Legend of Witchtrot Road

by E.J. Stevens

  “So you don’t hate him?” I asked. “You’ve been majorly avoiding the guy for months…which, you know, has been kind of awkward.”

  “No, sorry, it was complicated,” Emma said. “It’s like…

  I can be his friend now that he’s with someone, but I couldn’t be around him when he was pining over me and wanting me to take him back. Does that make sense?”

  “Yeah, I hadn’t real y thought about it like that, but I guess that would have been stressful,” I said.

  Actual y it made perfect sense. I knew Emma felt guilty about breaking up with Gordy and it must have been hard to see his tearful face every day. Add a side dish of pressure to that guilt entrée and you have a meal that no one would want to swal ow.

  We grabbed our favorite table and Emma waited for Katie to return with her books. I was glad that Emma liked Katie and was beyond the whole Gordy thing. Maybe we could al hang out sometime soon…after we made it past the ful moon, I solved the mystery of Dylan’s death, and returned Nera’s amulet to the Salem witches, of course.

  I went in search of more books on Witchtrot Road. I had been distracted during my earlier search by the papers documenting past Wakefield atrocities, and what that could mean regarding Samhain and my future. This time I needed to focus on learning more about the curse.

  I hauled a huge pile of books, even a local map or two, back to our study table where Emma was furiously taking notes. Her eyes never left the page as she raised her fist over the pile of books for an encouraging knuckle-bump.

  Oh yeah, Emma was total y in her element. Some guys get a Dear John letter, but Gabriel was about to be delivered a thesis.

  I laughed quietly and started flipping pages. What I discovered was fascinating.

  Katie had been completely right about the history of Witchtrot Road. The road got its name from the freaky events that took place there back in 1692. The library books confirmed what Katie said about the Wakefield man accused of witchcraft.

  Reverend Burroughs, a Wakefield minister, had previously worked as a minister in Salem and apparently made some enemies there. An opportunist named Cotton Mather, a Puritan minister in Massachusetts, used the witch trial frenzy to get rid of Burroughs by claiming he was a witch. Evil jerk.

  The crazed town folk, with the egging on of Mather and his cronies, sent their agents to Wakefield to arrest Burroughs. Burroughs, a family man, was woken from his bed as the three officials broke into his home with the intent to drag him back to Salem to stand trial. Reverend Burroughs was so confident of his own innocence that he offered to go wil ingly with the officials. He kissed his family goodbye and began his journey to Salem.

  Burroughs even offered to take the officials on a short cut through the Berwicks. The Salem constables fol owed Burroughs on horseback on dark, remote, thickly forested roads. At nightfal a storm unleashed, bringing with it thunder and lightning. The riders’ horses were startled by the storm and the superstitious men claimed that Burroughs, who wasn’t afraid of the storm, had cast a spel on them. Apparently the constables were too studly to admit that their terror was due to a simple storm. As the tree branches lashed threateningly over the road, the men declared that Reverend Burroughs must in fact be a witch.

  When Burroughs reached Salem he stood trial. At one point during the proceedings, when he flawlessly and reverently recited the Lord’s Prayer, it looked as though he may be found innocent of witchcraft. Mather, who was beginning to remind me of two nasty pieces of work I knew al too wel , made a rousing speech that final y convinced the mob-like crowd that Burroughs was indeed a witch and should be destroyed. The constables also added to Mather’s claim that they had witnessed a large number of toads at the Wakefield residence. Since toads were thought to be the Devil’s instruments and the pet familiars of witches, their story added weight to the accusation of witchcraft. Reverend Burroughs was found guilty and sentenced to be executed by hanging. Poor guy.

  Finding information about the curse was more difficult.

  I used the library computers to go online and Google the legend of Witchtrot Road, Burroughs, and a curse. I found a few paranormal sites that claimed Burroughs had cursed his accusers and that his ghost continued to haunt Witchtrot Road, where he was marched to his death, to this very day.

  “Dude, you okay?” Emma asked, startling me from thoughts of Cotton Mather. I’d given him Jared Zempter’s face and a pilgrim hat, which was probably al kinds of wrong. “You look like you just ate something nasty.”

