by J. Thorn
She made her away down the path and toward the place where the people were. She heard noises in the distance like the sounds horses make when giving birth to foals, only louder. A roaring thunder came from above, but when Mary turned her face upward, she saw no storm cloud. She sat down on a rock and tried to catch her breath.
I opened a door, one that has put me in another time and place. And another body, although it is one I recognize. Gaki was distraught at my departure, and clearly did not want me to leave.
She nodded. Thinking through the logistics of the situation gave her the energy to stand and continue walking down the path. Mary saw the fire burning on the ground and was thankful that something she recognized remained. She looked at the trees and knew she was not in Salem. There were barks she knew but many others she did not. Mary could tell where she was in the colony by running her hand on the trees. She may have been in a forest, but she was not in Salem.
“Can you please check on her? How long does it take?”
Mary listened for the woman’s response to the man’s question.
“She’s a girl, Roger. You wouldn’t understand.”
The man smiled at the woman and it warmed Mary’s heart. There was an energy between the two that she felt, she remembered.
Mother, Father?
The question in her head felt too painful to contemplate and so she shut it down and peered through the branches at them.
“Fine. Listen, I gotta be back at the office by ten so if you could speed things up a bit, I’d appreciate that.”
“Always closing, eh?”
“Right,” he replied to the woman. “Always.”
“Hello, Mary.”
The voice made Mary jump and she spun around half-expecting Gaki to be there. Although she was relieved he was not, she was somewhat unsure about the man that was.
“I’ve been waiting for you.”
Mary recovered from the unexpected intrusion and looked more closely at the visitor. She had never seen someone from the Orient, but she recognized his kind from stories the sailors told on the docks of Salem Town. He was short with gray hair and a long beard. His narrow eyes twinkled with a healthy mischief and he walked toward her with a cane.
“Where am I?” she asked. “What is this place?”
“You are in yourself, my dear. If you were not, you’d be inside the creature’s grasp.”
“Gaki?”
The old man nodded.
“I escaped. I fell through a hole,” Mary said.
“Yes. A Portal. You have come back to yourself.”
Mary turned her head sideways and giggled.
“That doesn’t make any sense,” she said.
“Nothing does. There will be time for us later. We have training to begin, but not until you acclimate.”
“I still don’t understand. What am I doing here? Who are you?”
“I am Mashoka, and I am here to train you in the fight against the eternal darkness, the hidden evil.”
The old man shrugged and snickered.
“That was a bit dramatic, even for me. Sorry.”
Mary smiled and felt the warmth in Mashoka’s face.
“Are you a sorcerer, a warlock?”
“No my child, although I could understand why you’d be wary of such a visitor. This is not 1692. You will not be hanged for associating with me.”
Mary believed him. She had no reason to, but she did.
“Are they my parents?”
“Yes, in the cosmic sense.”
Mary nodded and bit her bottom lip.
“Will they—”
“No. Not everyone has cellular memory to recall moments of past lives. I’m sorry, Mary, but they will not remember you or your previous life together.”
“But they still love me,” Mary said.
“Of course. They always will,” replied Mashoka.
“What should I do? The woman—my mom—she’s been calling for me.”
“Then you should go to her. You and I will have time together in the very near future. There are other Hunters I’d like you to meet.”
The word startled Mary until she remembered where she had heard it first. The woman, the dark woman shackled to the wall, but Mary struggled to remember her name.
“Tituba. But there is no point in wasting your mental energies trying to recall that time and place. The longer you’re here, on this plane, the more that plane will fade. It is the Portal’s way of protecting your psyche. In a few more hours you will recall very little from Salem.”
Mary felt the panic flutter in her chest until a flicker of memory came into focus, her view of the screaming, vengeful people of Salem as she stood on the platform with a noose around her neck. She caught the dying glance of her uncle and aunt watching from a distance, and she felt the hands of Gaki on her back, pushing her into the abyss.
Maybe the old man is right, she thought.
“I am. Now go before you cause your folks to worry.”
Mary started to respond and then didn’t.
Thank you, Mashoka. Thank you for coming to me when I needed help.
“Not necessary, my dear.”
Mary turned to walk toward the camp. She looked over her shoulder to smile at Mashoka but nothing remained of the man except a slight rustle of leaves and a lingering sense of hope.
***
“Well, finally.”
Mary hugged her mom and smiled at her father.
“Sorry I took so long, Dad.”
“It’s okay, sport,” he said, ruffling her hair.
“I’m not a little girl anymore, you know. I can handle myself.”
“We know you can,” Mary’s mom said. “But it’s still our job to look after you.”
Mary turned to look at the path and the memories of standing on the gallows, the confrontation with Gaki, and the conversation with Mashoka began to fade into the ether. She still felt a sense of disconnection, but it lessened with each moment. This new experience felt like home. It felt right.
Mary stepped toward the forest and hesitated. For a moment she considered walking back in there and yet she couldn’t understand why. The sun beat down on her neck and she closed her eyes to listen to the songs of the birds that had stuck around through most of the summer and were still there to serenade them at the end of it.
