Back to Salem

by Alex Marcoux

“Or negative changes?” Daniel asked.

  “Witchcraft is a tool. It is only as good as the person who uses it. Yes, there are those who manifest the negative. But most do concentrate on the positive.”

  Daniel remained silent, listening to the wind blowing against the side of the barn. “Did you cast a spell on us, or me?” he finally asked.

  Rebecca shook her head. “No. I did not need to. I have known since the first time I looked into your eyes that we have been together before, in another life. Actually…many lives.”

  “In another life? That is sacrilege, Rebecca. As Christians, we believe that we have one life on earth, then we go to heaven or hell.”

  “Christians now believe that. Up until the fourth century reincarnation was not only believed in, but it was part of the Christian faith.”

  “How do you know such things?”

  “It is true, Daniel. During the fourth century, the Roman Emperor, Constantine the Great, deleted references of reincarnation from the New Testament. In the sixth century, the Second Council of Constantinople declared that the belief in reincarnation was a heresy. The early church believed it was too difficult for the average man to understand. They also didn’t want people to know that we have many lifetimes to seek our salvation. They hoped that by simplifying the religion, the church would grow.”

  “How do you know these things?” Daniel knew Rebecca had not studied theology and her education was limited to Miss Wilson’s Female Academy.

  “The same way I know we were together before. Through past-life memories.” Rebecca picked up both of Daniel’s hands and held them in her own. Daniel felt the warmth from the small hands. With one of her hands, she caressed Daniel’s face so that his eyes met her crystal blue eyes. “Can you not admit that we have a connection?”

  “I do not understand your question.”

  “Was it easy to get to know me? At times, have you felt we have talked before we met? When you look into my eyes, can you see beyond this physical body? Can you see my soul?”

  Daniel shook his head. “I do not believe in reincarnation, Rebecca. I may have a connection to you, but that is because I am in love with you.”

  “So, where does that leave us?” Rebecca boldly asked. “Can you accept me as I am? I am not going to change if we marry.”

  “Could we marry in the church?”

  “I am an active member of the church, Daniel. Assuming we do not tell the Reverend Hutchins, I don’t see why not.”

  “Children? How would we raise children?” Daniel asked.

  “As I was. I was raised Christian. Then when I was of age, the craft was introduced to me. As an adult, I decided which path to follow. But Daniel, can you accept me as I am? I am not going to change.”

  Daniel looked around the barn, studying the tools Rebecca used. “Can you safely do this in the privacy of our home?”

  Rebecca nodded.

  “It would have to remain our secret. Folks do not take kindly to witchcraft. They burn people at the stake for this.” Daniel’s voice softened. “I love you, Rebecca. I want to be your husband, and I hope you still want to be my wife.”

  Rebecca smiled. She embraced him, their lips finding each other’s.

  Rebecca moved into Daniel’s house after the wedding, and their bond continued to grow. She took over a small shed in the rear of the property where she set up her sanctuary; Daniel never expressed interest in seeing it. Both remained active members in the parish church. As the summer passed, Daniel noticed that business had picked up. By fall, he shared their good fortune with his wife.

  “I do not know what it is, Rebecca, but we have been blessed. I keep sales records from year-to-year, and sales are up. It seems like every little choice I make at the store is improving business. Last month, I received ten extra bags in my grain delivery. I wrote the supplier and told him about it, so he could bill me. Yesterday I received ten more bags of grain with a note saying ‘Thank you for your honesty. Compliments of Porter’s Grain.’”

  “I’m sure it is because you are very good at what you do,” Rebecca said. She turned away, concealing her smile.

  Rebecca gathered early into the courtship that Daniel and John had a strong friendship. Even after their marriage, the relationship did not change. John was a fixture around Daniel’s house on most weekends and occasionally during weekdays. Rebecca remained supportive of their friendship.

  One weekend in October, John and Daniel were sitting at the table enjoying cider and discussing business as usual, which was of little interest to Rebecca. She excused herself, grabbed her cape and a lantern then stepped outside.

