Children of Salem

of one till now.

“They at our wake, girl,” he whispered in Dancer’s ear where he leaned into her mane. But Jeremy would not give them the satisfaction of acknowledging them whatsoever, and at the same time, he felt a terrible gratification that none of the accusing, gifted children had been left behind by Parris and his entourage. For even so much as a single one of the little devils would surely have pointed him out a warlock for his actions this day. Removing the minister’s daughter from the village. Removing ‘evidence’ from the venue. He realized that once the seer children heard the story of what’d happened his name would be at or near the top of their lists of who must next be accused.

# # # # #

Jeremiah found Serena precisely where he imagined he would, at the barred window of Gatter’s filthy hole, a jail not fit for the lowliest pirate in all history, a place a rat would feel uncomfortable in.

Serena’s two baskets lay empty at her feet where she stood, hands clasped by her mother, Rebecca. Jeremy’s first glimpse of Mother Nurse tore at his heart. She was in need of bathing, her hair wild and tangled with dirt, sweat, and heat. The jail, overcrowded as it was, had become a giant oven, but Gatter had allowed Rebecca a moment outside as he determined her safely shackled.

“Go now, children! And don’t come back,” Rebecca was saying to Serena and Ben, who stood with the wagon, his face a mask of anguish.

When Jeremiah came closer, the crooked, bent jailer, Gatter, held a hand up to him. “What business ’ave ye here, Mr. Wakely? Come to join in the tears and wailin’, ’ave ya?” He followed with a belly laugh that jangled his large keys before the laugh turned into a consumptive coughing that doubled the stunted, little man over. He disappeared in this condition with Rebecca in tow by her chains, replacing her in the grimy dark interior, unfastening her chains, and locking the door behind him.

Gatter shook his head at the young Nurses and Wakely as if they were all fools to be here this way with people looking on. He then wandered off to the back of the short stone building that looked like an earthen oven. In Gatter’s wake followed a chorus of wheezing, snorting, and hacking.

Jeremy understood why people believed in trolls, for Gatter was just that. Rumor had it that he remained drunk day and night. Which meant he had a bottle hidden somewhere nearby—likely where he was headed now.

Ben took this opportunity to pull Serena away from their mother, where she stood at the barred window, her hands wrapped about Rebecca’s. Ben pressed one of the guns he’d brought with him through the bars to his mother, but Rebecca refused it, shoving it back at Ben, who missed catching it. The thing hit the ground but thankfully did not go off. Ben picked it up and gave his mother a hard stare. “Take it, Mother. If not to use on Gatter then to put yourself from misery.” When Ben forced it a second time, she threw it back at him and angrily muttered, “I am no coward, Ben. I do this in His name. Now take your sister and go from here and neither to return!”

This time Ben had caught the weapon sent back to him.

“Father always said you were more stubborn than Maplewood.”

“I am strong in my faith.”

Gatter’s cough signaled his position, just around the corner of the oven. Jeremy grabbed the gun from Ben to slip it below his coat just as the jailer reappeared.

“Be off with ya, now, all of ye!” Gatter ordered. “Time’s up with mum! ’Less you’ve got more funds for ol’ Gatter.”

Ben snatched out his loaded pistol and put it against Gatter’s forehead. “I’d like to pay you in full, Mr. Gatter.”

Serena grabbed her brother, shouting, “Stop it, Ben! Stop now!”

“Ben,” began Jeremy over the crying of Rebecca at the window, “think what you’re doing, man!”

“Go home, Ben!” shouted Rebecca. “And don’t come back—either of you, Serena, Ben! And you, Jeremiah Wakley! You let me down. You promised to get my girl out of this place, yet you’re here! You all know my wishes! You’ve all disappointed me! Now go, go!” She disappeared from the window as if the darkness inside had swallowed her.

# # # # #

“How then did it fare with Mrs. Parris, Jeremy?” asked Serena.

“Yes?”asked Francis at the table back at the Nurse home. “Tell me some good news.”

“Mrs. Parris wanted my advice.”

“Really?”

“What advice?” asked Serena.

“For her child, and at my urging, she has taken Betty and left the village.”

“Left the village?”

“And the colony for family far from here.”

“Parris’ wrath will come down on you the moment he hears,” replied Serena.

“Aye, I suppose so. Let it come.”

“He gets those trained monkeys of his repeating your name,” said Ben from the hearth where he crouched and poked at embers, “and you will be roommates with my mother instead of Serena.”

Francis pounded the table. “I tell the both of you, Serena, to flee, and what do you do? You stay while telling others to run from this madness.”

“It’s the only hope for Betty Parris I believe,” said Jeremy, “in order to come out of the fits torturing her.” Shading his eyes against the setting sun that streamed through the window, Jeremy added, “How goes it with you and Mr. Proctor’s petition before the court?”

Francis bowed his head. “Badly . . . badly, but we have our faith still, and we do what we can to comfort one another. Though there is to be hanging tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” asked Serena, hearing this for the first time. “Mother said not a word, nor did the jailer.”

“Who’s to be hung?” Jeremiah gritted his teeth, silently praying.

“Goode and four others.”

“Four?” Jeremy’s stomach sank. “Four, the number portends no good.”

“Who are among the four?” pleaded Serena.

“Three I know nothing of save they’re all from surrounding villages.”

“Who are they, Father?” Serena had become annoyed with his obvious stalling tactics.”

“Susannah Martin of Amesbury, who spoke as saucily to the judges as had Bridget Bishop, I can tell you.”

“And?”

“Also a Sarah Wildes of Topsfield had a tongue on her, a vile mouth.”

“Father, please!”

“Elizabeth Howe of Ipswich—a saintly lady to be sure.”

“And the fourth?” Serena shook him.

“It was to be Osborne of Salem, but she’s recanted her plea of innocence and has named others. So it fell to your mother, my Rebecca to be tried next.”

“Tried and . . . ” began Jeremy.

“They can’t be serious!” cried out Serena.

“Oh, they’re serious!” replied Ben.

Jeremy stomped his boot against the floor. “Damn the fools! God, I’ve seen it before, both in Maine and in Connecticut. They want a hanging, they will have a hanging. But five in one day, I’ve never seen the like of, no.”

“Goode yes,” said Francis sadly. “Osborne for sure a witch or maybe, but the others? I’d never have guessed it’d come to five found guilty and hung here in Salem.”

“All in a matter of a few months. Doesn’t make sense; doesn’t sit well.” Serena put her arm around her father, her thoughts obviously with her mother, and what this news heralded.

Jeremy thought of Serena hanging onto her mother’s hands through the grimy little prison window. He then imagined Serena and her family having to watch Mother Nurse’s public execution. The others had fallen silent, contemplating their worst fears coming true. If the authorities carried through with a sextuplet hanging, what would stay their hand from repeating the act? And who would be among the next six marked for death? Jeremiah’s own