“Okay, I pretty much got up to that part. That’s what my mama had told me.” I said, and then Katelyn paused, giving me another one of those coy looks for having interrupted her again. But then before going on with her story she walked over towards me having then sat down next to me on the slab of bedrock that I was currently stretched out on sunning myself. She then leaned back bracing herself with her arms that she’d locked at the elbows before she began rolling her head around on her neck and shoulders, as if she were feeling out the sun’s intense rays on her pallid skin. When she was finally satisfied with her place on the rock, and had become accustomed to the sun’s glaring brilliance stinging her eyes (noticeable by her rapid blinking) she finally continued, having made me wait in anticipation.
“So, after Abellona and Alcina’s arrest...” And then Katelyn paused yet again saying to me. “And you’ll want to keep in mind that this is all just stuff I’ve heard and managed to piece together over the years, so I might not have the whole story completely right. And, your grandmother wouldn’t really go into too much detail with me so...”
“Just go on.” I said gruffly—anxious to hear the rest of the story.
She then gave me another one of her coy looks, and I knew then with utter certainty that she was just having fun dragging out the story because she knew it was eating me up inside to know what my family’s connection to Abellona Abbott and her curse on the village was.
Annoyed. I said to her, “Well...” and then she just looked at me for a long moment, her lips pursed and blackened by her dark lipstick before finally giving in and picking back up where she’d left off.
“Okay, well, you know how Abellona and Alcina were both sentenced to death for practicing witchcraft? Well, what I had gathered was that Alcina wasn’t even given a trial. The villagers had just pronounced her guilty, immediately sentencing her to death, and then had carried out her execution. Basically, they’d had enough of her and just wanted to get rid of her once and for all.
“And, as for Abellona’s fate. The villagers figured they would dunk her right down here in the Genesee River until she had either confessed to them—which they said would save her soul—or she drowned. It was pretty much the standard operating procedure for a woman accused of witchcraft at the time.
“Abellona wouldn’t confess, though. So, they tied her down to a chair which they then weighted down with rocks before shoving her into the river. The theory was that if she drowned, they would have considered her innocent of witchcraft and have had given her a normal burial. And if she didn’t drown. They would have considered her guilty of being a witch, and would have then pulled her back up from the water only to burn her at the stake just like they had done with Alcina.”
“It was the local priest or reverend who had pushed her in, wasn’t it?” I then asked and quickly began searching my noggin for his name. “Was his name—Joseph Baker?” I said after having come up with it.
“Yeah, that’s right, Joseph Baker was his name.” Katelyn concurred, and seemed a little surprised that I had already known all this, and had heard of him, but then she went on. “Now, the story goes that before Abellona’s trial and execution been carried out, she had spent a night in the stocks. You know, that weird contraption that would lock your head and hands between two blocks of wood, and would leave you dangling all hunched over like an asshole?”
I just nodded in concurrence that I understood what it was, and Katelyn kept going.
“Well, during the night, it’s said that your distant relative, Emma Barrett, who was Abellona’s best friend, came to visit her while everyone else in the village slept.”
It was at that very moment. When Katelyn had said the name Emma Barrett that the image of her vandalized grave with the word WITCH spray painted across it in big, red, capital letters came into my mind again. But I didn’t want to stop Katelyn again from going on with the story so I kept silent not mentioning it to her.
Katelyn continued on without missing a beat saying, “Emma had brought Abellona food and water during the night, and had tried to comfort her given that she’d been stuck awkwardly in a bent over position that the stock had her locked in.
“Abellona, scared shitless and panicking began to plead with Emma for her help in finding a way of releasing her from the stock. Emma though, not wanting to get caught out at night, or in any trouble for having given Abellona food and water for that matter, had refused her friend’s pleas to help release her, telling her that she just couldn’t risk it. Abellona had then continued to beg Emma for help, telling her that nobody would ever know that she’d been the one to have helped her. That she would disappear off into the forest and live out her days by herself just like Alcina had. But Emma stubbornly continued to refuse her friend’s requests. Even after Abellona had told Emma that the village had accused her and Alcina of witchcraft—which at the time was a serious offense against God.
“Emma had already known, though, of the accusations the villagers had levied against Alcina and Abellona. She had also already known of Alcina’s execution, it having been carried out earlier in the day. She then informed Abellona about it. About how the villagers had taken Alcina over to the river where they had built up a pyre, and how they tied her to a pole at its center, lighting it ablaze whiles her cries of anguish went unheeded.
“The story goes that then Abellona began to scream and cry when Emma had told her the news of what the villagers had done to Alcina. Emma, eventually having to quiet her down by putting her hand over Abellona’s mouth so that none of the villagers would be awakened by her.
“Abellona continued on with her begging of Emma to help her escape. Fearing that in the morning, at first sun up, when her trial would supposedly commence she would meet the same fate as Alcina.
