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           This is the tail, I mean,

tale of Madame Venestra, a fortune teller and mystic who used to inhabit these

parts. I knew her well, one might say very well, for I was her lover for a

short time. It started when she was in her twenties and I was a teen.            She was a lovely creature, soft of fur, sweet of the

lips, and noble in her looks. She was a badger through and through, except for

one defect. She had all the looks and all the attitude but only a third the

size. She was one of the stunted ones, those rare births that grow to a certain

point and then stop. Some folks call them dwarfs, or midgets, but she was never anything so crude in my eyes.            Because of this, she was ostracized from her own group when

she was of an age, to remove the blight of her condition from the rest of the

breeding pool. I think she was just as happy being away from them, but I knew

that in her kind heart she missed her family very much. Life can be so cruel.            I had heard stories about her and on the pretense of

having my fortune told I came to her camp. She lived like a gypsy, traveling

the area during the summer, and doing her best to survive during the winter.            My name is Ronald, and I'm a weasel. Badgers are cousins,

but the size difference and markings makes telling us apart rather easy. Still, it wasn't often you saw a badger. They were normally big and mean. The safest distance to keep from them was as far away as possible. We did just that, except for now.            I paid my silver and sat across the table from her. She

wasn't what I expected. She was shorter than I was, and a little broader in the

body. But she didn't have the stunted appearance I was expecting. Instead, she

looked more like a miniaturized version of my bigger cousins. And she was very

pretty. Well, she was to me. What did I know? I was only fourteen.            "Hello young man. And what can Madame Venestra do for

you?"            The funny thing was, all I had wanted to do was to see her.

I had no question. I sat there looking blankly at her for the longest time. She

patiently waited and watched me back.            "Young man, you seem to have lost your voice, or was

there some other purpose to your visit?"            I tried to speak, but the words fell silent.            She pulled out a crystal ball from under a cloth and set

it on the table. "I guess that today I must seek the question that is on your mind.

Then you can have your answer and be on your way."            I was staring at her. Her clothing was exotic, and while

I knew that it was more of a parlor trick, she did seem to be more exciting to

look at because of it. The beads, the scarves and the earrings all lent her and

air of mystery. And beauty. I was suddenly longing to see what was under those

layers of silk.            I took the opportunity to undress her with my eyes as she

was distracted, looking into her sphere of glass. What I imagined pleased me,

as it had pleased others before me. I was pulled from my reverie by a cough. It

was the fortune teller.            I could tell from the look she was giving me that I had

been found out. "Uhhhhh."            "You are such the orator young man. Many men have said

less with a dictionary's worth of words.  I have

looked into the mists of time and I have seen your question. The answer to your

question is yes."             I sat up straighter. I didn't even know I had a question.

Now I had an answer and I didn't know what it meant. The logical side of me

knew that she was a fraud, but there was a part of me that was curious to know

what she was talking about."            "But I didn't ask a question!"            "No, but still, you had one in your mind when I looked.

The answer to that question is yes."            I was only thinking about how she would look naked, and

wondered if she would ever do it with a guy like me. That couldn't be what she

was referring to...could it?            She was tapping her fingers lightly on the table. "I have

no other customers right now, so if you want to see if I'm a mind reader or

not, you can either follow me or head on home." She got up and went to the back

where there was a partition.            I felt a quiver in my lions. If I followed her, what

then? I finally made up my mind when it dawned on me that going home was always

an option, and the chance of going behind that flap would evaporate once I left. I got up and

stuck my head through.            It was cozy, and prettily decorated if a bit sparse. She

had a cot, a table, plenty of scarves and shawls, and a few other things like

decks of cards. She saw my head sticking through and smiled.            "So, I did answer your question then?"            "Uhhh, I'm not sure. Can you tell me what me question

was?"            "Silly boy! You wondered if a lady like me would bed a

boy like you. The answer is yes. The only thing remaining is whether or not you'll

go through with it."            Yes. She said yes to what I was thinking. I didn't know

if it was a cruel trick, so I jumped at the chance. If it was a joke, it would

be between us solely. "Yes ma'am. But how did you know what I was thinking?"            "All young men think the same thing when they see me.

Mostly the answer is no. I will not bed a man just so that he can beat his

chest and crow like a rooster after having me. I do not do it for money. I do

it when it feels right. You are young, but so was I once. I know what it's

like." She was removing her layers. She did it in a slow methodical little

dance, dropping pieces as she went. My whole body stiffened as I watched,

particularly one spot about midway.            When she was done, I was left standing there with my

mouth hanging open. I had never seen a lady naked before. She wasn't at all

what I would call deformed, only a small, perfect version of a normal badger.

In fact, to the untrained eye, she might even pass as a cub.            She moved around me, continuing her little dance. I

hardly noticed as she removed my clothing. When she got to my trousers, she

sounded delighted by what she found. "Oh my! You'll make some female happy when

you wed!"            I wasn't sure what she meant. I didn't have a lot of experience

seeing other guys because our community was pretty uptight along those lines; strict

upbringing and all that stuff. Apparently I had more than some guys from her

reaction. I suddenly felt better.            She dragged me to the cot and lay down first, pulling me

on top. I was all nerves, and thankfully she guided me to where I should put my

hands, my lips and my; well, you know. I had massaged my meat before, but this

was totally different. It was wet, and it was incredible and I never wanted to

leave.            I don't know how long we were together, but it was enough

to get me in trouble for being late for supper. I didn't care. I was floating

on cloud nine. I was walking on air. I went to my room and dreamed of her all

night long.            We met as much as we could after that. It was tough getting

away, and over time I was more conscious of how much time we spent together.

But all good things come to an end. I guess it was my fault, because being

young, I had no idea that my absences were being noted. One day we were in the

middle of a lovely tryst when the flap flew open. My father was standing there,

as was the local sheriff.            I was dragged back home and grounded for weeks. Venestra

was taken to jail for statutory rape, which infuriated me. After that, I tried

to run away from home and save her from her prison, but I was rebuffed at every

turn. I cried for days, knowing that her incarceration was because of me and my

carelessness.            But one day, my mood lightened. I came down the stairs,

and I could see my father reading the local paper in his favorite chair. The

back of it was to me, so I could see the headline quite clearly. Only later,

after he had crumpled up the paper and tossed it aside, did I get a chance to

read it. She had apparently used her wiles on one of the guards, knocked him

unconscious and fled. To this day, they have never found her. I don't think they're

still looking, but I know she'll never come back.            I saved the front page, and I now keep it in a frame on

my wall. I'm an adult now, but I have never forgotten her. She was my first,

and there has never been anyone since who has been better. Oh, and the

newspaper headline? I chuckle every time I read it.                                                                                                        "Prison Escape! Small Medium at Large."