Wicked Cries (The Wicked Cries Series Book 1)

by Michelle Areaux

  "Oh," I bit my bottom lip. Our date, our normal, typical, teenage, high school, boyfriend and girlfriend date had been ruined, yet again.

  Noah smiled down at me and pulled me closer. "It’s okay, Sadie. You didn’t think we were actually going to get through a night without something happening, did you?" He squeezed my arm and we walked back to the parking lot where Noah had parked.

  "I guess I should've known better," I said, jabbing him lightly in the stomach.

  We decided to spend the rest of our evening driving through town, listening to the radio. It was the most typical teenage Friday night date we could have thought of.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  That night, after Noah dropped me off at my house, I opened my laptop and began typing. The project was due on Monday and I needed to buckle down I was going to get it completed in time. As I reviewed my notes and the information I'd found, I realized I still needed to know more about life in Salem during the witch trials to complete my project.

  Just as I was about to pick up my cell phone to call her, Lucy’s number flashed across the screen. I answered it quickly, knowing what her first reaction would be.

  "Sadie, how'd you like Noah’s parents?" she said quickly.

  "They were great," I replied. "They gave me some really helpful information. His ancestor helped persecute Tituba, you know."

  "Wow, that’s amazing. Do you think he could've been involved in Elizabeth’s family's hangings?" she asked.

  "They had some involvement, but I don’t think we'll ever know how much. Noah’s dad was really nice about everything, though."

  "I think…maybe she was found, and hanged," Lucy whispered the last word. "Maybe she wants you to know she was innocent because no one else believed her. Also, what if that guy, John, who she mentioned in the journal, told the town she was a witch just to get back at her for not wanting to marry him?"

  "Yes!" I shrieked. "Lucy, she was wrongly persecuted by John and wants her name cleared. She told me so tonight, while Noah and I were trying to go to the movies. Noah and I ran into one of John’s ancestors who's been trying to stop me from unveiling Elizabeth’s journal.

  "He was the man who attacked me in the woods, and he's been following me since I moved into this house, but after tonight, I don’t think he'll be bothering me anymore. Elizabeth appeared and scared the hell out of him." I laughed as I remembered our eventful night.

  "Sadie, this is crazy!"

  "Can you meet me tonight?"

  "I'll be by in thirty minutes to come get you. Call Noah‒we'll need all the help we can get." I quickly disconnected the phone and dialed Noah’s number. I told him about my plan and he enthusiastically agreed. "I'll be right there," he exclaimed.

  Soon after our conversation, Noah and Lucy arrived at my house. We piled into Noah’s car, with me sitting in the front seat and Lucy in the back, giving directions.

  We drove silently through town, each of us thinking about what we were about to do. It was astonishing, the secrets history contained. When we arrived at the building, I looked out the passenger window and saw the large brick building, covered in a thick, creeping moss that threatened to strangle the building.

  Two wooden double doors were all that separated me from my answers. Noah, Lucy, and I got out of the car, walked up to the building, and examined the exterior before entering. Inside, the lighting was dark, capturing the essence of Salem. As we stepped further into the museum, our feet clicked on the white, tiled floor. Shelves lined the dark red walls, filled with raggedy and torn books. Pictures were hung on the walls between the shelves depicting faces and buildings a long time gone.

  I walked slowly through the rows of glass- topped tables in the center of the room, peering inside each one to check out the items that had been placed delicately inside.

  The first table contained an old Bible and three faded letters. The letters on the cover were near intelligible, the pages inside yellowed. I walked over to the next table, which held a small chalkboard, the kind children would have used in Salem's first, one- room schoolhouse. Beside that was a faded picture of the first schoolhouse, with a group of small children in front of it, standing with solemn faces beside an angry-looking teacher.

  There was a man behind the information desk, reading a book. As I walked over to him the sound of my shoes clicking on the tile floor alerted him to my presence, and he glanced up. The overhead light reflected off his round, silver-framed glasses, nearly obscuring his gray eyes. He was young, maybe in his late twenties, and had a short beard, and messy, brown hair.

