Tataga's Children: Fairy Tales by Grozdana Olujic

Copyright © 2000 by Jascha Kessler.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

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Contents

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

TATAGA’S CHILDREN

THE MAN WHO WENT LOOKING FOR HIS FACE

PARROTS AND SHEEP

THE EMPRESS & THE FLOWER

THE MIRROR

THE CELESTIAL RIVER

A STORY ABOUT A LEAF

ROSE OF MOTHER-OF-PEARL

GOLDEN FINGERS

THE STORY OF THE WATER LILY

THE DANDELION

RED POPPIES

THE MOON FLOWER

THE LITTLE TRAIN

THE GOLDEN DISH

THE SPARROW’S GIFT

THE PRINCESS AND THE BOY

THE MAN WHO CHEATED DEATH

THE LOST KEY

THE MAGIC BROOM

THE BEWITCHED BURR

THE WHITE MOLE

THE SEA GULLS’ ROCK

TRANSLATOR’S NOTE:

ABOUT THE AUTHORS

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

Some of these stories have appeared in print in English. The Mirror in TRANSLATION; The Seagulls’ Rock in MARGIN. The Rose of Mother-of-Pearl as a chapbook in the Hot Chocolate Series from Coffee House Press (Handset, illustrated and hand painted by Kathy Jacobi).

In 1997 The Man Who Cheated Death won First Prize for Children’s Literature from the World Academy of Arts & Letters. (In manuscript.)

TO CHILDHOOD, OUR ONCE

AND FUTURE CHILDHOOD

TATAGA’S CHILDREN

An old woman they called by the name of Tataga lived at the edge of town, out where the street ran into corn fields beneath the bright dome of the sky. How had she built her house? When had she come, and where had she come from? How old was she? What was her true name? No one knew the answers, and anyway no one cared. All the children ran after her, just as their parents and their grandparents before them had run, calling out, Tataga! Tataga!

The old woman was never angry at them. Why should she be?

She would appear now and then like a wandering flame. She would say never a word, but only give forest fruits to the children. When winter arrived and the town was shut in by snow and ice, the children would leave food at Tataga’s door. Nobody had ever gone inside though. And so it went on, year after year.

Children were fond of Tataga, and Tataga was kind to them.

Tataga! Tataga! they cried, waving their hands at her, while she smiled at them and shuffled away into the dark forest. What did that deaf-and-dumb woman do in there? The neighbors were always curious about that. And what did she carry in that sack of hers, which was always full? That sack that was always with her, and so this saying came about: They stick together just like Tataga and Tataga’s sack!

She always wore the same dress; she was always bent over; and she always carried her sack when she disappeared into the woods before the morning dew had covered the ground. She would return home only as the evening sky swallowed up the trees. She would light her candle then. Yet no one ever knew what she did all night, because no one was ever allowed inside her house.

People were suspicious, and spied on her. Maybe she’s doing witchcraft! The shutters of her house were always closed and locked. And as soon as she turned into the forest Tataga simply vanished, as though it had covered her steps and wrapped her in shadow. Yet, one of the most stubborn trackers noticed the birds and creatures of the woods would eat from her hands and follow after her. No wonder the word went around that she was a sorceress, which made folks more than ever curious.

Whispering to each other, her neighbors wondered, Does she know the language of birds and beasts? Their whispers grew louder everywhere, until the Town Council had to take the matter up and call a meeting. Someone proposed that Tataga should be driven away; but most of the Council voted that down. One of the oldest Councilors, who had heard lots of things during his many years, asked these gossips, Who actually knows if the stories about Tataga’s witchery are true? Just because she’s followed by animals doesn’t mean she is guilty of wrongdoing. When this town was settled long, long ago, there was a lonely old man who understood the speech of animals—but he also knew where to find medicinal herbs!

It was nonetheless resolved that Tataga should be watched, and who better could spy on her than two crafty, sharp-eyed young men? Even in the thickest part of the forest Tataga would not elude them!

Yet no sooner had Tataga stepped into the woods than she was gone. Then, after she was home again, her candle would burn to all hours.

Someone suggested, Perhaps the children might find out what she does? She likes children, and only they can go near her.

Still, the children refused to spy on Tataga. The people on her street were surprised. Why were the children so loyal to that old woman? True, she gave them nuts and berries; yet there must be more to it than that! Suspicion blazed up and ran about like fire. How had Tataga set the children in thrall to her?

The neighbors tracked the old woman the way ants follow a trail of sugar, until they finally discovered that she would dig up stumps and stick them in her sack. But what did she do with them then? Smoke never came out of her chimney, so there must surely be something else she did. What could it be? Sorcery uses a bat’s wing, a snake’s tooth, an owl’s feather. Perhaps Tataga wasn’t a witch, after all. Then why do wild animals follow her? Why does the forest hide her?

Years and years went by, like the leaves dropping from birch trees.