  The full moon illuminated the worn path to the outhouse. Then thirty feet beyond it was her shed. As she opened the wooden panel door, it creaked. The scent of burnt herbs filled the eight-foot square enclosure. Moonlight filtered through a small window, helping to light up her haven.

  At a shelf, she removed a black cauldron and placed it in front of her on the floor. Rebecca rummaged through items on her shelves, thoughtfully selecting bits and pieces and carefully placing them in the pot. From marked jars, she removed dirt from different places, then twigs from various trees. She methodically placed a feather, stone, seashell and a small mirror in the cauldron. Then she selected different stones. She turned to other jars where she removed a spoonful from each of a half-dozen selected items. Once satisfied with the contents of the pot, she placed it in front of the altar.

  Rebecca dressed the altar with a white cloth, then placed the cauldron in the center of the table and selected other items to surround the pot. From the flame of her lantern, she lit a white candle. She carefully placed it in the center of the cauldron, on top the contents and prayed softly aloud.

  “Spirits of the night see my magic flame. Awaken within the womb from where all came. As the moon grows full and shines from above, charge this oracle with truth, power and love.”

  Rebecca picked up a dish on the side of the cauldron. She lit an object and fragrance filled the shed. She blew the smoke from the burning object into the cauldron, filling the pot with smoke and aroma.

  “Spirits of the air and this dark hour fill my cauldron with your psychic power. Show me the way the future to foresee. In accordance with your will, so shall it be.”

  She took some water and salt that sat beside the cauldron. As she sprinkled the two ingredients into the pot, she continued her prayer. “Spirits of the sea and earth, to my visions now give birth. The future I beckon thee show me that in truth and wisdom I shall grow. Let now the powers come to me, for this is what I need, so mote it be.”

  Rebecca was so absorbed in preparing her spirit caldron that she never saw the dark face in the window studying her every move. She never saw his mouth ajar, reflecting his shock when he realized she was practicing witchcraft.

  Outside the small shed, John hurried away, heart pounding as he ran past the outhouse only to be abruptly stopped when a large figure stood in his way. John stood momentarily sizing up his opponent, and then bolted around the larger man.

  “John, it is me,” Daniel yelled. He grabbed hold of his friend’s arm, but John continued his struggle, until Daniel had him pinned on the ground. “It’s me, John. What in God’s name is wrong?”

  John looked up into Daniel’s face. “Let me up,” he demanded.

  Daniel released his grip on John and the two men stood facing each other.

  “She is a witch? She’s a witch, Daniel.” John nervously stroked at his mustache, twisting an end to a point.

  Daniel remained calm. “Let us go inside and talk about this.”

  “You knew? You knew she was a witch. No, we can talk right here.” John backed away from Daniel.

  “John, she’s Rebecca. She is still the same sweet woman the two of us met last year. She’s the same woman that gives all of herself to anyone that needs her. It’s Rebecca.”

  “She is a witch. She worships the devil.”

  “That is not true.”

  “How d
o you know that?”

  “She told me.”

  “And you believe her? You trust her?”

  “With my life, John. She is the same woman we have always known. Yes, she admits to having unconventional spiritual beliefs. But believe me, John, she says she does not worship Satan.”

  John stood silently trying to digest everything that had transpired after he came outside to use the outhouse. “I wish I never saw that flicker of light in the shed’s window,” he mumbled.

  “John, we have been friends for almost fifteen years. Please trust my judgment. Let us go inside and talk.”

  As if surrendering, John turned and went back into the house.

  It didn’t take Daniel long to convince John he had overreacted to the situation. Then when Rebecca returned to the house from her ritual, her charm only confirmed what Daniel had been saying. John promised both of them that their secret would remain with him.

  Chapter 6

  Fall passed and winter arrived. Business remained good for Daniel, the newlyweds’ love never stopped growing, and John continued his friendship. The couple remained active members of the parish church, and formed new friendships with other couples.