“Emma tried convincing Abellona not to worry about the triaforl, saying that the village elders would never kill her like they had Alcina. Emma then told her that the only reason why they had killed Alcina Wilcott was because the villagers had thought that she was an old hag who was corrupting the village children, taking them away from God, and what was moral. Emma also told Abellona that her sister, Victoria, had overheard some of the village elders talking and they had said that they’ve wanted to get rid of Alcina once-and-for-all for quite some time but didn’t have any legitimate way of doing so. But now, they had felt that they had proof of Alcina’s corruption of the village children when she, being Abellona, been caught conspiring with Alcina at her home in the forest.
“Emma insisted to Abellona that the villagers had no real plans for carrying out any form of corporal punishment against her, a member of the village, and would never even consider it. Especially, giving the fact that she was still considered a child. Emma wanted to assure Abellona that everything the villagers were planning on doing to her the next morning was all just bullshit. Designed to scare her into a confession where afterwards they would punish her with only a shit-load of village chores, and a few extra sessions at church as to absolve her of her sins. And, besides, there were Abellona’s parents, David and Edith Abbott, who would never have allowed the village to go forth with the murder of their child, right.”
I didn’t know right then if Katelyn was asking me a question or not, and I certainly didn't have an answer for her if she was so I just shrugged my shoulders, and she kept going.
“Well, Emma eventually leaves Abellona where she found her, hanging in the stock, completely frightened and alone while she sneaks off back to her house without ever having been caught.”
I watch as Katelyn then takes a long swig of her rapidly warming beer.
“Now it’s said that at some point in the middle of the night, below the yellow light of a full moon, Abellona starts to pray, frantically praying to whoever will listen. She prays to God, and gets no answer. Like he's ever answered anybody, right? Then, it’s said she started praying to Hecate the Greek goddess of witchcraft, and again she gets no immediate reply. But, then... Then, it’s believed that just b
efore dawn, mere moments before Abellona could see the first telltale signs of daylight cresting over the forest of Mt. Harrison. That she starts to go crazy with fright, and in her delirious state, writhing and thrashing herself about in the stock, like a coyote ready to chew its own leg off to get out of a hunter's snare. At this point, it’s believed by many, that she begins to pray to the Devil as she continues to pull and work her bruised and bloodied neck and hands out of the inexorable manacles. She prays for him to take her away, to free her from the horror that awaits her at daybreak.
“And it was just when Abellona was about ready to pass out from exhaustion after having been struggling in the stock all night. As she hangs her head down ready to give up, to accede to her fate, then at that very moment he appears, or at least, whatever the hell he is then shown up. You know the half goat, half man thing, or whatever the Devil may be? He tells Abellona that he’s willing to make a deal with her. He tells her that there’s nothing he can do for her physically in this world because this world is God’s domain. That he had created it, and therefore it belongs to him. He tells her that his powers in this realm are relegated only to influence, and that he cannot interject in any physical ways. But, her soul is a different story all together though. He tells her that her soul belongs to her and her alone. That her soul is the greatest gift that God has bestowed upon her—upon us all—that we’ve been given the free will to do with it as we wish.
“The Devil then tells Abellona that if she is willing to sell her soul to him. He’d be willing to grant her powers, essentially making her a wizard of some sort. But there were no female wizards back then so she would have undoubtedly become known to the people of these parts as being a witch. Which is kind of the same thing when you really think about it?
“Anywho, the Devil then tells Abellona that he’s willing to grant her these powers—which won’t become effective until after her soul has left her earthly body—along with a two hundred year lease on her soul before he would come to collect what, by then, would rightfully be his. He says he’s willing to give her this time here in this realm—Earth—so she could use her new powers to exact whatever revenge she’d want on whomever she wished. And to be able to do as she pleased here in this realm before she would have to ultimately go with him into the searing underbelly of the earth.
“Abellona being clearly angry and terrified of dying ultimately accepted the Devil’s offer.”
At that point I step in just to reiterate what Katelyn had already told me. So, I had said to her, “So let me get this straight. She (Abellona) sells her soul to the Devil, and he makes her a witch. Then, she curses the village, which she really can't do until after she's dead. She then dies when she gets thrown into the river here. The villagers then take her body and bury her up in these woods high atop Mt. Harrison somewhere. The Devil keeps up his end of the bargain granting her soul powers and the ability to stay in this realm. And now, for the last almost three hundred years she’s been tormentin’ the villagers and my family because she’s angry at them for killin’ her and Alcina. She’s hotter than a four-peckered Billy goat at my family because she thinks one of my great, great ancestors, this Emma Barrett, betrayed her when she didn’t help her escape during that night in the stocks?”
“That’s pretty much it in a nutshell.” Katelyn then said to me with a shrug, and then added, “I don’t know what a four-peckered Billy goat is or why it’s so mad, but yeah, you got the gist of it.”
I thought for a moment about her story, and then realized that something about it wasn't sitting right with me, so I asked Katelyn. “So, if the Devil gave her a two hundred year lease on her soul, and afterwards he planned on collecting. Then why is it that she’s still coming around? I mean, why is Abellona still here in this realm? Shouldn’t she have went to Hell like almost a hundred years ago?”