Did Tataga know she was followed? If so, she kept her secret to herself. So it might forever have remained, had not a terrible winter of fierce storms descended upon the town. Everywhere windows were covered by flowers of ice. The snow was so deep that people could hardly pass along the streets.

The children worried. How is Tataga? What will she get to eat? The girls and boys clambered through the heaped up snowdrifts, carrying dishes of food for Tataga. Yet still they worried. Does she take her food in, or are the cats and dogs stealing it? Her windows were blocked by a lacy curtain of ice. No one could tell if there was any life inside.

Then one of the girls found that by pressing a loaf of hot bread against Tataga’s window a clear, round peephole appeared in the pane. The girl looked through and saw people moving here and there. As she peered, she found herself staring into two bright eyes set in a small, round face wrapped in a flowered kerchief. That couldn’t be Tataga! The little girl looked again. Someone nodded to her in a friendly way. The little girl peeped through another window. Am I dreaming? she thought. Tataga has no children. She has always lived alone! Where did those children come from?

The little girl gazed through the first one again, and the tiny, bright creature behind the pane winked happily at her.

Well, Tataga’s house seems to be full children! The little girl went round to Tataga’s door. It was open. How long before she could make out what was inside—a minute, or was it an eternity? And then the little girl uttered a cry. All about her, everywhere, were girls, hundreds of tiny girls, and wearing many-colored skirts. They were skipping, they were hopping and laughing and singing.

Looking closer, the little girl made out that they were wooden dolls, although not like the ones that came on birthdays. These were special dolls, Tataga’s dolls, and their voices rang like little, silver bells. And their faces surprised her even more—they were all different! One doll’s face looked exactly like her own sister. Another had her best friend’s face. A third looked like her brother, and the face of the fourth doll was… her very own! The little girl gave a shout of amazement, and one of the tiny creatures put a finger to her lips and said, Ssh! Tataga’s sleeping!

So what! said the little girl loudly. She can’t ever hear anything when she’s awake!

"Is that what you think? said the doll with her sister’s face, and she came nearer. Tataga does not hear what she doesn’t wish to hear. She never hears grownups. But she hears us very well, and she hears… ."

"Who are you?" said the little girl, her eyes big and round. The doll laughed at her.

"Who are we? Can’t you see? We’re Tataga’s children! You mustn’t tell a soul about us. Tataga carves our hands and legs for years, and then gives us your faces because she loves you all—just as she gave them the faces of your parents long ago. Look at that little one by the stove: who does she look like?"

Squinting, the little girl looked long and hard, yet couldn’t guess who that one might be. Finally she declared, There’s no girl in our street like that!

Look closely at her eyes and her nose!

Oh! the little girl gasped, pressing her hand to her mouth.

It seems you’ve guessed it’s Tataga! When she was as small as we are… , the doll smiled, warning her visitor it was a secret. As for the loaf, thank you! Tataga will eat it when she wakes up. But remember if you want to see us again, you must keep this as our most secret secret!

The little girl tiptoed from Tataga’s house utterly bewildered. It was a brilliant, snowy white day outside. The shrubs and street sparkled with glory, the snowflakes glinted like stars. She breathed the sharp cold air in deeply and promised herself she would tell no one about Tataga’s children. Nevertheless, no sooner was she was once more at home, and despite herself, she burst out, I saw Tataga’s children!

"You saw what?" asked her mother, her eyes widening with wonder.

The little girl paled and whispered, I cant tell you.

Didn’t you just now tell me you saw Tataga’s children? And don’t we all know that Tataga has no children? Why are you telling me fibs? Her mother frowned and the little girl began to cry. She cried until nightfall. She cried even as she dreamed, saying over and over, I did not fib! I saw them! I saw Tataga’s children with my very own eyes!

Her mother signed to her husband that he should go over to Tataga’s house to learn the truth of this affair. The child had never lied before; even if this was just a little tale, it really was too much.

The little girl’s father called on his neighbor, and the pair of grownups, black with suspicion, went softly to Tataga’s. The candle was lighted as always, and as always her door was locked. Her father smashed the lock with one blow; but the door stayed tightly shut, so he knew his axe was needed.

When at last the two men broke in, they froze in their tracks, unable to believe their eyes. The room was full of children. Suddenly they all ran out of the house, and started to rise to the sky. Then Tataga ran out after her flock of children, clapped her hands smartly and as though that was a sort of signal, they all began to fly.

The little girl’s’ father snatched at some of the children, but they were already too high for him. Over the roof they flew, all of them, all together with Tataga, and disappeared in the blink of an eye.

No one ever saw them again.

Now, when nights are cold and clear, if they look to the west, the children who live on Tataga’s street can see a flock of many-colored stars, with one big, bright star beside them, rising higher and higher above the edge of the sky.

And they know that Tataga and her children are still flying, flying, flying far away from them.

THE MAN WHO WENT LOOKING FOR HIS FACE

A woodcutter once came to town to sell his logs. He stood in the market place all day long, but nobody bought from him. People’s faces drifted by like autumn leaves: some