The Turning

by Linda Watkins

  I bought the grain, albeit at too dear a price. All I wanted was to leave the market and return to the farmhouse where I could lock myself away and cry.

  The next days dragged by. I barely spoke to anyone, not even little Samuel. All I could see was Micah’s face and the anger etched thereon. I had been faithless in his eyes and I longed to be given the chance to explain. But I knew from those fleeting moments at the market, that the odds of that happening were negligible. And, so, at a loss for what to do, I threw myself back into the work of the farm and caring for my stepson.

  A few days later, one of our mares was ready to foal. She was a skittish one and I feared she might have a rough time of it. She went into labor early evening and, after serving Josiah supper, I wrapped a shawl around my shoulders, took a lantern, and ventured out to the barn to see how she was progressing.

  When I arrived at the stall, I could see she was having a difficult time and I knelt down beside her to see what I could do. It didn’t take long to discover that the birth was breech and I rolled up my sleeves and set to trying to turn the foal before it was too late.

  I don’t know how long I labored, but, in the end, I was pleased to be part of the birth and I smiled as I watched the sweet colt nurse at his mother’s teats.

  Rolling my sleeves back down, I leaned over to pick up my lantern, knowing I would sleep well that night. I turned to go, but was shocked to see someone standing in the stall’s doorway. It was the figure of a man, but in the dim light of the barn, I could not make out who it was. Assuming it was one of the hands, I pasted a smile on my face and moved forward.

  “My Maude.”

  I stopped. Only one person had ever called me that. I took a deep breath, then held the lantern out in front of me, illuminating his face.

  “My Micah,” I whispered in reply, my heart pounding.

  “Why, Maude?” he asked, his voice tinged with anger and with fear. “Why marry? I would have come for you. Why?”

  I leaned against the doorframe, afraid my legs might crumple beneath me.

  “It wasn’t my choice. If I’d thought there was a chance … a chance that you would come, I would have never … But, I had no word. You were gone from me and I knew not where to look for you. I asked Imelda to find you, but I never heard from her again. You were lost and my parents … my church … all pushed me toward Mr. Abbott … but please believe, the marriage is loveless. He rarely …”

  My voice trailed off. I knew not what more to say. I had been faithless and deserved Micah’s wrath.

  Time seemed to stand still. Then, he reached for me and pulled me roughly into his arms.

  “I am the one who should beg for forgiveness. I left you. I shouldn’t have listened to my mother. I should have insisted you come with me. But I was weak.”

  “There is nothing to forgive,” I said. “We were young – we didn’t know any better. All that matters now is that you’re here … that we’ve found each other again.”

  “Yes,” he said, caressing my cheek with his hand. “And, I don’t care that you’re married. You were my wife before all others. That can never change.”

  I looped my arms around his neck and gazed up into his eyes, which were liquid with emotion.

  “I am yours now and forever, my Micah.”

  With those words, he leaned down and kissed me, first gently, then with passion. I met his ardor with my own and we sank, together, to the soft straw that covered the floor of the stall.

  Later, we lay in each other’s arms, listening to the sounds of the mare and her foal, rejoicing silently in our love. Finally, he sat up, looking around.

  “It’s almost light,” he said. “I should go.”

  I nodded, knowing it was past time for me to return to the house.

  “Yes, but when will I see you again?”

  “I’m not sure,” he said. “We need a way to contact each other. Does Imelda still have her shop? Do you think she would be agreeable to act as go-between?”

  “Yes, she’s still in business. I haven’t seen her since I married, but her shop is still there. I’m sure she would help. I go to market every Saturday. I’ll find a way to speak with her. If she agrees, I will leave a note for you.”

  “Good. Saturday is our holy day, but I can find an excuse to get away on Sunday.”

  “Yes, that would be good. Imelda is not religious so I don’t expect she will be in church.”

  Reluctantly, he stood, rearranging his clothing. “I hate to leave you, my Maude. But, if your husband finds me here, there will be hell to pay. Even if he is not enamored of you, his pride would take a beating.”

