X Salem II

Part IISighing will not help me to get rid of this obscure feeling that followed meever since I found out I had to leave Boston, I feel estranged all of a sudden,i've never felt like this even when I left to study in oxford.This time, i'm only a few miles away from home... but which home?Who am I fooling, I have no home.I call home a place where my mother locks herself in her room and my father istoo busy with his commercial projects.We don't pray together anymore.I should probably go and look at the Rev's archive, first of all.I get dressed and ask Samuel for directions.- Sir, you should really avoid wandering around. This place belongs to theDevil. I never go out, and neither do I allow my wife and my children to go outin the streets...after all that's happened in the Tribunal...who can assure methe Black Man will not take us all? – the father seems even more scared thanhis child, he warns me, as he is tidying up the rooms, in the light of theearly afternoon, between the smell of the clean dishes and old spilt beer.- Be calm, I am here to find the Evil, and the sooner we'll do that with thehelp of God, the sooner you can go back to the streets. Good day. – I leave himalone, to dry pints with an unconvinced expression on his face, which followsme as I turn my back.The shadows look longer, we are almost in July.I am not wearing a hat, that's not too important, i've never cared that muchabout propriety.I walk closer to the Tribunal, from which come shouts followed by the DeputyGovernor's voice requesting silence.I enter from the side door, the contrast between dark and the outside light doesnot allow me to grasp much of what's going on beyond the table, in front of thelibrary.When my eyes adjust to the dark, I realize i'm not alone, in Parri's studioroom.

Parris's study,
05:38 p.m.


