Return to Tutu and Wichita Weaving part two.
Oma awoke feeling refreshed and energised. She got out of bed and went to the washroom to clean up. Thought about taking a cool shower, then decided against it; there was just too much to do, too many preparations to make. She had to get the Sinti council together ; the destruction of last night's Shadowman had to be reported and discussed. Though Keeper of the Weave, she still answered to the council of Elders.
Having eaten nothing all morning save a rice crispy square, she decided to make herself a sandwich first. After gathering together some left-over chicken, a few leaves of cool crisp lettuce, a tomato and two thick slices of freshly baked bread spread lightly with butter and mayonnaise, Tutu poured herself a tea and sat down to eat.
Later, she called Victor Tuberoff and told him to set up a meeting with the council for eight o'clock.
"How did it go last night?" he asked in his deep German accent. As Sinti they both spoke Romany, an Indic language, but it was mixed with German terms and so bespoke their origins.
"Not good," Oma said. And that was putting it mildly. She pushed the image of the ravaged, tattered and dead Shadowman to the back of her mind.
"I see."
There was silence on the other end and Oma could picture the worried look on Tuberoff's dark, bearded face. "I'll tell the council all about it."
"All right," He paused and cleared his throat. "Did you...?"
"Yes, I wove another. He's out searching right now."
"Good. I'll see you tonight then," and he hung up.
Oma glanced at the clock. It was just past five and she realised Tutu would be returning for supper within the hour and she hadn't prepared a thing. Dealing with the Eleven was number one on her list of priorities, but she took her responsibilities of being Tutu's surrogate mother very serious. She owed her true mother that much.
She decided to make a rabbit stew since that was the only meat she found unthawed. Chopping the ingredients up into a pot, she set it onto the stove and wondered for the hundredth time since waking from the nap, whether or not to take Tutu to the meeting tonight..
Tutu, she thought while setting the dinner table, sweet innocent Tutu. After this week she would be changed forever, if she even survived. Hell, if any of them survived. Last night's encounter did not bode well. The Eleven had grown stronger during its eleven hundred year hiatus. Much stronger than any of them suspected. The Shadowman had burst due to her ignorance. She promised herself never to underestimate their eternal foe again.
In defence, she really hadn't known what to expect. What little knowledge she did have was garnered from the satchel and from tales told to her by her mother who in turn was told by her ancestors and so on down the line.
The last time the Eleven stepped into this world, he caused widespread death and destruction. His presence brought plague and pestilence. If it weren't for a handful of Sinti and Rom with the help of the Weave, mankind would have been sentenced forever to the Dark Ages. Now he was here and accompanied once again by a new, deadly disease which had already claimed millions of lives. She could only hope there was still time, that the Eleven had not yet reached maturity.
This brought her back to Tutu. She was so young, not even eighteen yet. We may not have the luxury of waiting for her time of ascension, Oma thought. Last nights outcome proved the Eleven had almost reached maturity. Tutu would have to be ready and if that meant early ascension then so be it. It was not only the Eleven they had to prepare for but his minions, those of the Vampyre who worshipped, protected and were ruled by him. Tutu would have a test to pass, Oma prayed she'd be more successful than her real mother.
With that decided she gathered up the items necessary for tonight's events and then sat down with a cup of tea and waited for Tutu to come home.
----
Inside the Mall, Tutu and Steffan shared a frosty mug of rootbeer from the A & W at the fastfood section. Saturday was a busy time for this place, it bustled with shoppers, tourists and just those who like themselves wanted a break from the stifling heat. The greasy aroma of fried food permeated the place.
Steffan had asked Tutu about her morning's experience and she answered all his questions but, sensing her discomfort, he decided to change the subject.
"Too bad about the movie."
Sipping from the straw, Tutu nodded.
"I guess we could always sneak in tomorrow." he said, taking a turn at the drink. "So, what do you feel like doing?"
At the table next to them a couple were arguing over the cost of cigarettes.
Tutu shrugged. "I guess we could check out the new CDs."
"I don't have much money though, do you?"
