I Walk in Dread (9780545388047) Page 11

  After the sermon, Abigail Williams claimed that there were forty witches in the parsonage meadow holding a Devil’s Supper. They were using raw meat for the bread of Christ and red blood for the wine. Goody Cloyse and Goody Goode were the deacons. “Oh, Goodwife Cloyse!” Abigail exclaimed. “I did not think to see you here! Is this a time to receive the sacrament? You ran away on the Lord’s Day, and scorned to receive it in the Meeting House, and is this a time to receive it? I wonder at you!”

  The congregation was aghast that the witches would mock the sacred communion while good Christians were fasting and praying. In my opinion it was Abigail who did the mocking, by speaking such a thing.

  Why does the crowd still choose to hear the voices of the girls instead of the voice of reason? I believe that God has spoken the truth through Goody Corey, Goody Cloyse, John Proctor, old man Jacobs, and the few others who say the girls should not be believed. It seems that the girls are the only ones who pay close attention to those who criticize them, and then look what happens! How long will it be now before old man Jacobs trades in his canes for chains?

  Friday ye 1st of April

  The landlord came. The money went. I spent the day getting the garden ready to plant, turning manure and crushed bones into the soil. Mem helped for part of the morning, until her lungs gave out. Now I am so tired, even my fingers have given out. I can barely hold my feather.

  Saturday ye 2nd of April

  I was on my knees in the garden planting the peas when up came a familiar horse pulling an unfamiliar carriage to our gate. My heart lifted. Darcy’s horse! And then I remembered, and my heart fell. He intended to marry Mem. And she intended to squash him. Luckily for him, though, Mem was off in the Village getting her daily dose of gossip.

  My petticoats wiped the work off my face, and I ran to greet Darcy. He was giving a hand down to a young woman who must be his sister, by the looks of her nose. She hesitated a moment, looking puzzled at me, then smiled and stepped forward to greet me before Darcy had a chance to mumble an introduction.

  “My, my! My dear! You are even prettier than I expected!” she said, then gently touched my cheek. “Oh dear, Mem — the cat scratched you.”

  “Mumble mumble mumble,” said Darcy.

  “Forgive me, Deliverance!” said his sister. “You look older than twelve.”

  I told them Mem was in the Village on an errand, and should be back soon. Darcy then introduced his sister and chaperone, Mehitabel, who is called Hitty. Last year she married a man named Hall, so now she is Hitty Hall! By the looks of her dress, they will soon have another Hall to join them.

  Babies, I do not think I want any. Maybe they will die and leave me alone. Maybe I will die and leave them alone, and that would be even worse. Besides, they hurt coming out! Women must suffer in labor because of Eve’s sin in the Garden of Eden. I wish she had not eaten that apple!

  “Why, what a lovely little place you keep here.” Hitty took a deep breath of spring air. She looked all about at the new planted rows of peas, at the fenced yard that extends from the barn so the animals can go in and out as they please, at the distant rows of fruit trees. They blend into the landscape so that I hardly notice them, but they do make a pretty picture.

  Watching Mrs. Hall admire the orchards, I had a nervous realization. I hoped nothing important must be done to those trees this time of year to make them grow a good harvest! Without apples, we would have a hungry winter.

  Of course, Darcy had to ask if our uncle was home.

  Oh, the reality of it hit me hard at that moment. We were not going to be living at this apple orchard next winter, anyway. Our uncle was never coming back. If he were, he would have shown up by now, or sent word. He was probably at the bottom of the ocean.

  “He is not home,” I said, and for the first time I could find no other words to explain him away. A big lump formed in my throat. My eyelids had all they could do to hold the flood back.

  “Why, Liv, sweet child, what is wrong?” Darcy asked, with great concern in his soft eyes. I fell into his arms, and my eyelids gave up the fight, and I wept my soul out as I had done that day with Goody Corey. Before I was done I had blubbered out the whole truth and nothing but the truth about our missing uncle.

