Back to Salem

by Alex Marcoux

  “Look, I don’t see how I can help you with any of this.”

  “Take me—instead of Daniel. He is completely innocent.”

  “Then talk to a lawyer about this, not me.”

  “I have. He seems to think that if I turn myself in, they won’t drop the charges against Daniel.”

  “I have seen the evidence against your husband—it is very persuading. The Osgood’s complaint is vague; now I have a better idea what the meaning behind it is. But there’s another letter that suggests your husband used unnatural methods to help with his financial success, and then they found all these tools used for witchcraft in his store.”

  “It was I who cast a prosperity spell on his business. He is not even aware of it. And after the confrontation with the Osgoods, Daniel didn’t feel comfortable having my possessions at the house and removed them. He hid them at his store.”

  “I still don’t see how I can help you. And I feel this conversation needs to come to an end.”

  Rebecca was getting desperate. “What are you going to do when the truth comes out about Ann?”

  Elizabeth went to her husband’s side.

  “There’s nothing wrong with adopting children,” Jacob stated confidently.

  “But you didn’t adopt Ann. You bought her, but it’s not even that simple, is it?”

  “What are you implying?” Jacob asked.

  “You made a deal with the Osgoods while Mary was pregnant with Ann. Elizabeth actually pretended to go through a simultaneous pregnancy. But Samuel got greedy and demanded more money after the baby was born. You went through months of negotiating, which put your family into hiding. You didn’t have a baby to show off, so you said the baby was ill and could not be around people. You had to let your staff go, until your deal with the Osgoods was final and Ann was in your possession.”

  “You seem to think you know everything. Why would we do this?” Jacob asked. “Why wouldn’t we just adopt her?”

  “That part didn’t make any sense to me at first. Inheritance. Elizabeth’s parents’ will stipulates that upon their death, the assets are to be divided among blood family only. Elizabeth was very ill right before her first marriage. She got the fever. It was bad; they thought they would lose her. Obviously she recovered, but she became infertile.”

  Elizabeth went to Rebecca. “How do you know these things?”

  “I asked the spirits and they showed me.”

  “Oh my God, Jacob. What are we going to do?” Elizabeth cried.

  “Take me and let my husband go,” Rebecca pleaded. “I will plead guilty, you will not need to have the Osgoods testify, and the truth about Ann doesn’t need to come out. I promise—I will take your secret to my grave.”

  Jacob studied Rebecca for a moment then shook his head. “With the evidence against your husband, I don’t think I could eliminate suspicion.”

  “Then the evidence needs to disappear,” Rebecca planted the idea.

  “I can’t do that,” Jacob was shocked.

  “Without doing it, an innocent man may be hanged…and your secret could destroy your career, and disinherit Ann. Is that justice?”

  Early Monday morning, John and Rebecca rode together to the home of Jonathan Corwin, one of the members of Phips’s advisory council. Here, there would be a preliminary examination of the evidence against Daniel. When they arrived at the two-story house, they were directed to a room that had been set up for pretrial examinations.

  Shortly after, Daniel arrived with chains on his legs and wrists. His clothes were soiled and wrinkled and his hair unkempt. When Rebecca saw Daniel, she rushed to him but was abruptly stopped by two guards. Daniel’s and Rebecca’s eyes remained fixed on each other as Daniel was brought in front of the room where he was seated. Rebecca and John sat behind him.

  A small group of well-dressed men entered and sat in front of the room, facing Daniel. Jacob was one of the men.

  William Stoughton, the Lord Chief Justice of the council spoke. “The court of Oyer and Terminer was formed by Governor Phips to specifically hear and determine witchcraft cases in Essex County of Massachusetts. This is not a trial. This is an examination of evidence against…” Stoughton looked at some documents searching for a name. “…Goodman Daniel Johnson. Let us begin.”

  A man brought in three crates containing Rebecca’s possessions that were found in Daniel’s store. The evidence was presented and reviewed. Then a document was presented to Stoughton. He reviewed it and passed it on to another member of the council for review.