Katelyn had finished her beer before answering me, which I was confident by then that it was nothing more than warm, flat swill at this point. She then handed me back the empty saying, “I don’t know. I think your grandmother knew why though. But she wouldn’t tell me for some reason. I’m not really sure if there’s anybody who really knows the answer to that anymore. But Abellona must have found a way somehow... A way of keeping her soul here in Mt. Harrison, or a way of keeping the Devil from collecting what’s rightfully his.”
“Well, whatever it is, that’s still a pretty fucked up story.” I said leaving things at that.
“Yes, it is. And the real fucked up thing is, it’s true.” Katelyn then said, sounding as if now that she’d told me the story my opinion of witchcraft had suddenly changed somehow.
“That’s debatable.” I then told her, still not willing to concede my position on the subject.
After having heard Katelyn's account of the Abellona Abbott story, the two of us just continued to sit there on the banks of the river for a bit longer allowing our intoxication to let us feel good while we began soaking our feet down in the cool water. After a while though, I began to feel myself come down off my high while simultaneously beginning to get a little warm. So, I suggested to Katelyn that maybe we should head off for a little hike through the forest where we could be within the shade of the forest canopy.
The sun was just about hitting its peak right above us, and I knew from my time drinking with my friends back in Alabama that when it was this hot outside, it’s always best to get somewhere within the shade. Because there was nothing worse than coming down from a beer buzz in the punishing sun. I mean, it would make you hurt worse than a dog’s peter after humping a porcupine.
A Lesson in Witchcraft
I had grabbed my bag, and we began making our way through the Pine Barrens. When we had first entered the trees I had found myself listening to the hum of the sibilant branches as they gently swayed in the breeze. It was right then that I had realized that Katelyn had never told me about how she, the bitches, and my grandmother were all tied into the story of Abellona Abbott. So as we moved on up the gently, ascending hillside, I had asked her about it. And as we began dredging through the ferns and prickly nettles that had raked me up something awful the last time I was there in the forest. She began telling me about it.
Katelyn had started off by telling me about how after the last sickness had ended (The weird influenza that the doctors could never figure out what it truly was.) and how the villagers had all gone off and gotten their pitchforks and torches to chase my grandmother out of village after having blamed it all on her. (Figuratively speaking, of course,) Then that was when Harlin, Donnie, Erik, along with the three bitches had all decided that they would be the ones to teach my grandmother a lesson and hopefully end up driving her out of Mount Harrison forever in doing so. Katelyn told me that they had wanted her to help them in their plan, but she had refused saying that what they were planning on doing just wasn’t right.
What the boys had cooked up was something that they had reckoned they would’ve had no problems at all with getting away with because my grandmother was all alone, alienated, and nobody was going to believe her anyway.
The boys had surmised that if they succeeded in their plan they would've also had the backing along with the gratitude of all the other people in the village. So, in their tiny minds, they would’ve been regarded as heroes instead of the criminals which they really were.
Katelyn went on telling me that by that point—the end of the influenza—my grandmother hadn’t really ventured out of her house much, if at all, anymore. Mostly on account of every time she did. Somebody from the village would confront her by getting up in her face about either their children being sick, or the bad luck they’d been experiencing lately, or about whatever bullshit they could come up with to blame on her. Hysteria amongst the villagers had grown to the point that my grandmother’s very existence in the village became the origin of everybody’s woes.
So, it was on a Saturday night in early autumn that the bitches along with their meatheads had decided to exact their genius scheme. They
had planned to steal a bunch of chickens from one of the neighboring farms that was not too far outside of the village limits. After abducting the birds’ they would then bring them over to my grandmother’s house where they would then cut the birds throats, so that they would bleed out. They’d then hang the carcasses upside down from the trees scattered throughout the property while also nailing one to the front door of the house. Harlin Tapp had gotten the idea to do this after reading some hogwash on the internet that said it would work to drive away witches. It had been sixteenth century hokum.
Katelyn who was already a vegetarian and a lover of animals (Not in the sick way you're thinking of. Get your perverted little mind out of the gutter.) of course not only flat-out refused to take any part in what they were planning to do, but had also said she had pleaded with them not to go through with it at all. The bitches and the meatheads had then shunned her for her refusal to help, and commenced in giving her grief about it for days, saying she was a coward and a traitor. They had told her that she should keep her witch loving ass at home, to wait for the next sickness that would surely strike the village again soon, hopefully taking her out first. Keri Mahan had even told Katelyn that she hoped that Abellona Abbott came to collect her soul next.
Katelyn then told me that she couldn't, in good conscience just sit idly by while doing nothing to stop them as they slaughter those innocent birds and tormented an old woman. She had felt that she had to tell someone, or do something, anything, not only for the sake of the helpless chickens—which I had figured were going to eventually meet their demise by the steely blade of a butcher’s knife anyhow—but also because she felt terrible for my grandmother, a woman who, up to that point, she had never even met.
In the Forest of Light and Dark Page 18