  Darcy patted me on the back sympathetically as he guided me inside. Weak as a rag after crying myself dry, I flopped onto a stool. Mrs. Hall handed me some tea. She had made herself right at home, and said the lady of the house kept a very nice, neat kitchen. She lifted pleased eyebrows toward Darcy. He smiled proudly back at her. I let them think it was Mem who kept the dirt out.

  “This will not do,” Darcy said. “Two young women living alone is dangerous enough in these troubled times, and now you are surrounded by covens of witches? No, Liv. You and Mem must come back to Haver’il, at least until it can be discerned what has become of your uncle. I insist.”

  “Yes,” said Mrs. Hall. “The two of you can stay with me and Mr. Hall. We shall have such fun getting ready for the baby — and the wedding!”

  My head is already spinning, not knowing what to think or say, when in storms Mem and blasts, “Did I just hear what I thought I heard?”

  Right behind her, in rushes Benjamin and cries out, “Praise the Lord, ye girls are still here and safe!”

  And so, to make a long story short: Benjamin has given Darcy his blessing to court Mem. Darcy has gone off to New Bedford seeking word of our uncle. Mem has collapsed on the bed, crying. My pen and I are in the hayloft wondering what God wants of us all.

  Sunday ye 3rd

  The unmarried girls of the Village had a fine time feasting their eyes on Benjamin and trying to flirt. He did not pay any attention to a one of them, though. He has his mind set on going back to Maine after the wars and refuses to be distracted.

  Susannah Sheldon dropped her handkerchief at his feet twice, and he returned it to her with a polite nod but said nothing more. The third time she dropped it, he said, “Young woman, do you have a hole in your pocket? Perhaps you should pin your hankie down.”

  Mary Warren posted a note on the Meeting House door Saturday evening, and Mr. Parris read it to the congregation. Everyone was shocked. She told how her seizures had stopped, and asked for prayers of thanks for her deliverance from the affliction.

  It is well known that Mr. Proctor has kept Mary under stern watch ever since he fetched her home from Ingersoll’s after she testified against Goody Corey. The Proctors do not believe her when she describes specters. They told her she can go ahead and run into a fire or a river during a fit if she wants, they will not stop her. She asked them why they say such things, and Mr. Proctor told her, “Because you go to bring out innocent persons.”

  After the services were over, people were quick to question Mary. How was it that the witches had left her alone, yet still tortured the other girls?

  “The afflicted persons did but dissemble,” she said.

  Mary has come to understand that the girls are lying. Are they doing it on purpose, for sport? Or do they believe they are telling the truth because they are deceived by false visions? That is the question everyone is debating.

  Of course, the afflicted girls had to have their say. Someone of them pointed out that the specters are always shoving the Devil’s Book in their faces and promising to relieve them of pain if they sign it. Mary Warren must have done so.

  What I think is this: The afflicted girls cannot all be lying all of the time. When they are tortured before God and the court, they put their eternal souls at stake. They truly believe their visions, but that does not mean their visions are true. If Mr. Parris and the other men who bring these cases to court would follow Mr. Proctor’s lead, I believe the false visions would disappear. A fire goes out if it gets no air.

  At this moment my heart dares hope for the deliverance of Goody Corey and the others. Mary Warren has opened the door to Truth. I do not feel so alone in this world.

  Monday ye 4th of April

  My hope has turned to despa
ir. Today Mary Warren reports that the specter of Elizabeth Proctor got her out of bed in the middle of the night and lectured her for posting the note for prayers. Captain Walcott and Lieutenant Ingersoll rode to Salem to swear a complaint against Elizabeth Proctor and Sarah Cloyse.

  Abigail Williams saw a new face in the specters: John Proctor! “What? Are you come, too?” she said. “You can pinch as well as your wife.”

  Mem despairs as well, but not about the witches. She does not want to marry Darcy, and spends most of her time lying in bed feeling sorry for herself. Benjamin is losing his patience, and has threatened to beat some sense into her if he catches her in bed crying instead of in the garden working. He says she can refuse to marry Darcy if she wants, but do not expect him to support her. She can be the wife of a wealthy businessman, or she can be a servant. Take her pick.