  One Sunday morning in February, before Sunday service was finished, a couple stood in front of the congregation. Both the husband and wife appeared exhausted, their clothes wrinkled, hair uncombed. Rebecca and Daniel knew Mary and Samuel Osgood as they had a farm about a mile away from their own property and had been living there since their daughter, Ann, was born about one year earlier. Today, Ann was noticeably absent.

  The Reverend Hutchins stood between the distressed couple. “I have a disturbing announcement.” His arms stretched open to comfort the couple. “Yesterday when Goodman and Goodwife Osgood were at market, their daughter, Ann, was abducted.”

  Of course, the congregation became involved in the couple’s tragedy. The abduction upset the community and the congregation pledged their support to the Osgoods. Later that week, Rebecca made a special basket for the couple, consisting of fresh breads, relishes and jams. While Daniel was at the store, Rebecca took the basket and walked to the Osgood’s farm.

  Mary Osgood answered the knock at the door, and was surprised by Rebecca’s arrival. “Goodie Johnson, please, come in,” she said. She smiled then stepped away from the door, permitting Rebecca to pass. The Osgood’s house was similar to Rebecca and Daniel’s home, a two-room house consisting of a bedchamber and a gathering area.

  “Goodie Osgood, I wanted to bring you this.” Rebecca offered the basket.

  “Thank you, this is kind of you. May I offer you some tea?”

  Rebecca accepted the invitation. Mary Osgood went to the fireplace where stew was simmering in a kettle and water was boiling. She prepared the teapot and the women sat quietly at the table sipping their tea. Rebecca noticed two crates sitting near the bedroom door. Within the chamber she could see a small crib.

  “Has there been any news about Ann?” Rebecca asked.

  “No. The sheriff was not very hopeful.”

  “Is Goodman Osgood here?”

  “He is out at the barn. Samuel is building a workshop for his furniture. He is very good with his hands, and always wanted to try the furniture business. This time of the year, he could work at it full time.” Mary paused. “The work also helps him take his mind off of things.”

  “It must be hard. Is there anything I can do to help?”

  “Continue praying.”

  Rebecca looked again at the crates. Diapers in one of them told her that Ann’s belongings were being packed away. The room was so small Rebecca could almost touch them.

  “Is all hope gone?” Rebecca asked quietly.

  “Samuel feels the sooner we get her things out of here, the sooner we can move on with our lives. Would you like more tea? I’ll fetch some hot water.”

  “Yes, thank you.”

  As Mary turned away to the fireplace, Rebecca moved quickly to snatch a teething ring that lay on top of the nappies. She sat again, noiselessly, and clutching the small object, closed her eyes. Immediately an image of the baby came to her. Ann was smiling. She was playing with a ball inside a house, near a large fireplace. A man and a woman were with her. Both adored Ann.

  “Did you take honey with your tea?”

  Mary’s voice brought Rebecca back. “Yes, thank you.” Rebecca stared at the teething ring in her palm. Ann is in no harm. I should tell them…how would they understand? Quickly, she pocketed the teething ring. Maybe I can find out something more helpful.

  Rebecca’s heart ached for Mary and Samuel Osgood. The thought of losing a baby and not knowing the child’s welfare would be devastating. She was determined to find out Ann’s whereabouts. Rebecca decided to call upon the goddess Isis for assistance.

  Isis was an Egyptian goddess who protected children from the danger of everyday life. Rebecca had called upon her when her youngest brother came down with the fever a couple years earlier. While she was in her sanctuary that evening, Rebecca searched the shelves until she found the box identified “ISIS.” Rebecca knew she may never find Ann, but she knew Isis could protect the child.

  Rebecca started the preparation for the deity. She opened the dusty box revealing a statue of the Egyptian goddess, along with an assortment of stones, twigs and animal figures. She set the statue on her altar beside some other items from the box. Carefully, she dusted the statue. As the cloth caressed the object, Rebecca’s eyes noticed the object Isis was carrying in her right hand. She smiled when she saw the ankh the goddess held, then reached deep into her pocket and pulled out her amulet, her own ankh. She had asked a local carpenter to make her the ankh after showing him a picture in a mythology book. Then she psychically energized it to offer her protection. With her fingers, she traced the smooth surface of the maple, starting with the T cross, completing with the loop above the cross.

