Albert Torrence sat by the TV. He was watching a football game, but only half-heartedly. He'd been trying very hard to put the last few days' incidents behind him. The town was abuzz with the killer bear drawing ever closer, and Jack was understandably preoccupied with the deaths and disappearances, doing damage control in an ever more volatile situation.

All Albert wanted was some pleasant boredom, writing lesson plans, grading papers, getting drunk on Saturday might, telling lies and having skin that didn't feel like he had ants crawling under it.

Albert sat back and tried to get interested in the game. He was a Panthers fan, and this was one of the rare occasions when they were winning, yet somehow nothing seemed to matter. All he wanted was for his personal mess to be resolved, for things to get back to normal.

The phone rang.

"Hello, Albert Torrence." He answered.

"Hi, Al."

"Jack, what can I do for you?"

"Well, I need your help. I was up at the swamp today, you know, where we went hunting this weekend."

Albert didn't feel the elucidation was necessary. "Good," he was glad that Jack was finally pursuing the matter.

"Not good."

"Stop talking in riddles, Jack. Did you find the body or didn't you?"

"Not ours, but the pieces of a dozen or so others."

"What?!"

"The hunting party. George Travers, remember the redneck brigade? Torn to pieces. This isn't a bear. I've called in for state help."

Albert was on the verge of shock, "Dear God, I can't believe it.

"It's true."

"What can I do?" Albert asked.

"We found teeth and pieces of jaws. We could use your help assisting Doc Crosby compare them with dental records to ID the remains. He's old and slow and was a little freaked out when I called him. I can't afford to have one of my deputies hold his hand, so you'd be doing me a real favor."

"Sure," Albert said in a stunned tone.

"Sorry to lay this on you, Al. It's hell over here. Why don't you drop by later, and I'll give you what we got to take over to Doc Crosby."

"Give me what you got?" Albert thought about the men.

"It's no more than a couple of buckets full."

"Great," Al felt ill.

"See you later then."

"Sure," said Al as he hung up. He was ready for the itching by now and hardly noticed as the Panthers scored another touchdown.

The news of the slaughter of the hunting party shook Albert. Until now he had been preoccupied with the shooting accident and had ignored the animal attacks. He felt very guilty and wondered how Jack was handling the situation. He was not friendly with the victims, but he had known them most of his life. The fact that that he had just seen them weighed heavily on his conscience.

He was about to head to the Sheriff's office when the phone rang. He answered. It was Ethelinda.

"Hey Albert, horrible news about those hunters."

"Yeah, it's frightening. I'm almost afraid to leave the house."

He heard a chuckle over the phone. "Well, that's awkward since I'm about to pick you up."

"Pick me up? Why?" He asked.

"I spoke to my grandmother about your question about angels and she told me to bring you over immediately. It wasn't a request, it was a demand."

"What does she want?" Albert was genuinely curious.

"She didn't say, but she's not a woman to be refused. I'll be over in fifteen minutes."

Albert didn't argue. "Where are we going?"

"The colony."

Albert was shocked and the tone in his voice reflected that fact, "The colony? They don't very much like outsiders there. Are you sure it's all right?"

"No one argues with my grandmother. See you soon."

The colony had been in existence in some form for nearly two hundred years. It had changed location several times in that period, always moving away from the center of town as the town grew. It was the home of the Traveler families, originally just a field with tents and wagons, but now a combination trailer park and campsite with a few actual houses just to give it a sense of permanence.

What Albert said was true. It was unusual for a outsider to visit, the families living there were very suspicious of strangers and for good cause. The Travelers had been persecuted and discriminated against for as long as they had lived here. They resented it, but accepted it, it was a fact, no matter where in the world they settled or passed through. 

The ride to the colony was quiet. Ethelinda could see that Albert was disturbed by recent events and didn't engage in any conversation. When they arrived, she pulled past the various trailers and up to one of the pleasant homes further in. Albert could sense the curious and distrustful gaze of numerous eyes, both out in the open and watching from behind drawn curtains.

"Are you sure it's all right me being here?" Albert asked.

Ethelinda laughed loudly, "God Al, we're Romani, not zombies, nobody's going to attack you."

Albert felt embarrassed. "Sorry," he said meekly.

"Don't worry about it. Now let's go on in. My grandmother is named Rosamund and that's what she likes to be called."

"Okay, what did you tell her about me?"

Ethy smiled, "I told her you were a good man."

The inside of the home was very pleasant and homey. Ethelinda escorted Albert into the living room where her grandmother sat in a comfortable looking over-stuffed chair. She was a very dignified looking lady in her mid eighties, with silver hair and sharp piercing green eyes. She wore a pretty blue taffeta dress and motioned Albert to sit on the couch opposite her. There was a steaming teapot and cups on the table between them. Albert sat and she leaned forward and poured the three of them some tea.

"So Albert," she asked, "is Traveler Park everything you expected?"

"Well, Rosamund" Albert pronounced her name very carefully, " I didn't really know what to expect. I've lived in Sherman's Bane my entire life and I've never been out here."

Rosamund let out a hearty laugh, "Not surprising, very few outsiders have. We Gypsies are a suspicious lot." She saw the look of surprise on Albert's face, "I know that 'Gypsy' is a term frowned upon these days, but I've always preferred it, it sounds romantic. It has some dreadful connotations, I know, but I'm old so no one gives me any grief about it."

"You don't like Traveler?" Albert asked.

Rosamund harrumphed, "Sounds like something you would name a horse. Do you know where the word 'Gypsy comes from?"

"I never really thought about it," Albert answered while taking a sip of his tea.

"My people used to be called Egyptians way back when, then just Gyptians, then Gypsies. It's funny because we were originally from India."

"That I knew." Albert said brightly.

"That's right, you and my Ethy are writing a book about our people."

"We are."

A look of sorrow crossed Rosamund's features, "People have always hated us. We are the eternal outsiders. We are blamed for every evil. In the old country, we were accused of spreading disease, burned as witches, hunted as thieves," she sniggered, "mind you we were occasionally guilty...we had to survive and we provided a great service to the towns we passed through."

"You were tinkerers, and knife-sharpeners, and fortune-tellers, and entertainers," Albert offered.

Rosamund smiled, "Those too, but the service we offered was being scapegoats for everything. Nothing brings a village together better than a common enemy you can blame for everything wrong in your life. There is a reason the Nazis sent us to concentration camps alongside Jewish people and gays. We, like them,were always the 'others'."

Albert remained quiet, not knowing what to say.

"I'm sorry, Albert, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

"No, I just think it all so terribly unfair how ignorant and cruel people can be."

"Not all people, my dear," Rosamund smiled sweetly, "Now drink some more tea and let me tell you a story about angels"