  Tuesday ye 5th of April

  Last night I dreamt that Salem Village had built a new building on the training field. It was a prison in exactly the same shape and size as the Meeting House, except the prison did not have benches or pews. Half of the Villagers were shackled in the prison, and the other half were in the Meeting House accusing them. I was in the prison, and very sad because I could not find Mem. I could not see everyone there, since we were so many, all stacked atop one another like firewood. But I had a feeling that she was in the Meeting House.

  Yesterday a Village committee bought two acres for a schoolhouse next to Dr. Griggs. I do not know who there will be left to go to school, though, with half of the population afflicted and the other half in jail.

  Wednesday ye 6th of April

  Woke up in the night feeling two pinches in my side, which grew sharper with each breath. The Widow Ruste used to call them growing pains. Ann and Abigail would call them witches.

  The full moon shone bright through the window. I looked around to see if there were any specters in the room, just in case. All I saw was a lump of Benjamin in our uncle’s bed across the room and a lump of Mem beside me.

  Thursday ye 7th of April

  The best thing about having Ben home is the meat. When he cannot shoot it, he buys it. Methinks the chickens like having him here, too. They have been giving us enough eggs to please his appetite for cakes.

  Friday ye 8th of April

  Warrants were finally issued today for the arrest of Sarah Cloyse and Elizabeth Proctor. The examination will be held the eleventh hour of the eleventh day in Salem Town, not in the Village, as has been the pattern. It has all become too complicated, with too many witnesses and too much paperwork for local magistrates to handle. The witchcraft of little Salem Village has become a large concern to Massachusetts. There will be a Council led by the deputy governor.

  O Lord, please guide the fresh eyes to see clearly on Monday!

  Saturday ye 9th of April

  Mem came and sat down on the rock wall around the garden as I was picking slugs away from the new sprouting peas. In a trembling manner she told me I must go to the examinations on Monday. I told her no. Never again. She asked me why not.

  Oh, how I yearned to tell her! About my dreams, about my conversations with Goody Corey, about all the things I have noticed that lead me to think differently. Yet I did not know how to begin. She is caught up in the delusion, and can see no other way. If I fail to make her see why I do not believe the girls are right, what is to prevent Mem from believing me a witch? Any detail I give to convince her could be turned against me, just as Giles Corey’s words have been twisted against Martha, and those of little Dorcas against her mother.

  “I prefer to stay home, keep my mind clear, and pray for the afflicted rather than sit in a crowd and spur them on,” I finally said, and thought to add gently: “Will you stay here and pray with me, instead?”

  “You sound like your friend the witch!” Mem shouted. I would have throttled her except while I was making my fist I remembered my prayer for patience.

  Choking back tears, Mem got up and wrung her hands and paced circles around the budding rhubarb. “Can you not see that if you are not with the girls, you are against them?” she said. “And if you are against them, you are with the Devil?”

  Enough of patience. That made me so angry, I smashed a slug between two rocks. “Remembrance,” I said, “you make about as much sense as a dandelion having kittens. I answer to God above, and desire only to do His will. You should know better than anyone, since you have lived with me all my life. If you have any doubt about it, then you can go to the Devil and ask him yourself!”

  Mem stormed into the house and made a statement with the door like Goody Cloyse on Sunday. All the rest of the day she spent convincing Benjamin that the afflicted girls need us at the examinations. He insists that I go.

  I should never have cursed my sister. It were better that I beat her up.

  Sunday ye 10th

  We had expected Darcy to come courting Mem yesterday, but he sent word that he is still seeking word of our uncle in New Bedford. Benjamin has informed Mem in no uncertain terms that she is to be kind to Darcy when he does come, and give no signal that she dislikes him.

  “I do not dislike him,” Mem said. “I just do not want to marry him.”

  That is good. If she does not dislike him, then she likes him. Her like will surely grow to love. How could a woman not love kindness?