  I stood, brushing the hay from my skirts. “Kiss me, then go.”

  He did as I commanded and I stood in the stall doorway, watching as he swiftly left the barn. I waited five minutes, then, tucking my hair into my cap, I, too, left the barn to return to the house.

  My husband was waiting for me in the kitchen.

  “Where have you been, Wife?” he asked, a touch of anger in his tone.

  I yawned, theatrically. “The mare foaled last night. It was breech. I helped her.”

  “And, did they survive?”

  “Yes, Josiah. Both are well and the colt is nursing fine. I’m sorry, I guess I fell asleep in the stall.”

  Josiah smiled. “No need to be sorry. You did what any good wife would do. I’m proud of you.”

  Surprised by the compliment, I blushed. “Thank you, Husband.”

  “And, here,” he said, reaching into his pocket. “When next you go to market, buy yourself something pretty.”

  He placed a coin in my hand and then, without a word, finished his coffee and strode out of the room.

  I stared at the money, shocked, then quickly tucked it away in my apron, lest he come back and change his mind.

  Dangerous Times

  ON SATURDAY, OUR hired boy, Jedidiah, and I proceeded on our customary journey to market. After purchasing much-needed supplies, I turned to my young charge.

  “Here, Jed, you have done well today. Take this penny and go amuse yourself. I can finish up without you.”

  My generosity surprised him and, with a big grin, he thanked me and ran off to spend his treasure.

  Now, away from his prying eyes, I quickly made my way toward Imelda’s shop.

  When I arrived at the door, I was surprised to see the shutters closed. Today was market day and Imelda’s shop was usually bustling with customers. However, that was not the case today. Hesitantly, I reached for the knob, worried that I might find it locked. But it was not. The door opened easily and I entered the shop accompanied by the tinkling of the bells that hung on the inside.

  “I’ll be with you directly,” shouted a voice from the back – a voice I knew all too well.

  “No hurry,” I replied. “It’s me, missus, Maude.”

  A moment later, Imelda, looking exactly the same as the day I first met her, came quickly from her quarters, wiping her hands on a towel as she moved.

  “Little dove,” she cooed. “It has been so long. Let me look at you.”

  She took a moment, appraising me. Then swooped in and kissed me on both cheeks, European-style.

  “You look wonderful. A woman grown. Sit. I will make tea and you can tell me all about married life.”

  I did as she instructed and, when we both had a warm cup of tea in front of us, I told her of my life with Josiah and of the return of Micah.

  “So, he is back,” she said. “I heard rumor of it, but was not sure.”

  “Why, missus, didn’t you ever contact me about him?” I asked.

  She pursed her lips, then took a sip of her tea.

  “Times are difficult, little dove,” she said. “There is talk in the churches and alleyways – talk of witches and witchery.”

  “Witchcraft? Here? How so?”

  “Have you not heard what is happening in Salem? Young girls such as yourself telling lies about wise women – women who deal in herbs or midwifery. Women bein
g put in the stocks or worse. These are dark times, indeed.”

  She went on in detail about the events occurring in Salem and the rumors that were spreading throughout the Colony.

  “But how does that affect you and I?”

  “Oh, child, can’t you see? What we do, though harmless in intent, is considered by the pious to be tainted and unknown. To them, the unknown is always to be feared. And, from fear comes danger and, sometimes, death.”

  She again took a sip of her tea, watching me carefully over the rim of her cup. Not knowing what to say, I sat silent. Finally, sighing, she rose, went to the kitchen, and came back with a plate of cookies.

  “Here,” she said. “Have a sweet. It will give you sustenance.”

  I took a cookie and waited. Finally, she spoke.

