the child stilled at her touch and cooed.

The old woman stood stock still, as if her eyes traveled through time to see the things mortals were not supposed to see. This went on for what seemed to be some minutes, and then she sighed and panted as if she had performed some great exertion.

She said, "Remy, we must find a quiet place to talk, just you and me. There is something special about this baby. He will mean a great deal to our people."

After a bit of arranging and putting his younger siblings to bed, Remy sat on the front porch beside Mama Francois, who sat heavily in a rocking chair. She took a drink of strong spirits from a small sliver flask she had in her purse. She sat gathering her thoughts as if considering what she would say.

Finally, she said, "What do you know of our people, Remy?"

The boy answered, "We are Cajun farmers."

She asked, "Is that all?"

Remy said, "I know there is more to it, but I haven't been taught. I'm not thirteen yet."

The old woman considered and said, "Our people are ancient, Remy. We were old when the French Huguenots put us on ships and sent us off to Canada. Then to Louisiana and finally to here. In fact, we are not actually French. There's a reason that we never got along with the others, Remy. We look French, we speak French, but our souls are Romani."

Remy said, "I do not know what that is."

Mama Francois said, "Have you ever heard of Gypsies, Remy?'

The boy looked blank and said, "I have heard the word, but i don't know what it means."

Mama Francois said, "In the dark past the gypsies, or Romani, were wandering bands that traveled throughout Europe looking for a place to put down roots. Everywhere we would go there were already people, and they would drive us away. Even if we would find a place, soon they would drive us out. We were a hated and hunted people. The old bias against us still lives. There are places still in Europe that it is not safe for a Romani."

"Most of us would just try to fit in and that worked for some but, for those that still kept the old ways alive, we were never left in peace. There is a legend that in France, our people long ago sided with the English in a war with the French throne. Our reward was supposed to be land where we would be left alone."

Remy said, "Agincourt and Normandy."

Mama Francois said, "Excellent, Remy. Someone has been listening to the old tales. I approve. It was the breaking of this promise that forced us to the New World. First to Canada, Louisiana and finally to here. When that promise was broken, there was a prophecy by the woman who was then strážce cest that directly involves your baby brother. Has he been named?"

Remy said, "Mama planned to name him Thibault."

"Good. The prophecy is that our family and the family of the Nobleman who we gave allegiance to at Agincourt will once again come together. The seventh son of the seventh son of the seventh son, and so on; that child is the key to it all. Thibaut will be the gift child that will mend the rift between our houses, and we will finally be at peace."

Remy said, "How can this be Mama Francois?"

She sighed heavily and said, "I do not know Remy. Like a great deal of prophesy, it is mysterious but, it all lines up. There are great mysteries in this world, and this one would not be the strangest by far."

Remy asked, "Mama Francois, what does it mean?"

The old woman smiled and said, "It means that we are living in interesting times. If this prophecy is to be believed, our people, those of us remaining on this ridge, will finally have a home no one can take away from us."

"You are too young to head this house. I will ask Giscard Tourville to step in to help. We will all help but, for us all, guard your brother. Take good care of him. He is the key to our future."