  Stoughton turned to the presenter of evidence. “Where’s the other document?”

  “We don’t know, Sir.”

  “What do you mean?” Stoughton asked.

  “All the evidence was together on Friday. This is all there was this morning…”

  “What?”

  Rebecca knew this was her cue. Her heart warmed as she looked at Jacob who glanced in her direction. She took a deep breath and stood. “May I approach?”

  “Who are you?” Stoughton asked.

  “I am Rebecca Johnson, wife of Daniel Johnson.”

  “No!” Daniel objected.

  “Rebecca sit!” John whispered urgently pulling on her sleeve.

  “This is unorthodox,” Stoughton said. “What business do you have here?”

  “I am here to present testimony.” Rebecca did not give Stoughton time to respond. “My husband is no witch. I am. He is innocent. I will plead guilty to your charges in exchange for his freedom.”

  “No!” Daniel shouted.

  “Objection, your honor,” John stood.

  “Who are you?” Stoughton asked.

  “John Price. I am counsel for the family. Goodwife Johnson is clearly under duress and this is her desperate attempt to free her husband.”

  “John, you know I speak the truth.”

  “Order!” Stoughton said. “Perhaps both Goodman and Goodwife Johnson should stand trial. We can sort this out then.”

  “Sir, my husband is no witch. He is innocent. Surely you don’t want to send an innocent man to trial.”

  “Goodwife Johnson, there is a complaint by the Osgoods of Andover that does implicate yourself, as well as your husband. All the other evidence however suggests your husband is a witch. We did not bring you in for examination because there is insufficient evidence against you.”

  “There is no evidence against my husband.”

  “On the contrary, we found all this in your husband’s store.” Stoughton pointed to the three crates that sat in front of him. “There’s a letter suggesting your husband used unnatural means for personal gain and his financial ledgers support a substantial increase in store profit.”

  “These are all my possessions. After the Osgoods threatened me, Daniel took them and hid them. They are mine. Most of the items are even marked with my initials, ‘R.M.,’ from my maiden name. If you don’t believe me, look and see.”

  It was Jacob who went to the crate and pulled out a black pot. “Check the bottom of the caldron,” Rebecca suggested.

  Jacob turned the pot over, nodded to Stoughton, then passed the pot to another member of the council. He then pulled out the double-edged knife.

  “Bottom of the handle.”

  Jacob found the initials etched on the athame and passed it to another member of the council. He removed the chalice and held it up for Rebecca.

  “That was a gift from someone, so my initials are not there, but the initials ‘M.C.’ are on the bottom.” Rebecca repeated accurate details over and over about her belongings.

  Jacob removed a box from a crate and held it up. “Goodwife Johnson, I don’t want you to tell me, but do you know what is in this box?”

  “I do.”

  Jacob turned to Daniel. “Goodman Johnson, do you know what is in this box?”

  Daniel nodded, “Yes.”

  “Would you tell me then?”

  Daniel appeared beat. He guessed. “Stones.”

  “Is that correct Goodwife
Johnson?” Jacob asked.

  “That is not correct.”

  “Could you tell us what is in the box?”

  “That box consists of items associated with the goddess Isis. There’s a statue of her, some branches, stones, a scepter, cup, and mirror.”

  “Is that all?” Jacob asked.

  “I think so.”

  “There’s something in here that seems out of place. Do you know what I’m talking about?”

  Rebecca stared back at Jacob. What am I missing? She wondered. Then she remembered. “You’re right. There is an item that would seem out of place. It’s a teething ring.”

  Jacob lifted the teething ring from the box, then turned to Stoughton. “Lord Chief Justice, in view of this woman’s testimony, as well as the evidence against Goodman Johnson, I feel Goodwife Johnson should be placed under arrest for practicing witchcraft and Goodman Johnson should be released.”

  Other members of the council nodded in agreement with the recommendation.

  “Goodwife Johnson, it would seem that you have your wish. You are under arrest for practicing witchcraft and you shall go to trial.”

