Fallen Elements

by Heather McVea

  “I can’t believe you’re really here.” Ryan took Leah’s hand in hers, kissing her palm.

  “It’s my house, Ryan.” Leah said seriously, but she couldn’t hide the amused expression on her face.

  Ryan slowly leaned in, her eyes devouring every detail of Leah’s face, from the contours of her high cheek bones, the definition of her jaw, and the piercing green of her eyes. Ryan tentatively touched her lips to Leah’s, a quiet sigh escaping her as the now familiar shock of heat Leah elicited in her shot across her lips.

  “You get me incredibly hot.” Ryan muttered against Leah’s lips.

  “I nearly passed out twice last night.” Leah grinned.

  Ryan opened her eyes. “Really?”

  Leah blushed. “Really.”

  “Then I don’t feel so silly telling you that every time I’m near you - and dear lord, every time you touch me - I feel like I’m under a torrent of warm water.” Ryan kissed Leah full-on the lips. “It’s - you’re - amazing!”

  Leah grinned, but her expression was one of worry. Ryan frowned. “What’s wrong?”

  Shaking her head, Leah pulled Ryan to her. “Nothing.” She kissed Ryan, her hand cupping the back of her neck, pulling Ryan more fully into the moment and into her. “I love you.”

  Ryan knew she would never tire of hearing those words from Leah. “I love you, too.”

  Leah rolled over and looked at the clock. “If I get going now, I could be back by noon.” She turned to Ryan, cupping the younger woman’s cheek in her hand. “Can you wait?”

  Ryan contemplated. “Why don’t I head home? Are you willing to drive in - we can do lunch or dinner?”

  Leah grinned. “Yes.”

  “Lunch or dinner?”

  Leah kissed Ryan’s cheek. “Both.”

  Nearly an hour and a half later, having had casual kissing and cuddling escalate to sex, Ryan and Leah stood at the front door. Ryan’s arms were wrapped around Leah’s waist. “I’ll see you around one?”

  Leah shook her head, an embarrassed expression on her face. “That was when we thought we were getting up at seven thirty. It’s almost eleven.” Leah winced. “So, more like four-ish.”

  Not wanting to pout, Ryan put on a brave front, even though she loathed the idea of being apart from Leah. “Okay. I can’t wait.”

  Reluctantly the two women parted, and Ryan walked slowly back to her car. Unlocking the Honda’s driver’s door, she glanced over at Leah’s Nissan. Frowning, Ryan looked at the house, and then back at the car.

  Trying not to be too conspicuous in case Leah was watching her leave, Ryan slowly walked toward the hatchback of the station wagon. Ryan bent over and pretended like she was looking for something in the back of her car. While she hunched down, she quickly looked over at the back of the Nissan. There was no sign of a collision.

  Her initial suspicions about Leah’s reason for the bruises on her neck and hip came back to Ryan. Brows furrowed, Ryan walked back around and got into her car. She couldn’t imagine why Leah would lie to her.

  Maybe it was something silly and she was embarrassed to say that? Ryan reasoned. But her tone didn’t seem awkward or embarrassed. Ryan started the car. It seemed secretive.

  Putting the car into reverse, Ryan navigated out of Leah’s driveway and onto the narrow two-lane road leading back toward the main highway. Just ask her later today, I’m sure she’ll come clean, and it’s probably nothing.

  In spite of her efforts to convince herself otherwise, Ryan drove toward Baltimore feeling somewhat less certain about Leah and her. That realization alone weighed heavy on her, and she hated that she was suspicious of someone she felt so close to. The contradiction made the feeling of despair Ryan experienced the previous afternoon flare up. Once again, some of the questions she had pushed to the back of her mind stepped forward.

  Chapter 14

  Ryan walked across Fleet Street in Canton, and into Bad Decisions. The bar was a quintessential neighborhood dive bar, but the drink menu was eclectic and fairly priced.

  “I’m on my second Mitch Morgan, friend. One more and you’ll be carrying me home.” Nicole slid off her barstool and hugged Ryan.

  Ryan looked at the nearly empty shot glass with a large piece of thickly cut bacon garnishing it. “What the hell is that?”

  Nicole gestured to the female bartender as she and Ryan took their seats. “Maker’s Mark and bacon.”

