“There was a time, Francis Nurse, when you’d’ve risked the stocks for me.”
“You are in fine tune, aren’t you, my lovely harp.” He kissed his wife on the lips.
“Careful now! In front of your daughter.”
“Oh, Mother, shall I leave you two alone?” Serena coyly offered.
“No! We have too much work to do.”
“All the others’ll bring a dish,” countered Serena. “I think we’ll have plenty.”
“Aye, a party,” Francis shouted, “and a fine party it’s to be. All is set for tomorrow noon then?”
“It is.” Serena hugged her father.
“All of the rascals, big and small, have their orders then?” added Francis.
“I want to thank you two dears for making this happen,” replied Rebecca.
“Happen it will,” said Francis, “like a ship come to ground. No stopping it, now.”
“I am fatigued,” announced Rebecca, laboring to her feet with Francis’ help. “Think I’ll take sleep.”
“I’ll help you upstairs,” suggested Serena.
“That’s
“Neither of you have to bother.”
“What?” asked Serena.
“I’m done with that sick room for a time.”
“Meaning?” asked Francis.
“I’m going to sleep in Benjamin’s old room, right down here. He’s not using it.”
“The stairs’ve gotten difficult for me, too,” commented Francis.
“Has nothing to do with the stairs,” complained Rebecca, swiping at him. “I can
make the stairs!”
“Good, good.”
Rebecca rose and moved through the house, gray-haired, her sunken cheeks crisscrossed with wrinkles from having lost so much weight. She went to the porch and stood in the night air, staring out at the work they’d done. “The circle is in place, lantern’s hung,” she muttered, seeing a strange movement in the nearby wood. Squinting, she saw that it was that addled Sarah Goode, and she was carrying something oddly like a child but too stiff to be a child, yet a child nonetheless—a wooden doll with yellow hair.
“What mischief is that daft old woman up to?” she asked Francis as he joined her, placing a shawl over her shoulders.
“Who’re you talking about? I see no one.”
“I think it was Goode.”
“That odd creature? Did you hear bells, bottles jingling?”
“I thought it a sleigh in the distance, but yes, I did.”
“Every village must have its witch,” he muttered, “as well we know.”
“How else can we faithful hope to measure our goodness if not for such as Sarah Goode?”
He nodded and thought of his responsibilities as Deacon under Samuel Parris’ Meetinghouse. “I daresay you’re right there.”
“No woman was ever so sorely miss-named as Goode, eh?” She laughed and placed an arm around Francis.
Francis nodded appreciatively. “Curses like a sailor. Word has it, she gave Mr. Parris a tongue-lashing of the first order ’bout a week ago.”
“Is that so?” asked Rebecca, curious.
“I’ve only heard ’bout it down at Ingersoll’s.”
“No good can come of that gossip Ingersoll.”
“Goode laid into Sam hard, or so it’s told, right at the commons, middle of the day.”
“I have a bad feeling,” said Serena, joining them, “that Goode is up to
Francis lit his pipe. “They say she’s spreading as much venom about the parish and Parris as she can.”
“Venom, eh?” Serena helped her mother to the porch swing.
“In the form of cursing Mr. Parris and the parish house.”
“That parish house surely needs no more curse on it than it already has,” replied Rebecca, swinging now with Serena softly pushing.
“Too true! Found out by previous occupants!” She held back a laugh.
“Nothing funny about that, girl!” decried Francis, turning on her. “You’d think the village parish house haunted.” Francis puffed on his pipe. “Burroughs, Bailey before him, and Deodat Lawson—all stricken in one foul measure or another.”
Serena shrugged. “Maybe the parsonage is haunted.”
“And now?” asked Rebecca, “Everyone believes it’s Parris’ turn, I suppose.”
Francis exhaled smoke into the night sky. “I suppose everyone does.”
Serena bit her lip. “He’s not helped his cause with his last several sermons, I can tell you.”
“I can’t believe you continue to go down to hear such self-indulgence as you’ve described—either of you,” said Rebecca. “The man has no shame.”
“I go because I remain a deacon there and Parris has most of the elders and deacons in his pocket.”
“Give it up the, Father!” countered Rebecca.
“I will fight this business ’til—”
“Until Parris manages to replace you, Father?” asked Serena.
“Ah, and he likes calling me stubborn!” Rebecca laughed. “But what about, you, Serena?” Rebecca busied herself with releasing ties from her hair. “Why do you go to hear Parris?”
“I go to support Father, of course! The only deacon left to stand against the man.” Serena had begun to put her mother’s thin hair into a fresh bun. Such activity between them had become so routine that no words were needed.
“Careful, Francis,” began Rebecca, “else some of that village poison will spill in our cups.”
“Careful it is. Steady as she goes.”
“Are you speaking of me now?” Rebecca laughed.
“Yes, and off to bed with you both,” he said, “wherever you choose to lie your head.”
“Not me,” countered Serena, going to the end of the porch and leaping off. Her parents knew where she was off to—the stables. “I’m going for a ride before bed.”
“Why do you wish to worry us so?” asked Francis. “Look at you in Ben’s old chaps and hat. Riding astride a horse like a man!”
“Let her go, old man!” Rebecca scolded so that Serena didn’t have to argue with her father.
“She’s got in this habit of…of wandering the night, Mother. Looks bad.”
“To whom? And why do we care?” Serena burst out, wishing she hadn’t.
“If it’s so proper, young lady, then why not ride in daylight?”
Serena rushed out and shouted over her shoulder from the porch, “I won’t leave the property. Promise.”
Alone now, watching their youngest disappear into the barn, Rebecca asked, “Will you come into my bed tonight, Francis?”
“Ben’s bed?”
“Ben’s room, yes.”
“I will.”
They embraced, neither seeing young Serena watching from the stable where she saddled her horse. She’d gotten into the habit of riding the property each night, weather permitting. She climbed onto her horse, Nightshade, and she soon galloped in the general direction of the river—
From inside the house, Serena’s aging parents heard the hooves of her thundering horse as she raced off.