  "Hi," I said to him, "I'm sorry to bother you, but I'm doing a research project for school and I just wondered if you had a reference section here."

  He closed his book, huffing slightly. "In the back by the window, but it's small, nothing as extensive as the one that was in the old library. Sadly, that's gone, now." He pointed to the back wall where Lucy was standing.

  "Yeah, we heard about the fire," I said. "Do you know what happened?" I leaned in closer, leaning my arms on the marble countertop.

  "The cops are saying it was probably electrical‒that building's been there forever‒but if you ask me, I think it is a little strange. I mean, the damn thing just went up in flames from out of nowhere." His tone became angry and I didn’t push the subject any further.

  "Thanks." I walked away thinking over what he'd had just told me, that the fire was sudden, and no one seemed to have a reasonable answer as to how it might have occurred.

  I continued walking through the rows of tables, with Noah following closely behind me while Lucy scanned the shelves for any books that might prove useful.

  That was when I saw what I'd been looking for. Two tables down, in the second row of tables, I found a case with a faded picture in it of my house. My address was listed below it, as were the words "Barnes House, home of persecuted witches Fredrick, Mary, Margaret, Sarah, and Elizabeth Barnes." I gasped when I saw Elizabeth’s name included in the list. Under the picture, a short letter explained how all of the family members had been accused of witchcraft and later hung for their crimes. Elizabeth had been the last one to pay for her accused crimes, and she claimed her innocence up until the moment she died. I called for Lucy and Noah to come and see what I'd discovered. Shock swept across both of their faces as they read the words with me.

  "Sadie, I am so sorry." Lucy patted my back in an effort to console me.

  "It’s okay. I think I always knew she'd died at the hands of the scared townspeople." I was still gawking at the picture, unable to take my eyes from it.

  "Hey, look at the inscription underneath." Noah pointing to a paragraph beneath the first caption.

  He read the words aloud: "Purchased in 1693 by John Bufford."

  John had continued to hurt Elizabeth even after she was gone. I was living in the home where Elizabeth had been when she lost her life and family, and where the wicked John Bufford had once roamed‒the name alone was enough to spark intense anger within me.

  I'd found my answers. It was John who'd created the turmoil in Elizabeth’s life. Her story had to be told, her journal put into one of these display cases for people to see, so all will know the truth.

  I decided what I needed to do‒it was time for me to take action.

  Chapter Thirty

  The bright light of my laptop monitor burned my eyes as I worked on my paper. I had one day to finish the project, which had become so much more than a Language Arts assignment‒it had become a mission. I vowed not to stop to eat, drink, or answer my phone until I was done. I barricaded myself in my room, much like some of my favorite authors who'd locked themselves away to worked countless tireless hours on their masterpieces.

  I used the historical information I'd learned at the now defunct library, but I focused more time and energy on the unfair treatment the women and men had experienced in Salem from February 1662 to May 1663. I Elizabeth's story, the journal she'd left behind, and John Bufford who'd fabricated the story leading to o
ne of the country's most notorious and scandalized events, serving to plague the town and ruin its name for generations thereafter. I'd learned that both Esmeralda and Tituba were responsible for inflicting pain on many of Salem's young girls. I wasn’t sure which one had caused the most damage, but I was sure the fear they'd instilled in the people of Salem was about the same.

  After hours of dedicated work, I sat back to view my masterpiece, smiling as I printed out three copies of the paper. One I'd leave on the kitchen table for my parents to read after I'd left for school, one for my presentation, and one for me to keep.

  I also decided to turn the journal in to the museum. It belonged in a public place where it could be viewed by all, not hidden inside the walls of my bedroom. I'd show it to my class tomorrow, revealing Elizabeth’s truth, and then take it over to the Salem Museum. I wanted nothing more for the journal but to have Elizabeth’s story told.