"No, but we can just browse."
He slurped the last of the rootbeer. "Ok, let's motor."
She tossed the empty cup into the trash bin and followed Steffan into Sam the Record Man. It was crowded. Steffan recognised one of his school buddies and waved him over.
"Hey Gunter, how's it hanging?"
Gunter was short, fat and his face cratered with acne. He took off his thick lensed glasses and wiped his sweaty forehead with a filthy red handkerchief.
"Bout an inch off the ground, amigo. How're you doin'?"
Steffan shrugged, grinning. "About as good as a one legged man in an ass kicking contest." This was a ritual between them, each trying to outdo the other in quips. He pulled Tutu forward. "You know Tutu don't you?"
"Only from a distance, I assure you," and he extended a firm but dirty hand. Then, noting Tutu's reluctance, wiped them off on his equally filthy jeans and tried again. "Pleased to meetcha, the name's Gunter Stang, but I have to question your judgment if you hang around with this lowlife."
Tutu grinned and this time, shook his hand. She recognised him from the trailer park and didn't want to be rude.
Steffan poked Gunter in the ribs. "Who you calling a lowlife, you...you computer nerd you?"
"Oooh, great comeback mon ami. Bet it hurt coming up with that one." Gunter laughed.
"Stang...Stang," Tutu interjected lest they go on forever. "I think I met your parents one night. If I remember right, didn't they come over to Omas' for some counselling?"
Gunter's smile turned into a frown. "The Witchlady, you know the Witchlady?"
"Yeah, she's my grandmother."
"And she ain't no Witchlady either, shithead." Steffan said.
Gunter put back the CD he'd been holding and stuffed his hands into his pockets. His eyes studied the tips of his worn loafers. "Sorry, didn't mean anything by it. It's just what everybody calls her." He paused, then looked back up at Tutu. "You got to admit she is a bit spooky though."
"Yes, I guess she is but it's not nice to call someone names. You wouldn't like it."
"You're right, I wouldn't, but I have been called a few. Right, monsewer?" Smiling once again, he took a playful swing at Steffan.
"None you didn't deserve, pus nuts."
"Bite me."
"So how are your parents anyway?" Tutu asked, slowly leading them out of the music store.
"Ok, I guess. They were thinking of splitting up, but after talking to the Wit...your grandmother, they've decided to work it out."
They stopped in front of the Mall's exit.
"That's great." Tutu remembered the plump couple who had seemed so sad and lost. She took Steffan's hand and held it tightly by her side.
Steffan smiled. Something caught the corner of his eye, but when he turned to check it out all he saw was a woman fighting to free a shopping cart. "So where you headed?" he asked, turning back to Gunter."
Gunter looked at his watch and shrugged. "It's almost five so I'd better be heading' home if I want any dinner."
"Geez, we'd better get home too." said Tutu. "Why don't you walk with us?"
"Sure."
Steffan was a bit disappointed, he wanted to spend some time alone with Tutu. Then again he could probably sneak out and meet her secretly after dark. He turned to go and noticed the shopingcart lady had disappeared. Strange, she'd been there only seconds ago. He looked around. There was the usual assortment, kids on skate boards, young mothers pushing baby carriages, four or five men smoking and wearing Stetsons and cowboy boots, an elderly woman trailing her dog, but no sign of the lady.
Puzzled, Steffan followed Tutu and Gunter out of the parking lot and onto the sidewalk. "Tutu, do you think we could meet down by the dumpster tonight around eight?"
"Aaah, a little moonlight sonata, eh, mon cheri." Gunter said. They all laughed.
"I guess I can try." Tutu said, although she didn't like the idea of sneaking around behind Oma's back. Hell, if Steffan was willing to incur the wrath of his parents, who were even stricter than Oma, who was she to worry.
With Tutu and Steffan in the lead, Gunter followed them off the street and onto the gravel road which led to and through the trailer park. Suddenly he came to an abrupt halt. "Look!" he shouted to the others. He was pointing across the street at the kiddies park.