  Ryan wrinkled her nose. “I hope you didn’t just order me one.”

  “Live a little, Myers.” Nicole downed the last of her bourbon and took a bite from the bacon. “I was hesitant myself, but Greg suggested it, and I thought why not. This place is known for its bacon nights.”

  Ryan arched her brow. “Greg? Since when are you taking advice from a would-be stalker?”

  Nicole blushed as she crunched on another bite of bacon. “That’s why I was texting you like a mad woman last night, but crickets was all I got from you.”

  The bartender slid two shot glasses in front of Nicole and Ryan. “Same tab?”

  Nicole nodded, and lifted her glass, frowning as Ryan looked suspiciously at hers. “Don’t leave me hangin’. Cheers!”

  Ryan took a sip of the bourbon and then quickly chased it with a generous bite of bacon. She was surprised at how well the wood undertones of the bourbon complimented the saltiness of the bacon, but she couldn’t imagine making this her go-to drink. “This doesn’t suck.” She took another bite of bacon. “What are we toasting, and why the ADD texting?”

  Nicole threw back the remainder of her drink, not bothering with the bacon chaser. “Greg and I are dating.” Ryan nearly choked as a sliver of salty bacon hit the back of her throat. Nicole quickly patted her friend on the back.

  “Are you serious?” Ryan managed as her eyes began to water.

  “Don’t make a thing out of it. We’ve just been talking the last few days, and thought we would give it a go.”

  Ryan finished the last of her bourbon, more to squelch the tickling in her throat than out of actual enjoyment. “Well, I’m happy for you.” Ryan’s eyes narrowed as she considered Nicole. “You’ll forgive my bluntness, but you’ve never shat where you ate before – so –”

  Nicole held her hand up. “I know. We’re taking it slow so if it doesn’t work out it won’t turn into a complete nightmare.”

  Ryan shook her head. “It would anyway, but at least you both know that.”

  Nicole waved the bartender over. “Another round.”

  “Wait.” Ryan interrupted. “Can I just get a Natty Boh, please?”

  The bartender nodded, a faint smile on her lips. Ryan turned her attention back to Nicole who sat with a pouty expression on her face. “Coward.”

  Ryan shrugged. “Turns out I don’t like to mix my pork products and booze.”

  “So enough about me. Where were you last night?” Nicole asked.

  Ryan wasn’t sure what she should say. She was inclined to tell her friend everything. The sordid details of her dinner with Lucy and Carol, the subsequent argument with Leah, their sleeping together, and the cascade of confusion Ryan had experienced that morning when she realized Leah had been lying about her car accident.

  “Leah and I fought.” Ryan took a drink of her beer.

  Nicole frowned. “Oh, I’m sorry.”

  “But then we made up.” Ryan smirked.

  “Slut.” Nicole teased.

  “But then things got weird.”

  “Like weird, or exciting weird, or weird like –”

  “Stop.” Ryan placed her hand over Nicole’s mouth before she could elaborate on her idea of shades of weird. “I think she’s not telling me something, and I can’t figure out if it’s just about her and my mother, or something more.”

  Nicole pulled Ryan’s hand away. “Ask her.”

  Ryan exhaled. “I have. What do you think the fight was about?”

  Before Nicole could answer, her gaze shot past Ryan, her mouth turning upward into a broad smile. “Let’s ask
a man’s opinion.” Nicole hopped off the barstool and wrapped her arms around Greg.

  “Hey!” The man’s face lit up. “Sorry I’m late.”

  Ryan smiled. Her two friends seemed genuinely happy with each other, even if she was still adjusting to the idea herself. “Sounds like your patience finally paid off.” Ryan patted Greg on the shoulder.

  Nicole spun around. “Actually, we have your cousin to thank for this.”

  Greg leaned in and kissed Nicole on the cheek. “Our friend here became a raging wreck when she thought I was going to start dating Carol.”

  “I wouldn’t say raging, sweetie.” Nicole pulled Greg over to the barstool next to hers. “You were just so tragic, throwing yourself at her like that. I had to do something.”

  Greg asked the bartender for a Mitch Morgan and water. “Is that why you threw yourself at me?” Greg leaned in and kissed Nicole full on the lips. In return, Nicole wrapped her arms around his neck.