  Rebecca had selected the ankh as her amulet years earlier. She had always been intrigued with Egyptian mythology and almost every god or goddess was pictured holding or carrying an ankh. When she learned the meaning of the cross-like symbol was everlasting life and regeneration, she chose it to become her personal energized object for protection.

  The best time to call Isis would be spring and summer. After dusting off the objects, she placed them back in the box except for the statue, which she left on the altar. She lit a candle, then placed a blanket on the dirt floor and sat. Rebecca removed Ann’s teething ring from her pocket. She opened her palm displaying the small object then delicately closed one hand over the other so she could feel the energy from the tiny object.

  Within seconds, images started flashing in Rebecca’s third eye. Again, she saw the baby with the same couple. It was an older man and woman, perhaps in their late thirties or early forties. They appeared to live in great comfort. They had a two-story, four-room house with unusual diamond framed windows not typical of the area, perhaps imported from England. There was a magnificent fireplace with large stones harnessing a roaring fire. The couple appeared to adore Ann, as well as each other. The baby doesn’t appear to be in danger. As soon as Rebecca’s intellect started to rationalize the situation, her psychic connection was lost.

  The winter weeks passed quickly and most in town seemed to forget the kidnapped baby. Even Mary and Samuel tried to put the situation behind them. During one of Rebecca’s many visits to the farm, Rebecca couldn’t find any sign of the couple ever having had Ann.

  It was a Saturday evening in April and John was enjoying dinner at Rebecca and Daniel’s home. John wanted to share some news he had heard with his friends. He nervously twisted the ends of his mustache.

  “Have either of you heard what is going on in Salem Village and now Salem Town?” John asked.

  Although Daniel had heard some rumors in his store, he knew Rebecca would not know.

  “No. What is going on in Salem?” Rebecca asked innocently. John, twisting his mustache, eyed Daniel before he answered.

 
Daniel nodded his approval for bringing up the subject at their dinner table.

  “There has been an outbreak of witchcraft cases in the village, perhaps a dozen or so. But the examinations have moved to Salem Town. Rebecca…” he turned to meet her eyes, “I do not want to see you get hurt. Please be careful.”

  Rebecca smiled. “That is sweet, John. Please tell me, what did these people do?”

  John shook his head. “I don’t know. I only know there are a number of women in jail, along with a child.”

  “A child?” Daniel asked.

  “Yes, a four-year-old, the daughter of Sarah Good. Sarah was one of the first accused. Both mother and child are in a Boston prison.”

  “What will happen to all of them?” Daniel asked.

  “It’s quite unclear. A new governor is arriving from England this spring. Sir William Phips has been appointed and he will establish a new charter when he arrives. To proceed with formal prosecution of the accused witches would be illegal.”

  “So what happens to these women?” Rebecca asked, even though she already knew the answer.

  “The only thing they can do is jail them until a special court is appointed to hear their cases.”

  “This is not good,” Rebecca said. She felt Daniel’s warm hand slip into her own and she acknowledged his touch by looking into his eyes.

  “You will be careful, please?”

  Rebecca nodded, then turned to John. “Thank you for letting us know.”

  “Will you keep us informed?” Daniel asked.

  “Yes.”

  About a month later, Sir William Phips sailed into Boston harbor and soon formed a six-member advisory council to hear and determine the backlog of witchcraft cases. Phips named his lieutenant governor, William Stoughton, as the Lord Chief Justice of the Court of Oyer and Terminer.

  It was a warm mid-June afternoon and Daniel was busy unpacking and displaying new merchandise at the store. Abruptly, John stormed into the storefront. When John realized his entrance was disruptive to one of Daniel’s customers, he apologized.

  Daniel, sensing something was wrong, excused himself from the customer and invited John into the rear stockroom.