“No, this is right,” Mary said aloud. “This is where I’m supposed to be. I can feel that.”
Her dad honked the horn and Mary turned to see both of her parents in the car, each with an arm dangling out of the window waving at her.
“C’mon, hon. We gotta vacate the spot for the next campers. Let’s go.”
Mary turned her face to the sky and smiled again. She was looking forward to going home, to her room, to her stuffed animals, to her life. She had one last fleeting glimpse of a violent creature, one with bluish-gray skin and a bulbous head.
Must’ve been a nightmare from a movie I watched, she thought.
Mary skipped to the car and opened the door of the minivan. She hopped inside as her father put the vehicle in reverse and backed out on to the main drive of Punderson Campground.
“Did you forget something, Sage?” her mom asked.
“No, nothing,” she replied.
Before the Realm: Transition
Pine Valley, 1890
The late summer wind knocked several apples to the ground where the girls stood with full aprons, welcoming the delicious fruit to their bosom. Their father forbid them from eating from the tree. He rambled about the biblical implications of such behavior and how Satan would have his way with the tempted. Prudence knew better. Being the firstborn and the one most privy to the family’s allegiances, she believed her father really loved apple pie and tried to scare the girls from the tree. He should have known better.
“They’re so juicy,” said Lilith.
Prudence nodded as she sunk her teeth into the ripe apple. The sweet, bitter tang made her eyes water. She chewed slowly to fully savor it
.
“Papa said no apples. I’m telling,” replied Beatrice. “Y’all get whipped for it.”
Prudence walked up to her sister and stopped a few inches from her face. She kicked her hip to the side and continued eating her apple with exaggerated moans.
“It’s so good, Bea. You know you wanna eat it.”
Beatrice giggled and reached to the ground where another amber ball landed with a soft thud. A gunshot rang out in the distance and both Lilith and Beatrice looked at Prudence.
“Probably Mr. Benson hunting turkey again. I swear that man spends more time in the woods than he does in the pew.”
Lilith and Beatrice nodded, both munching on their apples.
“We should git home and help Mama prepare dinner. We’ll come back,” said Prudence.
“When?” asked Beatrice. She knew the answer before she asked the question.
“Why, after dark. Of course,” replied Prudence.
***
Lilith followed Beatrice who followed Prudence. They walked through the orchards and into the woods many, many times, and yet the night brought an unsettling feeling that never disappeared. At sixteen, Prudence began collecting glances from the boys in Pine Valley, not to mention their fathers. She had wide hips and curves that suggested a maturity beyond her natural years. Beatrice, however, appeared to be a child although only a year younger than her older sister. Her bright-red hair and freckles made her look immature in a manner that she began to resent. Lilith was the baby of the family and still a year or two from her first bleeding. Unlike Prudence’s dark mane and Beatrice’s shocking red hair, Lilith sported a sandy-blonde head with strands twisted and tangled from hours spent playing in the woods.
The girls walked down the path and through the trees in silence. The crescent moon hung like a polished dagger on the horizon, and the wind rattled the dry leaves above. Prudence shivered as the cloudless sky released the day’s warmth, and she shuddered again knowing what the night would bring. The fire would have to be bigger than usual.
“Do you have the satchel?” Beatrice asked.
“I do,” replied Prudence.
“How’d you get it?” Lilith asked.
“Don’t you worry none about that.”
Lilith and Beatrice knew not to push Prudence on the matter.
“Who you fancy?” Beatrice asked. She changed the question but not the nature of the inquiry.
“John Jackson,” Prudence replied.
“Didn’t his wife just give birth? A baby girl?”
Prudence waved a hand at Beatrice and continued deeper into the forest. The trees protected the ground from the light of the moon and yet the girls did not stumble. They stepped over fallen trees and around thickets toward the clearing. The deeper they walked into the forest, the more the natural sounds died away. By the time Prudence crossed the creek and climbed up the gentle embankment on the edge of the clearing, the girls heard nothing but their own breathing and swish of skirts over dried leaves. Even the sweet aroma from the orchard couldn’t penetrate the hidden darkness.
Lilith began to hum a lullaby and Beatrice turned and slapped her across the face. Lilith gasped and rubbed her cheek before running to catch up with her older sisters. She looked over her shoulder twice before catching up.
Prudence stood on the edge of the clearing, eyes closed and her mouth spread into a full grin. Her hands grasped the rawhide drawstring of the satchel and her breasts rose with her breath.
“Tis the perfect night for the dance.”
Beatrice agreed and Lilith remained silent, her cheek sore with a dull thrumming.
“John?”
“Aye. John,” replied Prudence.
Beatrice and Lilith looked at each other in the dark, a mix of excitement and dread.
“Elmore been giving you the eye. Why not Elmore?”
“He is a boy. I want a man.”
Beatrice nodded. “Git the kindlin’,” she said to Lilith.
The youngest Williams sister scrambled into the field, where she gathered twigs and broken branches in her apron.