  As for Sunday Meeting, I am disgusted. Tituba’s husband, John Indian, disrupted the service. He said Sarah Cloyse was biting and pinching him, though she is in jail. He said she drew blood, and held up his arm to show it. Methinks he bit himself, a pretty trick he must have learnt from Abigail Williams. He probably hopes to escape accusation himself. Accuse or be accused.

  Between services Mercy Lewis had a mighty fit at Ingersoll’s, saying Goody Cloyse was after her. Back at the parsonage Abigail Williams saw Cloyse, too, among a crowd of several who tormented her. Our Salem Village witches are very talented, to be two places at once pinching and biting two different people!

  Monday ye 11th of April

  Mem begged Benjamin to leave for Salem Town before sunrise so we could get us a seat close to the front of the First Church, but he did not feel a prime view of the accused and accusers was worth the loss of an hour’s sleep. We sat in the back, and were lucky to sit at all, given the numbers in the crowd. I would just have soon stayed outside, where I could distract myself with looking at clouds and not witness the spectacle within the building, but Benjamin would not allow it.

  I do not know what Mem told him, but our brother has been keeping eagle eyes on me. It is getting ever more difficult to sneak time with my writing book. I have found a secret place under the boughs of an old drooping pine out in the woods where I take it, because Mem watches me in the house and Benjamin watches me in the barn. I try to keep the book hidden in the root cellar, where I know it will stay dry and safe, but sometimes it must stay in my pocket.

  After the Reverend Nicholas Noyes delivered the opening prayer, I tried to keep on praying and ignore the examination, but it was difficult in that racket. Elizabeth Hubbard sat in a trance, but the rest of the girls and John Indian had their usual fits and outbursts. The crowd could not contain themselves, either.

  It disappointed me to see that the local magistrates Mr. Hathorne and Mr. Corwin still presided, even though a larger Council of learned men was present. John Indian was plied with questions first. He said Sarah Cloyse choked him and brought him the Devil’s Book to sign. “When did I hurt thee?” Goody Cloyse broke out. “A great many times,” he replied, and she exclaimed, “Oh, you are a grievous liar!”

  Mary Walcott took her turn saying Cloyse hurt her and brought her the book. “What was you to do with it?” asked the Court. “To touch it, and be well,” Mary answered, and fell into a seizure.

  Abigail Williams gave many details, and told about the forty witches taking the Devil’s sacrament in Mr. Parris’s pasture. She said the witches drank the blood they had taken from the afflicted! And that Sarah Cloyse was the deacon who passed
the cup! At that, Sarah Cloyse asked for water, and dropped down, as one seized with a dying, fainting fit. It must have been a terrible shock for her sensitive spirit to hear such a lie about herself. However, the sympathy of the crowd clearly went to the screaming children.

  “Oh! Her spirit has gone to the prison to her sister Nurse!”

  “There is the black man whispering in Cloyse’s ear!”

  “There is a yellow bird flying around her head!”

  Men and women rushed to soothe the girls in their death poses, their gasping, their convulsive spasms of agony. John Indian tumbled and rolled his ugly body about the floor. I wanted to escape, to get up and run as far away as my legs and lungs would take me. Instead, I sat still and tried to block it all out with the Lord’s Prayer. It was like trying to end a toothache with a wish.

  Tuesday, April ye 12th

  Just before dark yesterday, Darcy Cooper rode up on his sweating horse. He said a man with our uncle’s name signed on to a ship that was due back many weeks ago. The ship is presumed sunk by the stormy winter. Not a word of them has come floating back. Captain and crew are presumed dead.

  Mem and I fell into each other’s arms and wept.

  Benjamin would not hear of Darcy riding home in the dark, or spending good money to put up at an inn. He slept on a pallet in the loft with the chickens, close to God and away from the dog.

  Mem went to bed early, but I stayed up late listening to Darcy and Ben become brothers over mugs of ale. Benjamin told all about militia life on the frontier, while Darcy told all about barrel-making. Benjamin proposed that Darcy and Mem move Eastward after the war and go into business there. Darcy said he likes the way Trembleys think!