  “I have heard rumor of a woman – wife of a farmer – who lives not far from here. She has become known as a healer in her district, her knowledge of herbs and remedies unsurpassed. At first, this knowledge was valued and praised, but, as the rumors from Salem spread, that praise has changed to suspicion and fear. In addition, since she arrived at the farm, her husband has become the envy of all his neighbors. When their crops fail, his thrives. When their livestock take ill, his are robust and lively. At first, they just envied him, but now, in this climate of fear, envy has turned to hatred and they have come to blame their woes on his wife, whom they now whisper about and sometimes call ‘witch.’”

  My mouth gaped and my hand shook, spilling my tea. “Are you talking about our farm and about me?” I asked.

  She hesitated, then nodded. “I fear for you, little dove, and for myself as well. The pious churchgoers may speak in whispers now, but it will not be long before they make their voices heard loud and clear. Zachariah Palmer, who has grown to be a prominent man, has been heard saying that it is time for a cleansing. Now, tell me the truth. What have you gotten yourself into on that farm?”

  I took a deep breath, remembering my husband’s guest and the nights he walked with me – nights that seemed like dreams now. Slowly, staring at my cup, I told Imelda everything I remembered.

  When I finished, she reached over and took my hand in hers. “So, the old one has set his sights on your Samuel and has tricked you into a bargain.”

  I nodded.

  She sighed deeply, then picked up a cookie and took a bite. “I rue the day I let that old body thief into my house.”

  “What do you mean, ‘body thief?’” I asked.

  “Oh, child, haven’t you guessed?”

  I shook my head.

  She sighed. “Morrison is more than just a conjurer. No one knows exactly how old he is, but he is ancient. And, no one knows how or when he acquired his power. He is a body thief. When his body wears out, he sheds it and claims another. Sometimes he does this through a false bargain like yours, but other times, he just steals what is not his.”

  “I don’t understand. How can he claim another’s body? And what of the soul?”

  “Ah, little dove, it gets worse. When he takes a body, the soul is still intact. But, as time passes, he devours it, slowly, and, when it is gone, he knows it is time for him to take another or perish.”

  I shuddered. “But what of this bargain I supposedly made? What can I do to break it?”

  “I know not. For what’s done is done and cannot be easily changed. Keeping your Samuel safe will be hard, but we’ll see what we can do. However, the old man has put you in mortal danger with his schemes. You will have to leave the Colony and soon.”

  “Micah would take me away,” I said. “But he needs time to make sure his brother can support his family. I will talk to him and see if things can be moved along more swiftly. But what about you? Would you leave all you have worked for and come with us?”

  “Aye,” she replied. “Myself and others. We are not alone in this, little dove, and Boston is growing cold. ‘Tis time to move on.”

  We sat quietly for a while, sipping our tea and eating the cookies until Imelda broke the silence.

  “But why did you come to visit me today? You must have a reason.”

  Again, I nodded and told her about the need to exchange messages with Micah. She readily agreed to act as our go-between. Relieved, I handed her a slip of paper.

  “He will come by tomorrow, on the Sabbath.”

  She took the paper and tucked it into her blouse. “I will see that he gets your missal.”

  I glanced at the clock. “I must go now. Our boy, Jedidiah, will be wondering what has become of me.”

  “Then fly away, little dove. Talk to your Micah. But do not tarry long. The voices of intolerance get louder every day.”

  I nodded and got to my feet, hugging her before I left.

  When I arrived back at the marketplace, I found Jedidiah waiting by our wagon.

  “I was worried, Mistress Abbott,” he said. “I asked around for you, but no one had seen you.”

  “I had business with one of the shopkeepers. Private business. Do you think you can keep my absence to yourself?”

  As I asked, I reached into my purse and removed another penny and placed it in his hand. He looked at his palm, astonished, then back up at me.

  “Yes, Mistress. Your business is your business and none of mine.”

  “Good. Now, let’s get on home. Mr. Josiah will be wanting his supper.”

  Planning for the Future

  THE NEXT FEW days passed slowly. Now that I knew about the gossip being tendered about me, I became more aware of my surroundings. I often caught our foreman, Abraham, staring at me, a peculiar look on his face. And, even my husband, seemed more inclined to keep his distance – even more so than before.