“Will he be joining us tonight?” Beatrice asked Prudence.
“No. Tonight is us, for us.”
“For you,” Beatrice said.
“Us,” replied Prudence. “Make the markings and prepare the ground.”
“Tis not a full moon, nor even an Esbat.”
“I know,” replied Prudence. “We shall make do with what we have. Prepare the circle while I get the Athame and the chalice ready.”
Beatrice did as her sister instructed and used her foot to clear the circle. The ash remained from the last fire, and Lilith dumped armfuls of twigs on to it. Prudence set the dagger and the chalice on the rock. She removed her stay and frock. The cool air stiffened her nipples and stole her breath for a moment.
Lilith placed another stack on the fire pit and Beatrice lit it. The flames cast an immediate amber glow on Prudence’s smooth, white skin. The firelight danced upon her naked body and lit her eyes. Beatrice followed suit and stepped out of her garments, the mounds on her chest slightly larger than they had been even a few weeks ago. Lilith did as her older sisters had, standing naked as well.
“Call him forth,” Beatrice said.
Prudence nodded and leaned over to remove the articles from the satchel.
***
At first, Ruford Benson thought a few of the town drunks from Pine Valley had climbed up the ridge and into the woods to down moonshine. He saw the fire through the trees but could not hear it at such a distance. His wife would be upset. He took a risk staying out after dark, in hopes that’d he come home with a turkey. Coming up empty and coming home late would not bode well. He moved through the trees with his shotgun over a shoulder. Firing in the dark would result in wasted shells, spooked birds, or worse. Benson didn’t think anyone else poached behind the Williams’ orchard, but he was not going to reveal his own guilt. Hunting the birds on private property in the daylight was risky enough, and no turkey would be worth getting shot or arrested.
He pushed branches from his face and turned his head upward. Ruford listened but heard nothing. He knew the woods grew quiet as summer waned, but it was never silent. He shrugged off the thought and moved closer to the fire, becoming more cautious and slow with each step.
Ruford found a wide oak and set his gun down at the base of the tree. He smelled the burning fire and heard the crackle from the wood with moisture still trapped inside. The flames flickered as shapes moved back and forth, but he was unable to tell who was there or what they were doing. Benson’s stomach grumbled and he cursed under his breath, fearful that his own intestines would betray his presence. He thought that he might be able to blackmail whoever it was into handing over some deer jerky and a swig of moonshine. Ruford doubted that anyone would be out in the woods at night doing the Lord’s work.
He took a few steps closer and heard voices. He stopped and turned his good ear toward the fire, his other eardrum blown out at Antietam and long since useless. He paused.
“Children?” he whispered.
Ruford took a few more cautious steps until he could see through the trees bordering the clearing. The sight nearly stole his breath and his heart skipped a beat. He squinted and dropped low to gain a better perspective.
A child stood by the fire, her back to him. Judging on the length of her hair and diminutive body, Ruford knew it was a little girl. Given their location in regards to the Williams’ property, he also surmised it was most likely Floyd’s youngest daughter, Lilith.
But why in God’s good name is she out here stark naked?
Ruford looked to the right and saw another flash of bare skin. It was another girl, her hair competing with the fire’s flames. Ruford averted his gaze when his eyes fell upon her burgeoning breasts. This peek gave him a jolt and he shook his head to try to clear the thoughts bouncing around.
If that be Lilith, then that one be Beatrice. And that means…
Before Ruford could f
inish his own thought, he saw Prudence.
She was lying on a fallen tree, the trunk inclined at an angle that gave him a full view of her naked body upon it. He gasped and felt a growing heat in his loins. Benson had seen the girl around Pine Valley since she was a baby, and he knew she was coming of age, but he did not expect her to be so close to womanhood.
Body of a woman, mind of a child, he thought. Ruford tried to suppress his primal urges.
He blinked and looked again. Prudence was on her back, her knees apart and the growing pubic mound showing in the firelight. Her pert breasts remained upright on her chest with shocks of dark hair cascading down the sides like serpents. She held a dagger in one hand and a cup in the other. Ruford could feel his erection pushing against his trousers.
“Time to go, Ruford,” he said. “Ain’t no good comin’ of this. You know better than to dabble with the Williams clan whether they know you be doin’ it or not.”
But he was not able to convince himself to leave, and his hand reached down inside of his trousers on its own accord.
He drew a heavy breath as Prudence lifted her head. He could see the look on her face and his hand quickened the pace. Her breasts shook as Beatrice took the knife and cup from her sister’s hand. Lilith passed another object to Prudence. Before Ruford could tell what it was, Prudence used both hands to place it inside of herself.
Benson heard her moan as she pushed it in and out. Her knees came up higher and the fire grew stronger, giving him a better look at all of her forbidden places. He gasped and closed his eyes. But only for a moment. He looked back at Prudence as her moans and motions quickened. Ruford quickened as well and he considered walking to the fire. He wanted to put it inside of her, and he thought she’d rather have the real thing than whatever was inside of her now.
