The Blind Girl's Summons

 story & illustration by Marge Simon

     The pigeons moan when the Blind Girl calls, for she is hungry and will be wanting pigeon pie. It will be made by the old gypsy, servant of the Blind Girl.

    The Blind Girl is the last of her kind but she is not a witch, not those poor creatures who must burn for their sins. When she was a little one, the gypsy gave her an exotic doll. Legend tells he was a prince once, in his native land, but changed into a doll by dark powers. Wong-tse is her treasure, that is all we need to know.  She consults Wong-tse, then calls us in visions when our services are needed to purify our flock. Gladly we comply, for Wong-tse’s word is sacred.

    We try to please her with small things, whatever we can manage. I am embroidering a pillow for her with lilies that she can touch on the surface of the rough cloth, perhaps even feel their color. Eugene settles into his big chair to polish his spike. I watch as he brushes the chamois over the walnut pole until his fingers are stained darker than his skin.

    Last year, I brought her our first-born son for blessing. She ran her beautiful fingers over his face, and frowned. “Wong foretells your son will bring us shame when he is grown,” she said, wrapping her hands around his little neck and crushing his skull. But my husband was proud of me, I didn’t cry. We took his tiny body home and buried it deep.

    We are hers to bid, as a mother would have her children obey. Not a one of us dares question the situation, except for fools like Rafe, misshapen and foul mouthed, most often drunk. It was natural and right that his blaspheming head wound up at the sharp end of a pitchfork, providing supper for the crows.

    There is always a great feast and celebration and another head finds its way to Wong-tse’s spike, when the Blind Girl summons.

click to read

  THE ABANDONED

by Jeffrey Thomas

on the Freezine of

Fantasy and Science

FICTION