  I planned to meet Micah mid-week. I would make an excuse to visit the neighboring village, but, instead, rendezvous with him at an abandoned farm on the way. I was anxious to speak to him – to tell him of Imelda’s fears. My worry increased when, the night before, my husband decided to forgo supper with me and, instead, said he would dine with our foreman. This was not highly unusual, for he and Abraham had some sort of bond that was beyond my knowledge or understanding. They often dined or spent evenings together, walking the fields or tending to livestock. However, in light of Imelda’s revelations, I now began to look at these encounters with new eyes. Was Josiah avoiding me? Or, more importantly, was he leery of the food I prepared for him? Did he think I was capable of poisoning? Or worse, casting a spell upon him? I tried to convince him to stay and sup with me, but he was adamant. When he returned, he retired to his room without a word and I could distinctly hear the lock click after he closed his door.

  On Wednesday morn, I asked Jedidiah to harness the mare to the buggy so that I might visit a neighbor who was sickly. The boy did as I bade, however, he, too, now seemed to look at me strangely and was careful to keep his distance.

  As I drove away from the farm, I wondered if my imagination wasn’t working overtime. Perhaps, the stares and furtive glances I was now seeing were only a product of my anxious and worried mind.

  Micah was waiting at the farmhouse when I arrived. Just seeing him set my heart aflame and I melted into his arms as soon as we were inside. The building was falling apart, the floor dirty and littered with debris, but we didn’t care – glad only to be in each other’s arms again.

  Later, as we lay together, I broached the subject of leaving the Colony.

  “Imelda is worried, my love. She says there is talk of witches and sorcery in the town and that I and others may be the subject of that gossip.”

  He took my hand in his and gazed into my eyes, his expression serious. “I, too, have heard the talk, though I did not hear your name mentioned. What is happening in Salem is an abomination, but, I fear, most believe it to be true. My people laugh at these rumors, but I know your church is deadly serious. We must leave soon.”

  “Yes,” I replied, relieved that he understood the gravity of the situation. “But how?”

  “I’ve secured a wagon and plan to bid on a p
air of oxen at the auction on market day. We could use a cow, but I don’t see how I could afford it right now. We’ll just have to make do.”

  “Where will we go?” I asked, anxiously.

  Micah smiled. “Don’t worry, my Maude, I have been thinking about this and have a plan in mind. We’ll go north – to the New Somerset Colony. There is a settlement there called Falmouth. It’s a seaside village and there are numerous islands along the coast. We could settle one of these. It would be our safe harbor, my love. You could grow your herbs and I could fish. What say you?”

  I stared at him. “An island?”

  “Yes, an island,” he replied with a smile.

  I grinned. His enthusiasm was contagious. “Then, we will be islanders,” I said.

  He grinned back at me. “Good. We’ll plan on leaving two weeks’ hence. In the meantime, gather what you can from the farm in the way of provisions and I will do the same in town. Make your way to Imelda’s and let her know what we’re planning.”

  I nodded. It would be done and Micah and I would finally be together. My only regret was that I would have to leave little Samuel behind. But that couldn’t be helped. He was Josiah’s by blood and only mine by marriage.

  Micah and I spent the rest of the afternoon talking of our future. When it was time to go, we planned meet again in one week’s time.

  “Take care, my Maude,” he said as he mounted his horse. “If anything happens, come to me. I’ll figure something out.”

  I nodded. “I will. But I think everything will be all right. I love you.”

  “And I, you. You are my life, sweet girl.”

  With those words, he turned his horse and galloped off, waving as he left. I watched, my heart bursting with love, then returned to my buggy and headed back to the farm.

  An Unfortunate Accident

  WHEN I ARRIVED home, I was surprised to see Josiah sitting in one of the wagons, waiting while Abraham harnessed the horse.