  Daniel had a sick feeling in his stomach. How could this happen?

  Two guards moved to Rebecca and swiftly took her away. It all happened so quickly, Daniel never had a chance to hold her, to kiss her, or to say goodbye. He caught sight of her looking over one of the guard’s shoulders as she was taken from the courtroom. Daniel heard Rebecca’s voice clearly in his head. “I love you, Daniel.”

  Daniel tried strenuously to follow, but the chains on his feet tripped him and he fell to the floor. He heard the door slam separating himself and his love. Tired, beaten and hurting, Daniel could not prevent the tears from coming. He lay on the floor, his forehead on his arms, hiding his pain from the men that surrounded him.

  Chapter 9

  Jessie never heard Carrie count down the numbers, bringing her back to the present. Somehow her subconscious did, and when she came out of the hypnotic trance, she was completely disoriented. She found herself lying on Carrie’s couch with her heart pounding and sweating like she had just run a marathon. The light hurt her eyes. She squinted to look at her hands. She felt her clammy face and wiped tears from her face.

  “Are you okay?” Carrie asked softly.

  Jessie could not talk. She stood and her world spun. Groping a nearby table she managed to find the bathroom. At the sink, she turned on the cold water and splashed it over her face. Her eyes met her reflection in the mirror. I’m back, she thought. Jessie searched her mirrored eyes for some resemblance of Daniel.

  Carrie was outside the bathroom door. “Are you okay?”

  She nodded and returned to the couch.

  “Can you share any of your experience?”

  “It was so real,” Jessie whispered, surprised by how foreign her voice sounded.

  “Yes, it usually is.”

  “It was so strange. Initially, I heard your instructions until…I saw him.”

  “You saw who?”

  “Me…Daniel.”

  “That’s very good. You were able to get your name.”

  “After I realized it was the man in my dreams, it all became…real. It was like I was actually there. Except…”

  “Except what?”

  “The majority of it was as if I was there and experiencing it. Then…there were parts of it where I wasn’t there and it was like watching a movie.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “There were…scenes, for lack of a better word, where I wasn’t there. But I was able to see what was happening.”

  “Now, that’s interesting. Perhaps you were able to learn things you didn’t know in the last life. You may want to journal your experience. Look at the scenes that you were not in and ask yourself what you learned. See what that little voice inside of you says.”

  “I recognized her.”

  “You recognized the person you’re having connections with?”

  Jessie nodded. “It’s so strange. In that life, I recognized Rebecca…from a previous life. But from this one.”

  “What?”

  “I didn’t initially see her as Taylor Andrews.” Jessie stopped. She realized it was the first time she had said Taylor’s name to Carrie.

  “It’s okay, Jessie. Whatever you say remains here.”

  Jessie took a deep breath. “I was married to a woman who was a witch. Her name was Rebecca. It was during the Salem witch-hunt period. Mistakenly, I got arrested and was imprisoned. Something happened to me in that prison. I started hearing voices, and when I saw Rebecca, I recognized her as Taylor Andrews and she knew me as Jessie Mercer.”

  “So in your past life, you had past-life recall?”

  “But how is that possible? I was recalling the future. It hadn’t happened yet. And in this life—I don’t even know the woman.”

  “Yet. You don’t know her yet. Remember when we met earlier? I explained that all time is coexisting.”

  Jessie recalled what Rebecca had told her in the cell. “All time is one,” She mumbled.

  “That’s correct,” Carrie said.

  “No. That’s what Rebecca told me when I recognized her. She said ‘all time is one.’ “

  “This is very unusual and so exciting,” Carrie said. “Tell me. Did it help? Did you get any answers?”

  “In some ways I have answers—I know I’m not going crazy. But in other ways, it raises many more questions. Like…what happened? They took her from me. In my dream, she was tried, convicted and sentenced to be hanged. Did it ever happen?”

  “I don’t know. Is it important for you to know that?”