  “Ugh, I hate bul ies,” I said, pointing to the open book.

  “Even back in 1692 there were creepy, horrible bul ies.” I told Emma about what I’d learned.

  “So when do we go check it out?” Emma asked.

  “Check what out?” I asked.

  “Witchtrot Road,” Emma said, rol ing her eyes. “You have bul ies of your own to deal with and we stil don’t know what caused Dylan’s death.”

  “We could go out there, I guess, but shouldn’t we wait until after Wolf Camp?” I asked.

  “Since when do we need guys to protect us?” Emma asked.

  Son of a dung beetle. Emma had just spent hours researching women’s rights. She wasn’t going to take “we need the big strong guys” as an excuse.

  “Um, okay,” I said. “I do want to clear this up, and get the J-team off my back, as soon as possible. When should we go?”

  “Tomorrow night,” Emma said, raising her fist to bump knuckles. “Girl power, yo.”

  Chapter 10

  Dreaded Monday morning came al too soon. The thought of going back to school and facing the J-team set my teeth on edge and made my jaw ache. I dressed quickly, but memories of being held captive in that dusty, little storage room crept in and made me feel claustrophobic. I felt like I was going to gag. Definitely no high necked Victorian col ars today. Instead I grabbed a hoodie with cat ears that made me feel cute and tough at the same time.

  I stared at my reflection in the mirror, trying to look strong, and sighed. The face of a scared little girl looked sorrowful y back at me. Strong? Not so much. How could I possibly face the day without Cal? Okay, I know I wasn’t rockin’ the girl power vibe, but Cal knew exactly how to make me feel better and today was destined to be a day that I real y needed the extra comfort.

  If wishes were horses, beggars would ride. If wishes were werewolves, you’d be by my side.

  Yep, I looked like a gloomy, freaked out kid on the first day of school. I tried quirking one eyebrow at my reflection, but both lifted to my hairline, as usual, making me look even more frightened. With a sigh, I risked triggering my gag reflex and added a spiky studded choker and wrist cuffs for extra courage. At least if the J-team tried to grab me, it would hurt.

  I exchanged my pajama bottoms and fuzzy slippers for a black asymmetrical skirt and tal , steal-toe boots with lots of buckles. My spirit guide didn’t dole out a lot of advice, but her tip about using my legs in a fight had proven useful.

  I hoped the steal-toe boots would give me an added edge.

  Plus, they looked fabulous…and imposing.

  When Emma arrived, I stomped down the stairs and out to the car.

  “Ooh, scary,” Emma said approvingly. “I wouldn’t want to mess with you.”

  “Thanks,” I said, smiling. “I was going for the ‘I may be cute, but don’t touch me’ look.”

  “Mission accomplished,” Emma said, driving. “So, you ready?”

  “I was born ready,” I said.

  I picked at my already chipped black nail polish and looked out the window. When the school building emerged from behind a stand of trees, my heart skipped a beat.

  What if the J-team real y planned to grab me again today?

  Worse, what if they had given up on making me perform necromancy and decided to skip straight to revenge? My palms became sweaty as I imagined alternating nightmare scenarios.

  “Are you sure you’re okay?” Emma asked, putting the car in park.

  “No, not real y, b
ut running away isn’t the answer,” I said. “Plus, there’s no one at my house or the cabin today and I don’t real y want to be alone. Just in case.” Just in case someone hunts me down seeking revenge. It could be the J-team or the Salem witches—

  take your pick.

  “Wel , cal me if you see anything suspicious,” Emma said. “Oh, and Yuki?”

  “Yeah?” I asked.

  “I’d hug you right now, but I don’t want to be impaled by your jewelry,” Emma said.

  I laughed and waved goodbye as we parted ways. As I walked to class I nearly stumbled at the overwhelming smel of motor oil. Don’t worry Dylan, I haven’t forgotten about you.

  *****

  By second period I had a skul -splitting smel impression induced headache. My teacher didn’t hesitate to give me a hal pass to visit the school nurse. I’m not sure if it was my scary, tough-girl outfit or the fact that I was squeezing my head like my hands were al that kept my brain from exploding—it may have been a combination of the two.