  As I shut my laptop and crawled into bed, a sense of tranquility crept through me. No longer would I have to play detective and be swarmed with questions from people, long dead. I'd finally have peace and start to enjoy my new life in Salem. I smiled as I closed my eyes and drifted off into what I hoped would be an uninterrupted unconsciousness.

  I hadn’t been asleep for more than an hour before I felt someone shaking me. When my eyes finally adjusted to the lack of light in the room, I saw Elizabeth standing next to my bed. She was smiling, wearing peaceful look on her face. When she spoke, it startled me, as it was lacking the desperate plea from when I'd heard her last.

  "Sadie, I want to thank you for clearing my family's name. Now I can find eternal rest, knowing John and his family can never hurt me again."

  She disappeared before I could respond. This time, I knew it was for good. This had been one of the strangest and most emotionally charged job yet, but deep down I knew I'd miss the chase for answers.

  I fell asleep that night thinking only about what my future might hold.

  The next morning, I awoke bright and early, before the sun had even risen. I went to my closet, climbed into a pair of jeans, and pulled on a blue sweater. I left a copy of the paper next to my dad’s briefcase, where I knew he'd find it, and along with my mom, he'd finally learn what I'd been up to over the past month. Though I feared they might be angry at me for keeping such a monumental secret, I figured they deserved to know.

  I met Lucy and Noah at my locker, as they'd decided to get to school early in order to help me prepare for my presentation. They congratulated me on my hard work and dedication when it came to finding the truth behind Elizabeth’s journal. Pleased with my work, I eagerly awaited the afternoon when I'd be able to present the project.

  It was hard to focus on my peers’ projects, as each and every one of them seemed to have the same, boring presentation. Some had conducted author research, while others stood and talked about their favorite book, analyzing the themes. How boring, I thought, thinking back to the countless hours I'd spent researching and agonizing over Elizabeth’s journal.

  When my name was finally called, I stepped up to the front of the room and put the journal and my paper on the solid oak podium there. My legs shook beneath me, threatening to collapse under my weight. My hands shook and became moist with perspiration. I grasped the sides of the stand, trying to brace myself as I looked out at the unfamiliar faces in the room. Rendered mute with fear, I tried, but couldn't get the words out. I glanced out of the corner of my eye and saw Noah standing in the hallway, holding up a piece of construction paper with the words: "Knock 'em dead, babe. You can do it!"

  It was all the encouragement I needed. I smiled, picked up the journal, and found my voice. I introduced myself and Elizabeth’s journal, explained my move from California, and how I'd discovered the journal hidden behind my dresser. I read a short passage from the entry where John threatened to expose Elizabeth as a witch if she didn’t accept his marriage proposal.

  My classmates watch, enraptured with amazement, as they listened to the journal.

  When I was finished, everyone clapped. Some of them howled. My teacher came over to me and patted me on the back, and I felt wonderful.

  I went back to my seat, smiling, still unable to pay attention to the rest of the presentations, but this time for a different reason‒deep down, I knew they couldn't compare to mine.

  When the bell rang, I gathered my things and ran out into the hallway where Noah was waiting for me with a smile.

  "How did it go?" he asked before pulling me in close to him.

  "It was great!" I pressed my lips tightly against his, not caring if there were any spectators watching. "Thank you for encouraging me to do this.

  Without you, I'd have never had the courage to find the answers." I smiled at him and escaped his hold.

  "No problem," he shrugged and placed his hands around my waist.

  Lucy came out of her class and I beamed at her. "Thanks again, Lucy, for all your help. You're such a great friend." I smiled at her, proud to call her my friend.

  After school, Lucy, Noah, and I took Elizabeth’s journal to the museum. We told them about its significance and what I'd discovered. The museum curator was astonished by my find and grateful that I'd entrusted them with such a historical treasure. They promised it would remain protected and that they'd tell the newspaper, so that Elizabeth’s story could finally‒and fairly‒be told.

