Suffer a Witch (34 page)

Despite her sinking heart, Em gave him an encouraging smile.

“You said that we needed to fight the demons,” George said. “Do you remember?”

“I think so,” Em said in a vague voice.

“We aren’t sure how to do that,” George said. “Mary Ayer and Wilmot have been around the world looking for information about how to fight demons. They should be back any minute.”

Em shrugged.

“You just have to remember that they want to help,” George said.

“They’re being annoying?” Em asked.

“Pull-your-hair-out annoying,” George said.

“Good to know,” Em said.

“Listen,” George said. He sat down next to her on the bed. “I wanted to talk to you about something.”

“Susannah or Ann?” Em asked.

George flushed bright red. Shaking his head, he looked away.

“I need to tell you something,” Em said.

George’s eyes flicked to her.

“Do you know why they arrested me?” Em asked. “In Salem Farms, I mean.”

“To break people’s resistance to the trials?” George asked.

“You really don’t know,” Em said.

“Because Giles was a demented old fool when he first talked to them?” George asked.

Em shook her head.

“What are you saying, Martha?” George asked. “And why are you saying this now?”

“I have this feeling that the next weeks will change everything,” Em said. “I don’t want all of this life and living to end without you knowing the truth.”

“What ‘truth,’ Martha?” George asked. “Which ‘truth’? That I loved you completely and was stupid enough not to make you leave Henry? Not to marry you right then and there? That I was too bullheaded to let you pay my debts, or that I was so certain they would pay me for my services or at least match the debt with what they owed me? Is it ‘truth’ that I was too vainglorious to see that nothing I could say would change their minds? That the entire escapade had nothing to do with witchcraft or godliness but rather. . .?”

Em put her hand over his, and he stopped talking.

“The only ‘truth’ that I have found is my love for you,” George said with a shrug.

“They wanted to know where you were,” Em said. She was so ashamed that she couldn’t look at him. “They tortured me for a month until they started on Thomas and Benoni. I finally. . . I finally. . .”

A tear ran down her face.

“Of course, you did,” George said.

“They dragged you from your dinner,” Em whispered.

“I knew they were coming,” George said. “Like the fool I am, I assumed that they would be reasonable. I wanted one last meal with my child and wife.”

“You knew they were coming?” Em asked.

“I knew the moment they arrested you,” George said. “But yes, I was warned as soon as they entered the county.”

“You knew they arrested me to find you?” Em asked.

“Of course,” George said. “I wanted to turn myself in so that you wouldn’t suffer, but. . .”

He scowled at her.

“What?” Em asked.

“I don’t know ‘what,’ Martha,” George said. “I didn’t. I knew that you were the only person who knew where I was. I knew that you were suffering terribly. I. . .”

George sighed and shook his head.

“I’d sent you away,” Em said.

“You told me to leave and never come back,” George said. “If I had known about Benoni or that the trials were coming or that living with you, day in and day out, would make me the better man I longed to be. . .”

George gave her a sad shrug.

“I’m so sorry,” she said.

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” George said. “You were tortured for weeks. They came after your children. Everyone breaks down at some point, Martha. Everyone. They were willing to find everyone’s breaking point. Good Lord, they pressed Giles to death!”

She held her arms out, and they hugged.

“I will tell you, my love,” George said. “I never will forget how I felt the moment I entered that filthy jail and found you there. I knew there was a God in Heaven because I got to spend my last days by your side.”

“And if it all ended tomorrow?” Em asked.

“I will thank the Lord for giving me so many perfect days and years,” George said.

He kissed her.

“I’ll talk to Susannah and Ann,” Em said.

“You’re sure?” George asked.

“They want a baby,” Em said. “Sam is already helping Elizabeth and a few of the others. John won’t. Giles wants to wait until Bridget has their child. It makes sense that you could help out.”

“You’ll let me know?” George asked.

Em gave him a quick nod. He kissed her.

“I love your generous soul,” he whispered.

There was a tap on their door.

“That’s Mary Ayer,” Em said. “I need to get up. Will you help me?”

George gave her a soft smile. Even though pregnancy hadn’t made her large, she’d grown out of most of her clothing. She had to guide George to clothing that she could still fit into. He helped her out of bed. The moment her feet hit the floor, a blast of wind shook the building to its foundation. Em bounced back onto the bed.

“What was that?” George asked.

“It’s the demon,” Em said. “You might not be able to see him, but you can feel his wrath.”

George glared out the window.

“At least you know I’m not making this up,” Em said.

“Oh, Em, I never thought you were making this up,” George said. “You’re too. . .”

“Boring?”

“Honest,” George said with a smile. “Real, grounded, present. . . beautiful.”

Em touched the side of his face. For a moment, their eyes caught, and their deep love for each other passed through their eyes.

“Throw me my clothing,” Em said.

He tossed her a pair of his jeans, an undershirt, and one of his thick flannel shirts. He helped her get dressed while she lay on the bed. He grabbed her snow boots from the closet and set them next to the bed.

“It’s worth a try,” he said and gave her a soft smile.

She sat up and slipped one foot into a boot. When nothing happened, she slipped the other foot into the second. She smiled and stood. The wind and snow pummeled the building. George moved to help her sit down again.

“No,” Em shook her head. “This is my fight. I need to get to it.”

“It’s our fight.” George pulled her to him. “I’m sorry I put that burden on you. I was ridiculous. If some creature has a fight with you, he has a fight with me. Doesn’t matter if it’s Cotton Mather or a demon from hell. Your battles are mine to fight.”