- Who are you? – a petite young lady asks me, looking angry with her infinitely
sad blue eyes.
White walls separate us from the Hall, which i occasionally peep into, beyond a
light cotton drape. The hall is made of dark wood. I look at faces, sad looks,
tears, before looking back at my inhospitable guest.
I am rendered speachless by her stubborness and angry attitude.
I clear my throat and introduce myself.
- Was he not happy with the witnesses? He needed a pricker.- she sharply
answers, as soon as I said my name.
- Madame, I do not know how I should address you, as you are here...- i try to
explain but I'm confused, trying to explain to her I still don't know who she
is.
- My name is Kate Scullee, Salem's Scripture Reader. – she finally answers,
lowering her head covered in a black bonnett.
- Are you irish?- I ask, her surname sounds strange to me, I knew some catholics
lived in these colonies, but I did not know they would convert to our faith.
- I am, sir. Protestan, however, sir. I surely do not support the pope!- she
adds proudly.
I realize she holds a libell in her hands.
Incredibly thin hands, I notice.
Her profile is delicate, her nose is proportionate and her red lips show a melancholic twist. Her neck was long and fine.
- Could you tell me why you are here and not in the hall, with your fellow citizens –
I hold my hands behind my back, waiting to find out more.
The distance between us is heightened by the simplistic furniture of the room.
- Those are not my fellow citizens anymore, they are barbarians possessed by the devil- she says with a whisper.
- What do you mean?- she keeps me wondering, with her veiled behavious.
- Nothing, Mr. Moulder, forget that and forgive me, I have been rude. Where you looking for something here? Do you need my help? – she seems to correct her behaviour, without showing to be much convinced by her move.
- Yes, thank you. I would like to see the Reverend's registers. I have been granted access by the deputy Governor. – I add, as if I felt out of place, stepping forward towards the desk.
She steps back, without looking at me.
- I am sure. Here they are – she stretches her arm above the table, handing me some volumes.
With my eyes, I ask for permission to take a seat, and she accepts with a nod, moving away towards the small window, without any curtain, opposite the desk.
I open one of the volumes, the one with births and deaths.
The yellow paper shows me names, dates, sums of money.
Parris is a reverend who's been well treated by his community, apparently.
I go through the sums and consider every single piece of data which may be considered interesting.
Meanwhile, she fits the scarf on her head, her eyes never meeting mine, she goes back to her book.
- Would you like to have a seat?- I ask after some time spent together but always In silence.
I smile at her unwillingly, but I suddently understand I have asked too much.
I castigate myself silently for that.
She looks at me, as if she had not heard me, and leaves the room, without a word.
I try to read those volumes for about half an hour, I look around, and from the small window of the study I see Scullee outside, so I finish off my notes on my notebook and decide to go to her, almost fervent with curiosity.
The cold walls of the study is replaced by the hot atmosphere outside, in the garden, warming me immediately.
I turn my head towards her figure.
She sits on an ash bench, her face looks concentrated on what she is reading, she doesn't realize I am there, walking towards her, without sitting. I respectfully remain distant.
- Please forgive me for what happened before… I have been impudent, please understand I have only just recently come from Boston and…- I begin saying sorry for my despicable behaviour, but she interrupts me immediately.
- Are you all like this in Boston?- she asks, without moving her eyes from the pages she's reading.
Her hands betray her tone of voice, they shake against the leather book cover and the pages.
Her voice, however, does not tremble.
- What do you mean? You mean impertinent? I don't think so...- I reply, shifting the weigh of my body from one foot to another.
She makes me feel restless, this woman is a stranger.
A seagull flies low and distracts our attention with its song.
- I mean so used to be right.- she asks back, she raises her head, looking ahead.
- Please forgive me once again for my impertinent behavior – I realize I might have been a total idiot in making such remarks about her origins and also smiling to her in that indecent manner.
- I don't feel offended. Often you ought to look beyond appearances. – She calmly responds.
- Do it now, then. – I invite.
Her eyes move to me, questioning.
I have just realized how beautiful she is.Simply beautiful.
Some red locks have escaped the cap she is wearing.
- I mean, please allow me the opportunity to explain. I need some help. I don't know anyone around here and you are the only one, it seems to me, that really doesn't like folliwng the trials. – I explain, without irony.
If she behaves so differently and independently from the rest of the community, maybe she could help me with some of the trials.
- It's sad. – she raises her eyes, towards the fields, far away – this village was happy, we used to honour the Lord, work hard the fields He created… now everything has changed. – she finishes bitterly.
- - Please explain to me what has changed. – I attempt to ask
She has made me curious, about why she goes against the collectivity, what else does she hide?
- Sir, with all due respect, do you come from the Moon? You hunt witches, for Heaven's sake! You should have seen one or two…still swinging against the wind up on the hill – her accusation warns me slightly, however I catch a hint of infinite sadness in her voice.
Her expression has hardened.
She suffers.
I worry I might have offended her again.
- Please don't leave now. I really nedd your help. – I propose, but I see her get up and walk towards the wooden fence.
Without touching her, but almost running after her, I try to make her understand how disappointed I am about her leaving.
- What kind o help – She asks without turning back.
- Knowing and questioning those who are involved in this. If you could help I'd be grateful – I propose sincerely – I need help, please don't leave me this way. – I insist.
- Who do you want to speak to? Do you hold any suspects? Any other accusations? – God forgives me, I may have made her curious, as much as she has made me?
- Not at all, I am only looking for the truth. But I need to understand some things. – I ask, hoping.
Scullee walks back towards me, she looks at me modestly.
- Not today. We will meet here, tomorrow, at the same time. When everyone else is at the House set to destroy someone else. I will take you to my mother's house. To understand. To know. Today, however, please go to the bay, ask for Melvin Frohikee and Ringed Langly, they will be able to help. – She leaves me, without any further word.
She helped me, with the names of two people, whom I am immediately going to look for.
The reason behind her choice remains obscure, but for the moment it is enough to know where to go, to the bay.
For the moment.
We walk towards different directions.
I turn my face towards her only once, only to catch a glimpse of the back of her neck, uncovered from underneath the dark cap, as she looks down to avoid the sun in her eyes.
The air is now hot, the fog has arrived, announcing the proximity of sunset.
Far away, the waves of the sea keep me compay..
What a weird place, Salem, I say to myself, and my thoughts go beyond the boundaries of the houses:
In the east the Village, made up of farms and fields , The Town in the west, where people fish and trade with the rest of the Americas and of the old world. While dust and stones begin to cover my black leather shoes, I try to imagine what it would feel like to be one of them, and not a foreigner, but then I realize: had I been leaving here, I would have already realized that we are just accusing the women…maybe in a factious way? Could the accusation be sectarian too?
Why are all the alleged witch from the Town, until now, or from the periphery of the community?
The strong smell of freshly fished sea food invades my nostrills, suggesting me even before noticing, that I am quite close to the port.
Some sailors, some fishermen, a boat and the Royal Navy Soldiers governing the biggest ship, the submerged confusion of a port that has to survive.
I step closer to the bench that separates the boats floating on the soft low waves crushing slowly and calmly.
I approach a short man whose eyes appear divergent and whose skin appears to have been marked by too much sun. I ask him if he can help me and I introduce myself. He's sitting by, trying to amend a broken net, on a bunch of dried ropes.
He raises his head and asks with a needle in his hand
- What could a pricker possibly want from Melvin? – he winks at a friend, tall thin and blond, who was adjusting the contents of some baskets, on a boat nearby.
- I was sent here by kate Scullee, she told me…- I try to say, and him, almost smiling replies
- It's okay. I am Melving, and this is Ringed.. Ask whatever you want.. – the smallest man admits, shaking my hand, leaving the ropes to fall besides his feet, as he gets up.
As I open my conversation I explain that I need tools and men to excavate.
They propose themselves as helpers.
- if that's okay for you, when could you come to help? I would need you as guides.. the fact that you are not there…- I point at the tribunal with my finger and they nod at each other.
- Forget that place. We have other things to think about. You decide when.- Frohikee accepts.
- Are you sure that you have all the authorizations you need? If you didn't…it would be the same, we can get to anywhere you want. – the blond one says, after listening to me with a great deal of attention.
- Kate sends him, Ringed, donàt worry. This is all that matters – Frohikee suggests him.
I quickly organize everything with them and go back to my room, to the documents that have been given to me in the morning.

Xxx

Some hours later.

A woman's name, accuses od necromancy, particularly hits me, after a deep reading of the documents.
' Melissa Scullee is accused and suspected of perpetrating witchcraft, against all rules of the Statute, in this case we need to intervene:
In the name of their Majesties, King William and Queen Mary, we will imprison and trial Melissa Scullee; we will keep her in custody until the Law has tried her and judged her..
Salem Village,
May 1st, on the 4th year of our Royal Majesties William and Mary, anno domini 1692'