  I stumbled to the nurse’s office wary of stealthy figures lurking in doorways. I was jumping at shadows, but thankful y didn’t run into any footbal players along the way.

  The smel of motor oil grew stronger as I approached the nurse’s office. Weird. Why would Dylan feel strongly about the school nurse? Maybe he just felt bad about giving me a headache. I knocked and let myself in, since the door wasn’t locked.

  “Be right there!” the nurse cal ed from behind a moving curtain. I watched her shoes pace back and forth beneath the striped fabric.

  “Can I sit down?” I asked.

  Watching the nurse’s feet pacing behind the curtain was making me dizzy. I sat on the stool beside her desk, but wished that she would offer me a cot to lie down on.

  When the nurse final y came out, I saw a long dark cloak hanging on a hook on the wal and a cot covered in stacks of boxes. Great. It looked like she was using the space for storage. I looked around and didn’t see any other place to take a nap.

  “What can I do for you?” the nurse asked.

  She looked sickly pale and continual y sniffed and rubbed her nose. I hoped she wasn’t contagious.

  “I don’t feel so good,” I said. Understatement of the year. “Could I have something for a headache…and maybe some cold medicine for later?”

  If she did give me her cold, then at least I’d be prepared.

  “I can give you something for your headache, but we misplaced our recent shipment of cold medicine,” she said.

  She started rummaging through a very messy cabinet.

  No wonder she’d lost stuff.

  “Here you go,” the nurse said, handing me a smal paper cup holding two pil s.

  At least she didn’t touch them with her icky germ hands. What kind of nurse doesn’t wash her hands? I thought everyone used that hand sanitizer stuff too, but I didn’t see any. I went to the sink and swal owed the pil s with a mouthful of chlorinated school water. It tasted like it was pumped directly out of the YMCA pool. Gross.

  I thanked the nurse and walked back to class. When I was nearly at my classroom door, I realized where I’d recently seen boxes stamped with the names of popular cold medicines. The supply room where I’d been held hostage by the J-team had been fil ed with those boxes.

  My hands started shaking just thinking about that room and I nearly dropped my hal pass. I considered going back to tel the nurse, but the smel of motor oil increased and I felt queasy. Nerves and ghosts were a bad combination. I looked over my shoulder one more time and stepped back into class.

  When lunchtime came, I hustled to the cafeteria. Head down, I bit my lip and tried to push through the crowd of students hanging out in the hal s. I didn’t want to be caught alone by the J-team.

  I made it to the cafeteria in record time. It was only half ful , but there were already three familiar faces at our table.

  I rubbed my eyes just to be sure I wasn’t hal ucinating.

  Nope, they were stil there. Gordy and Katie were sitting beside each other, shoulders touching, while Emma sat across from them…laughing.

  I smiled and went to spend lunch with my friends. I no longer felt alone or afraid. I could almost forget that the J-team existed.

  “Hey, Freak!” a voice shouted.

  “You’re gonna get it, Witch!” another voice yel ed.

  I froze. Is this what a panic attack feels like? I tried to move, real y I did, but my brain wasn’t listening. If you looked for the little gnomes that made things run smoothly, you’d find a ‘gone fishing’ sign. Really.

  I couldn’t move my arms or legs, though my hands were shaking. My chest contracted and it was impossible to breathe. I started to see sparkly stars and knew I was close to passing out. No, please not in front of the J-team.

  “Hey, Yuki, come sit with us,” Gordy said.

  I felt a hand on my shoulder, it was Emma, and Gordy slid his arm around my waist.

  “Girl you are so much better than they are,” Emma said. She kept her voice low, but firm. “Do not even give them a second thought.”

  “Want some of my cereal?” Katie asked, holding up a mini box of flakes. “I even have soy milk. Emma, um, convinced me not to eat it with cow’s milk.” Gordy and Emma guided me onto a chair while Katie continued to smile and chat like nothing was wrong. My friends absolutely rocked. Even Katie, who I’d only known for such a short time, was a total pro. They knew exactly how to ease me out of my fear stupor.

