X Salem IV

July,

9:48 a.m.

Nurse's Residence outside

The shovel dug on the soil behind the small house…

-What do you think you'll find, pricker?- Langly asked, breathing heavily, leaning on the handle of the shovel, while observing me along the perimeter of the wooden walls of the small house.

-Instead of being so curious, keep helping me..- I answer without interrupting the rhythm.

IF we remain on the surface, I think I we might be able to see some
inscriptions if there is any.

They are usually circles, with a small flower inscribed inside, magic symbols, sometimes they might be actual spells, inscribed upon the walls,rooted deep down to the foundations of the building.
they can be good or evil, depending upon the formula used, upon the
astrology and upon the intentions of whomever created them.

Froikee is one foot away from me, he takes my place when I straighten up again.

He looks at me crossed under a big hat, as he begins to dig.

-Near the foundations…don't go too deep and stay close to the wall,remember. As you go on, I'll go around the building- I tell him

- Don't worry, I will let you have a look at those texts… Aren't you
afraid of going to hell, Melvin? Those scripts have been compiled by sinfull atheists.- I continue amused.

-Could I damn myself on anything better?- Frohikee replies, speeding up his work.

After one hour, we have finished the same activity all around the Martin and Good's houses.

Houses which have been abandoned by the families torn apart, without any graphic presence of spells.

We side Scullee's house, and I lower my head, guilty of allowing one of Eve's daughters to distract me.

The same procedure is going to be applied to the houses of the 'afflicted', starting from Parris' residence.

The small allotment where I have firstly encountered Scullee has already become a place for good and lovely memories.

Far from the loudness of these trials, far, she and I, in my deepest
thoughts…

- Enough! You are treating us like slaves! Your immoral texts won't be enough to compensate us for this work! – Langly erupts, tired and hot.

- I am sorry, my friends, we can stop now, I haven't found anything I was looking for..- I admit tired placing my hand on my hips, smelling the fresh soil, looking at the bright blue sky.

We spent the entire morning digging and looking, but nothing has been fruitful.

- What are you doing? Are you doing the Devils' work now?- Parris's squeaky voice makes us jump.

- Reverend, my name is Foxcroft Moulder, sent here by Oyers and
Terminators to investigate Salem..- I reply annoyed, but he stops me
angrily, his face red.

- How dare you look for evidence in my house! My daughter and niece are haunted by devilish women and you come here and look for… what are you evenlooking for?!! In the name of God, I am ordering you to stop immediately!!-his hysterical tone does not distress me nor my friends.

Calmly they pick their tools and preceed me, walking away from the man, while I remain there to talk to the Reverend.

- Mr Parris, you cannot talk to me like that. I have been authorized by the Court itself! – my voice thunders on his small figure.

I am dirty, soil, sweat, maybe even manure…I feel a lot more 'clean' than him.

I stare at him for a few moments, in his small angry eyes, then I leave him with himself, without saying anything else.

To be continued


Xxx
19th August
Tavern
08:22 p.m.