  Ryan cleared her throat. “Alrighty. So, I need to get going. Congratulations, and try not to get arrested for excessive PDA.”

  Greg and Nicole both turned toward Ryan. “What? I just got here and you’re leaving.”

  Ryan downed the last of her beer. “I’m exhausted.”

  Nicole laid her head on Greg’s shoulder. “Ryan was busy having make-up sex last night with Leah.”

  Greg smiled. “That’s awesome!”

  Ryan shook her head as she put her empty beer glass on the bar. “Nice, Nic. Ah, I have to go. Thanks for the drinks.”

  “Stay. We can go somewhere for an early dinner or late lunch.” Greg suggested.

  “I’m going home – for a nap, and then I have plans with Leah.” Ryan shuffled around Nicole, and hugged Greg. “Bye.” She gave Nicole a quick kiss on the cheek, and walked out of the dimly lit bar into the brightness of the afternoon sun. She was grateful to have escaped without a barrage of questions about Leah from her friends.

  ***

  2 May 1628

  I stood huddled next to Coleen and Hester this morning on the banks of the Pemigewasset River. We had become one town, one people. Margery and Abigail were walked to the river. I had learned from Coleen that Goody Sebille had passed during the night, her soul now lost forever.

  I confess, though, that I had a moment of sadness as the sisters, with eyes bloodshot from crying, neared the river’s edge. I could not help but pity the poor creatures for everything they lost, even if it was by their own sin.

  It was Isaac who stepped forward, and I knew him well enough to see the nervousness he was trying to mask from our neighbors. I was proud that he was taking a more prominent role in the community, but saddened that it should come with such a heavy burden.

  “On this, the second day of May in the year of our Lord sixteen hundred and twenty eight, we the people of Plymouth Colony stand in judgment of Margery Sarah Sebille and Abigail Lea Sebille. The women, of keen minds and unfettered hearts, have willingly and knowingly given their souls and services over to the devil. This was evidenced to, and so decided by, a jury of freeman and witnessed by the God fearing people of Plymouth.”

  My heart grew heavy as Isaac pronounced the sentences. The women were to be bound and drowned. If they be truly of the devil, their dark master would find a way to save his servants and raise them from the river’s depths. If they be good Christian souls then they would sink, their bodies lost but their souls saved. I prayed for the latter!

  It is difficult to put into words what happened next. I can only convey what my eyes saw, and know it to be true. Margery was the first of the sisters to be thrown into the cold waters of the river. I closed my eyes, my breath catching as I prayed she remain submerged and be the kindly woman I had always thought her to be.

  Alas, it was not to be. For mere moments after she disappeared under the surface of the water, she rose above the lapping waves, hands and feet still bound, and stood just at the water’s surface. I reached for Coleen for fear I would swoon from sheer shock, but she was no longer beside me.

  Scanning the crowd of people as they scattered to and fro, I spotted Coleen near the river bank. I can not say how she managed to clear such a wide distance in mere seconds, but she, along with Goodman Tynan, had grabbed Abigail around the shoulders and feet, their intent clear as they meant to throw her in the water.

  Margery now stood on the far side of the river bank, no longer bound, her hands outstretched toward her sister. What I can only describe as two columns of water stabbed upward from the river, and then as if directed by Margery herself, were thrust forward with such force they knocked Goodman Tynan and Coleen to the ground.

  I could see a faint glow coming from the ropes around Abigail, and within a blink of an eye, a flash of light engulfed her, and the ropes – now clearly singed – fell to the ground. Free of her restraints, Abigail waved her hands in front of her, and to my utter horror, flames from Hell’s fire shot from the ground.

  Where the two columns of water had been, there was now an empty river bed as dams, unseen by my eyes, held the current at bay. Abigail ran across to Margery, and in a few heartbeats, the two women disappeared into the wooded area beyond the river.

  In the confusion, I felt strong hands grasp me by the shoulders. Relief washed over me as Isaac pulled me to him. My legs failed me, and I felt the ground beneath me give way and begin to spin.

  I woke near dusk, Coleen and Isaac sitting next to my bed. The look of worry on my poor husband’s face brought tears to my eyes.