  Pleased, I thanked the curator, but asked that my name not be mentioned, as the story was about Elizabeth, not me. I left the museum feeling triumphant that I'd done the right thing. Lucy and Noah accompanied me back to my house, I knew I'd have to face two angry, inquisitive parents once inside.

  Just as I'd suspected, my parents were sitting at the kitchen table holding the paper, carefully examining its contents. When we walked into the house, Mom jumped up from her seat, ran over to me, and threw her arms around my neck.

  "Oh, Sadie, I can’t believe you wrote this paper. It's incredibly compelling; I believe the woman’s fears. Your findings are truly miraculous.

  "The journal‒let me see it. Where exactly did you find it?" She left me no time to answer the first before she began the next.

  "First of all, Mom, calm down. I found it in my room when we moved in. I was afraid to show it to you all because…well, I don’t know why I didn’t. I thought you'd take it away from me, or something. It truly was amazing. I found out that the family that used to live in our house‒this very house‒were unjustly accused of being witches and they were hanged for it. I had to uncover the truth." I hoped my parents would understand.

  "Sadie, you should never be afraid to tell us anything. I'm so proud of you for all of the work you've done." She had tears in her eyes as she looked at me with a smile. It was hard not to tell them the rest of my secret. It would've been such a relief to tell them about my journey as I dealt with the dead, but this was not the time to get into that subject, just yet.

  My dad scooted his chair away from the table, making a slight squeaking noise, and walked over to me. He wrapped his arms around me and said, "I'm very proud of you, Sadie. You've overcome so much in such a short amount of time. What you've created here is fantastic. Please don’t ever fear telling us the truth. We'll always back you in everything you do."

  Lucy and Noah stood off to the side, watching as our family embraced.

  "And thank you, Noah and Lucy. Sadie's adapted to her life here wonderfully because of you two. We couldn’t have asked for better friends for our daughter." My mom walked over and hugged Noah and Lucy, in turn, thanking them.

  I couldn’t believe my life. Only a short time ago I was a depressed and lonely teenager, fearing my life would never be anything more than what it already was, and now I had new friends, a boyfriend, and I was able to truly express myself to the people around me.

  "We have to celebrate," Noah insisted, grabbing my arms.

  "Okay. What do you want to do?" I asked, noticing my parents and Lucy gazing at me with smiles on their faces.

 
; "You leave the planning to me. Tomorrow night, I'm taking you out." Noah smiled down at me with his mischievous grin, leaving me no other choice but to say yes.

  He hugged me and then left, with Lucy following closely behind him.

  I spent the rest of the evening telling my parents about our adventures and mishaps as we tried to figure the journal out. My dad laughed but told me I should've confided in him earlier. His law enforcement background could have been useful to me, he said, but I told them I needed to do this on my own. They understood, of course. Both of my parents listened intently, carefully hanging onto my every word. It was wonderful talking to my parents as if they were new found friends.

  That night I had a wonderful, dreamless sleep.

  My thoughts were all mine, once again, with no intruders, no worries, just a calming nothing.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  It had proven to be a beautiful and sunny day. It was the first Saturday I'd spent in Salem without having a mystery that needed uncovering. I took a brief walk in the brisk afternoon air, inhaling the sweet smells of the city, letting the wind sweep through my hair as I took in the breathtaking autumn views. October was finally over. I'd managed to live through my first few months in Salem, and they'd proven to be the greatest months of my life.

  When I got back to my house, my dad was sitting on the front porch swing, relaxing, and reading a book. He closed the book when he noticed me and motioned for me to go inside.

  "You'd better hurry, Sadie, you have a date to get ready for," he teased, stepping through the front door and leading me to where my mom was waiting for me in the kitchen, just about to get off of the phone. "Sadie, you better hurry and get ready," my mother proclaimed, pushing me toward the staircase. I laughed at the fact that my mom was just as excited as I was about my new life in Salem. I was finally able to live a normal, teenage life. For once

  my mom knew, without a doubt, that I was happy.