Memory of the Past: Salome's Oath

Many years ago, nothing but broken trees grew here. Only the river under the cliffs rushed wildly while everything stood still. Then, a band of gypsies drove in with their camels and mules. Scholars of the unseen, practitioners of the Unknown. It did not take long for them to realize that this was the land of the world beyond.

The gypsies stayed for a fortnight. They knew of the trouble that came from prolonging their stay among the Unseen. Salome, the only child among the gypsies, almost a young woman, was tired of this life and she hated the menacing Village Leader. She’d been through sticks and stones: brief periods of starvation, beatings, and unkind orders. Her reality seemed harsher than the desert climes.

One night, the nomads were asleep, and Salome had been wide awake contemplating her escape. In the dead, desert night, all was still. Then, she felt it—a tap on her shoulder.

The happy children huddled around her, and, for the first time, Salome sensed she was home. Home. She’d heard this word in her travels, but it hadn’t made sense until now. Salome couldn’t believe her eyes. She thought she was in a dream. The garden around her, luscious, different from the desert landscape she’d been accustomed to. She pinched herself several times, but then succumbed to the children in a game of tag. 

Once the game was over, a child with playful eyes and docile manner offered her a flower and his hand. He was gentle with Salome—a strange sensation to a child accustomed to a life of toil. The led her to the sparkling river. Her urge to drink it was uncommonly strong.

“Wake up, wake up!” the Village Leader hollered into Salome’s ears. She sprung from the sweet dream. “Stubborn child, I told you to cover your feet. Now they come to get you.” As punishment for disobeying orders, he stripped Salome naked and whipped her. As she cradled herself on the ground, she felt several lashes bite into her skin. She tried to picture the flower from the dream, the one the beautiful boy offered her.

Behind the Village Leader, the men and women cowered and mumbled softly to one another. No one dared to stop him. No one did anything; they simply watched. This was the gypsy life; this was a lesson to be learned from.

Salome felt herself on the brink of death. She wished for it all to end. Then, the wind whirled around her, and in the eye of the storm, the child watched the miracle happen, the miracle that saved her and her descendants. Salome heard the fury of the storm howl: Her death shall not be in your hands.

When Salome awakened, she felt the sores on her body and complete desolation. She picked herself off the ground and swore to repay her debt. The girl would make a home, a place for both Seen and Unseen, where dream and reality were one and the same. A huge task lay ahead of her, but she had all the tools she needed to build a life anew.