  For a moment, Jessie feared the worst and wondered if she had been hung. “I’m not sure I want to know.”

  “If you do, perhaps you can gather some insight from the history books. You remembered her first name; do you remember the last name?”

  “Yes, it’s…it’s on the tip of my tongue…Johnson. I was Daniel Johnson and she was Rebecca Johnson.”

  “There’s a lot of documentation on Salem. If you need to know—look it up.”

  “Maybe I’ll do that.”

  “Was there anyone else in your past life that you recognized from this life?”

  “There was one person that seemed familiar. But I can’t place him. He was my best friend; his name was John.”

  Jessie was exhausted when she left Carrie’s. The experience left her totally drained. When she arrived home, she fed Maxwell and went to bed.

  The following day Jessie was just as tired. Carrie called around ten o’clock to check on her.

  “How are you today, Jessie?”

  “I’m exhausted. I came home yesterday afternoon and went right to bed. I slept past my usual wake time, and I’m still exhausted.”

  “You had a very emotional experience. I’m sure a little fatigue is expected, but if it continues, you should do something about it. If you need anyone to talk to, just call me. Okay?”

  “Thank you, Carrie.”

  After her phone conversation Jessie went to her office. From her Rolodex she pulled a card, picked up her phone and pressed the numbers. The call was answered on the second ring, “Good morning, Powell Library.”

  “Good morning. Is Sandra there?”

  “I’ll ring her office.”

  Moments later a woman picked up the phone. “Hello, this is Sandra.”

  “Hi, Sandra. It’s Jessie Mercer.”

  “How are you, Jessie?”

  “Very good, and you?”

  “I’m fine. You doing some research?” Sandra was accustomed to Jessie’s calls. Over the years, Jessie had used Sandra to find books on various subject matters for her writing. It had been a while since they had spoken.

  “Yes. I need your help. Do you have the time?”

  Sandra always made time for Jessie. She always got a kick when seeing her name in the acknowledgement page of Jessie’s books.

  “I need some information on the Salem wi
tch trials.”

  “We have a lot of material on that subject. I’ll pull it. Stop by and look through it. If none of it helps you, I’ll put a request in to the other campus libraries.”

  “Sounds good. I’ll be there around three.”

  As Jessie entered the UCLA library she started wondering, Am I ready for this? In that moment she hesitated pressing the elevator button. What if they hanged her? Will I ever be able to live with that thought?

  “It happened over 300 years ago Jessie,” a little voice in Jessie’s head came from nowhere.

  While Jessie was startled by the voice, it provoked a conversation in her head. I should have protected her more. I should have put my foot down when I learned she was seeking Ann... but I didn’t.

  “You wouldn’t have been able to stop her.”

  Jessie was standing next to the elevator in the foyer beside a young man. A bell indicated the elevator door opened and a student entered, pressed his floor and held open the door. He looked directly at Jessie and asked, “Are you going up?”

  Jessie gazed at the student, noticing his “Salem State College” T-shirt. “I guess so,” she uttered.

  When she arrived at Sandra’s office, the librarian was nowhere to be found, but there was a note and a pile of books on her desk.

  Jessie, I’m in a meeting. Look through the books and let me know if they’ll do. If not, let me know more specifically what you’re looking for. Sandra.

  Jessie picked up a stack of books then searched for a quiet area in the library. She found an unoccupied table in a secluded area, took a seat, and opened her first book. She quickly skimmed the indexes in the books, looking for lists of the accused. As she picked up her fourth book she recognized the title of the book. Tituba - Reluctant Witch of Salem was the book Taylor Andrews mentioned she was reading in the article she read only days earlier. Quickly, she scanned the index until she saw the title for Appendix A: “Timetable of Accusations and Confessions, February—November 1692, page 183.”

  As she read the title, warmth and fullness filled her chest. On page 183, the list of those accused or confessed began. There were over a hundred names. The list showed where each person resided, along with the outcome of the trial, whether they were executed, imprisoned, died in prison, and so on.