"What?" they both asked in unison. They couldn't see what was so important, just a few kids flying a kite, one playing in the sandbox and a dog giving chase to a tossed frisbee.
"I don't see nothing, do you?" Steffan turned to Tutu. She shook her head. They waved Gunter on and waited for him to catch up. "What's wrong?'' they asked when he ran up huffing.
He held up a hand and bent over to catch his breath. "The tree," he said pointing back at the park. "The elm tree. Don't you see? It's gone. Vanished."
"He's right." Steffan said and grabbed Tutu's hand. "Come on, let's check it out."
Garnering a few angry car horns, they raced across the street, up the grassy knoll to the spot where the elm had been rooted. They expected to find a hole but the only thing marking the spot was a large, circular patch of dead, brittle grass. It was as if the tree never existed.
"This is the spot, right?" Steffan asked Tutu.
She looked around at their surroundings, then nodded. "Yes, I think so. Look, there's the sandbox and slide, and over there are the swings. The tree should be right here between them."
"Then where is it?"
She kicked at the brown lifeless grass. The ground was hard and unyielding. "I don't know." she said, frowning.
Steffan got down on his knees and tugged up a handful of the coarse grass. They were firmly rooted in the soil as if they'd always been there. He let the wind blow it out of his palm. This was crazy, trees don't just walk away.
"Gunter when did..." He looked around. His friend was nowhere in sight. "Where'd he go?"
Tutu shook her head. "I didn't see him. Maybe he went home."
"Yeah maybe." He spotted a kid playing in the sandbox and recognised him as being the same one who'd been there earlier while he and Tutu sat under the elm. He walked over and knelt beside the little boy. Steffan figured the boy was only about five years old so he glanced around for the boy's parents but he appeared to be here alone.
"Hiya kid," he said. "You live around here?"
The boy looked up at him with bright blue eyes and brushed back a lock of his curly black hair with a hand speckled in sand. "Uh huh." he nodded and went back to pushing his big, yellow Tonka truck.
"Where abouts?"
The boy raised a grimy hand and pointed toward the trailer park.
"Hey, I live there too. My name's Steffan, what's yours?"
The kid looked up again. "My dad tole me never to talk to strangers."
Steffan grinned and the kid grinned back.
"Well that's pretty good advice."
"I know," the kid said.
"But now that I told you my name, if you tell me yours we won't be strangers anymore, will we? "
"Guess not." He stopped pushing his truck. "My name's Lucas Santoni."
"It's a real pleasure to meet ya Lucas." This time he brushed back the boy's hair. "Tell me Lucas, would you happen to know where the tree went?"
Lucas stopped playing and stood up, brushing the sand off his denim coveralls and hands. He turned to the patch of dead grass. "Yup," he said. "The shadow ate it."
Tutu who'd been quietly listening, bent down to Steffan. "What did he say?"
"He said the shadow ate it." It made no sense. The only shadow he knew was a comic strip character. The kid must've gotten confused or perhaps only The Shadow did know. That amusing thought was shattered when he saw the look of horror on Tutu's face.
An icy fist squeezed her heart. She found it hard to breath. Knew she had to get away from here. Didn't know why, only that she must leave--now, immediately.
"What is it? What's wrong?" Steffan asked. She was scaring him. He took her hand, it was ice cold.
"I...I......I don't know. I gotta go." And before Steffan could stop her, she took off toward the trailer park.Crossing the road she was almost hit by a pickup truck. The driver rolled down his window and swore at her. She didn't even slow down.
"Don't forget, eight o'clock." Steffan shouted, but he didn't think she heard him.
After making sure the boy would be alright, Steffan decided he may as well go home too. The mysteries of the disappearing tree and Tutu's odd behavior would have to wait till later. Dark clouds had rolled in and unnoticed till now, it was getting cold, freezing in fact. This in the middle of July too. Steffan shook his head, it's been a strange day all around, Steffan thought, carefully crossing the road.
Behind him, in the park, the little boy's shadow disappeared.
© 1995 by Dietmar TrommeshauserTo be continued . . .