  I blinked back tears and clenched my fists. Now that I could final y move, I was angry. How dare they terrorize this school? Who gave them the right?

  “I can’t believe they did that,” I said.

  Gordy and Katie looked relieved at my renewed ability to speak, but Emma acted like it was no big deal.

  “The J-team are stil being major jerks,” Emma said, shrugging. “Big shock.”

  “You’re right,” I said. “I don’t know why I got so freaked out.”

  “Because steroids make them scary looking,” Katie said.

  I wasn’t sure if she was making a joke, but I laughed.

  “They do kind of look like Frankenstein,” I said.

  “More like Frankenweenie,” Emma said.

  “I always thought Jared looked like the homunculus Gluttony from Ful Metal Alchemist,” Gordy said. “He acts like him too. And that is not a compliment.” I was real y laughing now. The J-team and their jock friends gave up taunting us. We were having way too much fun to be their targets.

  When lunch ended, Gordy walked me to class and I agreed to wait for him when the next bel rang. My friends didn’t want me walking the hal s alone, especial y with the J-team yel ing obvious threats, and I didn’t want to risk the panic I felt earlier.

  With the help of my friends, I made it through the day.

  Waiting for Gordy to walk me to my classes didn’t leave me with any extra time though, so I didn’t have a chance to visit the school nurse again. I promised myself that I would stop by her office tomorrow and tel her about the crates of cold medicine. I couldn’t tel the nurse the real reason why I had been in the supply room—explaining that I was being held hostage by the footbal team would be al kinds of bad, but if I said that I stumbled onto the medicine while looking for art supplies, she shouldn’t get too suspicious.

  After thanking Gordy, I let Emma drive me home. We were stil planning our reconnaissance ride along Witchtrot Road later that night. I would have rather gone during daylight, but we had to wait until Emma got out of work.

  “It might be better that way, you know, going after dark,” Emma said.

  “Why?” I asked, stifling a yawn. “Won’t it be hard to see any clues?”

  “Dylan had his accident at night, so it might be best to visit Witchtrot Road under the same circumstances,” Emma said. “And the ful moon wil help make things bright enough to see.”

  I was way too tired to argue with Emma’s logic. After another hel ish day at Wakefield High, I was ready for a nap. The gh
ost induced headache continued to pound a stomping march through my skul and my eyes were gritty with fatigue. I could real y use some beauty sleep.

  “I’l bring extra flashlights, you know, in case we need to get out of the car for a closer look,” I said.

  “Good idea,” Emma said, grinning excitedly. “See you tonight.”

  I stumbled out of Emma’s car and up the stairs to fal into bed. Hopeful y we would find some answers tonight. I couldn’t take another day like today. Being terrorized by the J-team was way too stressful. Who knew that fear could be so exhausting?

  *****

  After a shower and nap, I was ready to go. I tossed on a black, bel -sleeved top, long, layered skirt, and my red power boots. Dramatic black eyeliner gave the dark circles under my eyes an intentional look. I twisted my hair up into a messy bun, covering up some serious bed-head, and secured it with hair sticks. The hair sticks made me feel like a ninja with sharp, pointy weapons hidden in my updo.

  Sweet.

  It was long after dark when Emma pul ed into the driveway. My parents were at a movie, so I clomped noisily down the stairs with my backpack stuffed with flashlights. I was probably bringing too many, but being caught out in the dark on a road reputedly haunted by a man murdered for witchcraft and where one student had recently died was not my idea of a good time. You can never be too prepared…

  especial y when on your way to a haunted road, that may carry a deadly curse to those who travel it, late at night.

  What the heck were we thinking?

  I hesitated with my hand on the doorknob. Cal would be disappointed in our rash decision to go plunging headlong into potential danger without him or Simon here to help us, but I was getting desperate. I needed to solve the mystery of Dylan’s death and clear my name. School would start again in a few hours and I didn’t have any way yet of convincing the J-team that I was innocent. I shook my head and pul ed a calming breath deep into my bel y.