Part 2, Entry 1

1 0 0
                                    

Day Five, Fourth Moon, Hunting Year Five Hundred and Four

I don't know how to begin. So much has happened. I'm alive. I almost wasn't, but I am. They lied to us. Mama told us there were witches in the woods. She told us that because her mother and the aunts and uncles and Grandfather Seth and Grandmother Margaret told her so. I'm betting that their parents and the uncles and aunts and grandfathers and grandmothers of their time told them the same thing. I don't know who started it, but if this is Hunting Year Five Hundred and Four, I'd put a few jars of jam and a loaf of bread on the witch-hunting going for at least five hundred and four years.

*****

The uncles came for me three days after Aunt Martha's funeral. It was too easy. They walked in while Michael was at school, and Dad and Grandpa were still in the fields. Mama had been resting and was still groggy when they forced the door open. They said they knocked first, but I'm positive they didn't. They uncles didn't even interrogate me. They didn't have to. One of them told me to fetch them some tea and bread because they were guests and had been on the road all day. Mama jumped up and said she would do it, but one of them put his hand on her shoulder and pushed her into a chair because he wanted me to do it.

That was all they needed. I crossed the kitchen and took the teapot in my arms like it was a baby and set the table using my forearms. It didn't matter to them that I had found a way of doing things in my new situation, and it didn't matter that the paralysis had stabilized and stopped progressing. They confirmed my fear. I had the Curse. I was turning into a witch.

The uncles pretended to test me even through they already knew what I was. One of the them grabbed my hand and told me to grip his. When I couldn't do it, he gave me a push and I toppled over a chair and landed on the hearth. My skirt caught fire and while I smacked the flames out, the splints on my legs became visible. They had me out the door and tossed into a cage at the back of a wagon before I even knew what was happening.

I remember Mama screaming, and I remember seeing Dad running through the corn fields far away, Grandpa following at a distance. They kept running, but they didn't catch up until after the uncles had already started back toward the Common, ringing the bells to tell the Village they found the witch. People rushed out of their doors to watch our little parade go by -- horses at the front with uncles hanging off the wagon on all sides, me in the cage, and Mama and Dad and Grandpa hurrying after. I'm glad Michael was back at school, so I didn't have to see him run after the wagon, too.

I can't remember anything that was said during the trial. No one asked me to speak. I do remember the looks on the faces in the circle. Except for my family, every single person had screwed up their f ace into horrible, angry countenances. They didn't even act like they had ever seen me before.

When the verdict was announced, I heard jeers and hollers, and watched the aunts cast protective herbs and salts around the square. I remember the uncles dragging me to the edge of the woods in my cage before taking me out and frog-marching me through the trees. I was certain they would kill me, but in the end, they must have decided the forest would do that for them. Instead, they destroyed by splints with their heels, tied one of my hands to a tree trunk, and walked away.

*****

I'm so tired. I have a splint on my hand, now, that lets me hold the pen, but I have to form the words using my whole arm, and I'm not good at it yet. I'll have to continue tomorrow.


*****

Ah, we have begun part two! What do you think will happen to Kyla all alone in the wood?

The WoodWhere stories live. Discover now