Today they have hung more witches, or alleged ones. Amongst them three men and Reverend Burroghs, who had for years served in Salem.
I have not joined the group upon the hill, I stayed in my room, to think, after another morning spent looking for evidence.
After a few hours I have heard a number of doors close, silently, and from that I gathered everything was over.
I understand, with the screeching wood of the door, the sins of those who go against their brothers.
I have spoken to many citizens of the village and of the town, they didn’t trust me at first, but knowing who I was, their testimony helped.
Most of them I found were quite angry, not very trusting and almost against each other.
Most of them answered my questions on their doorstep, others let me in, those were the most merciful.
They were afraid of my bizarre questions, some of them didn’t understand why I would talk about magic rituals and the occult, maybe some suspected my involvement too.
Sunday mass was quite useful too.
As Parris read the sermon, last week, some members of the community got up and left the place of worship.
I knew of some grievances against the Reverend, but I wouldn’t expect them to be so heavy and evident.
Tomorrow, non God’s day, I will be back in Boston.
I have sent for my Harvard teacher news that I want to meet him, I have to urgently speak to him, so tonight I will take leave of the Deputy Governor.
After my reports with the Curia, many weeks have passed and I have not met Scullee.
The village seems to be convulsively mad, instead of crying for the dead, everyone blaming each other.
It looks like a delation fever has swept across the village.
I notice the judges split, I believe the situation reflects their decisions.
They speak with each other, with worried looks and angry thoughts.
The Deputy Governor sits with Sewall, immersed in an acrimonious conversation, their voices running high at times, although I notice that they are not arguing, they are agreeing with each other.
Salem’s prisons will not be enough, the new defendants will need to be moved to Boston..in an atmosphere of hurt and hate.
At a wide table, sit Oyers and Terminers.
They are more relaxed, and talk about the Lord’s doing, sure that everything will be over when they are taken away.
Tonight I have invited for dinner those who have helped me to dig, hoping I could make amends for wasting their time.
Two of them arrive and, must it be because of our shared love for ahem French libels, when I arrived I felt so lonely, however their faces were enough to make me smile.
I have often seen them, and after the first time, other than for useful news for my reports, I have found their company pleasant.
- Hello Moulder, ready to leave?- Melvin says to me, walking in late and already finding smoking beans on our plates.
- Sure, God willing – I answer, asking them to sit next to our neighbours.
- Just between us, you are doing a good thing leaving, if I could I’d do it…after Captain Alden’s arrest..I fear…I really do. – Ringed says, drinking from a beer jug.
- Lower your voice, Langly, behind you are some people who don’t hesitate to judge. I will be back. I am not done here. I need more elements, and I am determined to find them..- I warn them, smiling subtly.
- I know, I know I must be careful . Have you talked to Parris’ slave? – Ringed asks, eating his coriander and beans soup.
- No but I know she practices Obeah*, which is normal for Antille’s Indians. - I admit.
- They are all atheists, it’s obvious. – Melvin says, biting a roast turkey leg.
- Listen Frohike: The Scullys…- I stop and he’s almost chocking on a bite of turkey, I hit his shoulder, across the table
- What? What’s wrong?- i ask, amused by his funny face, looking across at his blonde friend who’s looking down instead, almost shy.
He replies to me- I have asked Kate to marry me, years ago…- he breathes and coughs. - and?- I worry about the answer
- Nothing. She rejected with absolute certainty, wanting to stay with her mother, growing up to serve the Lord with her mother, and her brother’s children. I could have offered her a comfortable life. But she never wanted. She doesn’t want to get married . – he looks sad, beyond belief.
- And her sister, Melissa?- I ask, trying to hide the satisfaction in my eyes, which I am not sure I can do.
- It was terrible to see her die, but she was a witch…- he replies, touching his forehead in a cross twice.
Langly imitates him quickly, then ordering another roast chicken from Samuel.
- I am not sure…- I say with a low tone.
- Shh, are you insane, pricker? Sure, if you say that…- he says stretching on the back of the chair.
- I have studied every single decree of these trials, I have seen those girls with my own eyes squirm and cry, claim that Rebecca Nurse was haunting them, but one day…I was in Parris study as usual and I could see the hall. I saw Abigal Williams take nails from her sleeves and hurt herself…she did it to herself, do you understand?. What if they were all doing this to themselves, if they were faking it? – I try to give an explanation.
- I know Stoughton reconsidered the outcome on the Rebecca Nurse’s trial, poor woman… Sarah Nurse, her daughter, she claimed the same about the nails, that Abigail was lying to the court, she shouted it, different times, but the Deputy Governor didn’t want to accept the evidence! But to what purpose? You did not see any physical evidence on other witches?- he asks as he turns pale.We are all embarrassed now, thinking about it.
- If we were to admit that these girls fake it, you’d have to admit that they’ve been killing innocent people. Imagine the consequences. The Deputy Governor’s power would shatter.- i reply very quietly, almost disgusted then I start again
- I have not been allowed to see the physical evidence. I know some material has been kept away…- I see some sort of morbid curiosity in Frohikee and Langly but I try not to notice
- The Devil’s nipple, that’s what they call it. The witches use it to feed the Evil, that is why it is hidden. – Ringed continues, but I interrupt him, being more interested in other cases.
- I’d like to meet the prison guard, could you take me to him? I could interrogate Tituba in prison. The official ways take too long. But personal acquaintances lead you much closer- i ask them, finishing my turkey leg.
- Consider it a done thing, on Saturday nights he doesn’t work and usually comes here. You may have seen him already, you’ve been here for a while, I will point you to him.- they accept, with Melvin’s words.
We keep chatting, about the north wind which could bring about good fishing.
- Moulder…when was the last time you saw Kate Scullee?- Frohikee asks.
- Why are you asking?- i try to maintain a cold tone, uninterested, hoping I can hold it.
- My neighbour’s sister bragged about the fact that William and Charles Scullee hate you – he informs me, lowering his eyes.
Just their names hit me and I think he must have realized it.
- I..I …she…she has been my first contact with the community…She has directed me to you and so I’ve done… I…I have only seen her again when I talked to her mother, in their house. – I stutter like a guilty child.Melvin’s inquisitive look stops me from thinking about her further.
- Swear on God’s name that you have respected her. She has been seen walking by the shore with you. – he accuses me.
- That was days ago! That’s when I met the widow, and then…sure, I can swear it..if you…I have not seen her in days! I understand you don’t know me very well, and that you may have followed the rumors, but I have respected her, I fear the Lord and I am an honest man!! – I am honest and I feel uncomfortable.
My friend has the power to make me feel like the worst of sinners, uncovering my wrong doing in thoughts and imagination.
I feel like the flames of Hell are laughing at me, waiting for me.
I am losing lucidity and the coldness required to continue to investigate.
Most of all, I would never let Scullee lose her respectful place in the community because of the distrust my work causes.
- This is not about me, she is not even thinking about me – my friend explains – but I want her beyond suspicion.. She’s already suffered a lot.- his tone is sad, he makes me think about the many balances I have managed to ruin since my stay here has started.
If my eyes had enough strength, like two wild horses, I would have taken her away from that brute, authorized to touch her, to say hello to her in the morning and say goodnight to her in the evening only by the blood in common.
Below the frame of the door stands a man, with curly brown hair and a peculiar face.
Melvin looks at him as he walks in and nods towards him.
He welcomes with big gestures of his arms, without explanation.
- Here is the man you wanted to meet. Jeffrey Spenders. Drink with us. Let us introduce you to the pricker from Boston- he finishes.

xxx

an hour later,

I am on my own, with me, in the tavern, the host and the table of the two main judges of the town.
I stand up and walk towards them.
- Gentlemen, forgive me, but I must leave. I will be on my way to Boston tomorrow.- I begin.
- When will you be back?- Sewall asks
I don’t have the time to answer back, as the Deputy Governor talk sto me.
- You have done a good job, so far, without a doubt. When will you be back. – he asks again
- I believe I can be back by Tuesday…- I start but I am interrupted again
- Are you going back to your mother? She has never really recovered, has she – Stoughton asks without being descreet
- That is so. – I answer restless, then I try to gather myself and I formally say goodnight.
I walk upstairs to my room and prepare a rucksack to take with me, leaving the heaviest bag behind.

To be continued