  “What happened?” My mouth felt dry, and my throat burned.

  Isaac was the first to his feet. He clutched my hand to his chest, tears streaming from his eyes. “Wife, I thought you had left me.”

  Coleen then stood. “I assured your husband you would be fine. Your heart is strong.” The woman smiled, and ran a cool damp cloth over my forehead. “And yes, your child is fine.” She laid a gentle hand on my swollen stomach, and I felt calm and reassured.

  “Have they found Margery and Abigail?” I tried to lift my head, but the room began to pull away from me, and I quickly laid back down.

  “No. The woods are dense, and they have ways to travel that are not of this world.” Isaac gently touched my shoulder. “Do not think on it. You need rest.”

  Leaning over, my husband kissed my forehead, the warmth of his lips reassuring me we would survive whatever hardships may come as long as we had each other.

  Coleen remained when Isaac left, and she sat down near the edge of the bed before taking my hand in hers. “It is time you know something.” Her tone was serious, and I immediately feared for my baby. “You’ve had a difficult time.” She glanced down at my stomach, her eyes full of genuine worry.

  “It has not been an easy pregnancy.” I remembered the aching in my stomach, and the cramping. “Do not think me wicked, but the remedies Margery provided did ease the pain.”

  Coleen’s brow arched, and a faint light moved across her blue eyes. “Was it the remedies, or her departure that provided you relief?”

  It took a moment before I could bring into focus her question. My mind raced through my interactions with Margery. My heart ached as I recalled her laughter, and the warmth of her touch. Then I could see Coleen was correct. It was not that the teas and salves halted my pain, rather Margery leaving my home would seem now to be the reasonable cause for any relief I found.

  “I can see from the look in your eyes you know what I suggest is true.” Coleen spoke softly. “This brings me to the crux of the matter. Isaac’s family is gifted –” Coleen looked up toward the heavens, her voice low and intimate as she spoke. “You understand, sanctified by the grace of God. Your ailments have not been simple pregnancy sickness, rather your unborn child’s revulsion at the very presence of a witch.”

  I shook my head for I did not understand. Coleen smiled, and rubbed her cool hand in small circles across my stomach. “This child will recognize the devil long before your eyes can detect the malice. With that foresight, you
r children, and their children, will strike down with furious vengeance the very evil you witnessed today.”

  I do not recall ever feeling so utterly afraid. The words she spoke, more importantly what they meant, caused my heart to pound and my breath to come in short, strained bursts.

  “Shh, Remembrance. This is not something to fear, but rather rejoice in.” Coleen ran her hand over my forehead, absently she tucked a stray strand of hair behind my ear. “Isaac has been awakened to this truth as well, and he has accepted his destiny. He is resolved to take what he must and do what he can to ensure the survival of his bloodlines and this blessed gift.”

  I could sense by her unyielding gaze that she anticipated a response. I knew she wanted me to accept her words and pledge to uphold the causes she alluded to. I am ashamed to say I hesitated in accepting this magnificent task. My fear of the unknown was that great.

  It was only after Coleen left, resigning herself to having only introduced me to my fate if not altogether guided me down the necessary path, that Isaac returned to our bedroom.

  “Do you believe what you have been told, husband?” I found my voice breaking as I held back tears.

  Nodding, Isaac sat on the bed next to me. “I do, wife.”

  Our eyes met, and I felt a certainty course through me that I had not thought possible beyond that of heaven. I placed my hand over my stomach, and Isaac covered it with his. There is evil in this world, and by God’s grace a chosen few have been empowered to end it. I feel fortunate to be among those few.

  ***

  Entry by Isaac James Allerton

  20 May 1628

  My wife has died. Her brave soul has sought, and gained entry into, the everlasting kingdom of God. She went to be with our heavenly Father last evening, having died while giving birth to our daughter, Grace Remembrance Allerton. I cannot find an end to my grief!

  The only solace I can take is in our family’s divine right and responsibility to ensure the sanctity of this community. I have come to know that we are not held to the same laws of most men, but rather, derive our guidance from God Himself. My daughter’s life, and her children’s lives, will stand as testimony to His will, and our legacy will be one of wrath and retribution against the unholy.