“Ours, too,” Mary Ayer said.

Em looked up to see Mary Ayer standing in front of Susannah, Ann, Alice, and Wilmot. Alice came forward to hug Em. Soon Em was surrounded by her witches. The wind picked up, and the snow drove against the building, but they stood within the strength of their love for each other.

“George! George! George!” said a deep male voice, breaking their silence. The spirit of Martha materialized in Em’s bedroom dressed as Michael. She was wearing his US Army fatigues. For all of her feminine ways, this aspect of Martha’s spirit was all male.

George looked up from his position in the middle of the witches.

“Stop fucking around, Captain!” Michael said. His voice was so deep that it seemed to shake the air around them.

When George turned to look at the spirit, the witches shifted away from each other.

“You remember Martha?” George asked. “This is her more masculine side, Michael.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Michael said. “And listen.”

“I’m all ears,” George said.

The witches turned toward the spirit.

“Those demons have taken the little red-haired Irish girl,” Michael said. “The one who lives across the way.”

“The key stealer?” George asked.

“One and the same,” Michael said. “They are torturing her poor, wretched soul. She’s only a child.”

“Why would they do that?” Martha Carrier asked.

“They got your friend Buford,” Michael said. “That’s how they got the girl. You know how protective he is of her. Like she was his child.”

“The red coat?” Em asked.

Michael nodded.

“You don’t want to know what they’re doing to him,” Michael said. “They tried to get Martha, but I intervened. They can’t get me here — inside this building. I got inside only because I’d held Em’s purse. Out there, I’m...”

Michael’s hands went to cover his ears.

“I can hear her scream,” Michael whispered.

“As owner of this building,” Em said. She stepped forward to put her hands on Michael’s shoulders. “You are welcome here, Martha and Michael.”

“How will I be able to help?” Michael asked.

“You are anchored here, now,” Em said. “You will return here no matter where you go. The witches are the same. They will not be able to get you now. When you’re ready, we’ll help you move on.”

“Save the child,” Michael said. “We must save the child and Buford.”

“How do we do that?” George asked.

“We’ll figure it out,” Em said. She turned to the witches. “I cannot ask you to come. It’s likely that this is our last battle. I would rather that you stayed here, stayed safe.”

“Shut up, Martha,” Martha Carrier said. “To the Common!”

With that, the witches disappeared. Overwhelmed, Em took a breath.

“Shall we stand together against our doom?” George asked.

“Nothing would make me happier,” Em said.

He took her hand, and they left for the Common.

Em landed next to Susannah. Alice, Ann, and Wilmot were standing in the Central Burial Ground.

“They’re gone!” Susannah yelled over the wind.

George walked to the marker and called Buford’s name. He added enough magic so that his call could be heard in every dimension. The sound echoed around them. A huge gust of wind and snow knocked George off his feet.

“We need to get to an open area — the Common!” Em yelled. Like a movie-screen witch, she began to fly a few feet off the ground. “Follow me!”

As if they were leaves on the wind, the witches flew a few feet off the ground toward the Boston Common Baseball Field.

“Stay on the field!” Em yelled. “Don’t cross the path. The parking garage is underneath there. We won’t be able to defend it.”

The witches landed in the center of the baseball fields. Martha Carrier appeared.

“I stopped at Bridget’s to see if I could grab Sarah Wildes or Margaret,” Martha Carrier yelled over the snow. “Ann, there’s a woman in labor at Bridget’s home.”

“I will not leave, Em,” Ann yelled back.

“Go,” Em yelled. She had to lean forward to make her voice heard. “We are nothing if we are not in service to human beings.”

Overwhelmed by the thought of leaving Em, Ann touched her heart with her hands.

“Go,” Em yelled. She held out her arms and hugged Ann. “Listen to the wind. Our struggle will be there. If you’re free, come to join us.”

Ann blew Em a kiss and disappeared.

“What’s the plan?” Martha Carrier yelled.

“Are Sarah Wildes and Margaret coming?” Alice yelled to Martha Carrier.

Martha Carrier shook her head.

“It’s crazy at Bridget’s,” Martha Carrier said. “She could use our help.”

“After we kick some demon ass,” Alice yelled. She let out a whoop like a high school cheerleader.

“Form a circle around Em,” George commanded. He pointed to the ghost Michael. “The energy inside the circle is too much for you. You cannot join us, Michael.”

“Roger that,” Michael nodded.

The witches linked elbows in a tight circle around Em.

“Stay by me, Michael,” George commanded. “I’ll keep an eye on you.”

“Why, George,” Michael said in Martha’s voice, “you do love me!”

Still dressed in US military fatigues, Michael suggestively leaned on one hip. George smiled, and the witches chuckled.

“If you’re in danger, head to the Mystic Divine!” Em yelled. “You’ll be safe there. You, too, Martha!”

There was an enormous
“Boom!”
and the witches gave a startled scream.

“They’re coming!” Em said.

The wind began to swirl around the witches. Another boom came from somewhere near the Boston Common Gazebo. The air around the witches tightened.

“Hold on,” Em yelled over the wind. “They are only trying to frighten us!”

The demons flew with ease through the snow.

“I see them,” George yelled.

“I do, too,” Wilmot yelled.

The demons began to circle above the witches. They screeched and howled, but the witches didn’t move. The snow pounded down upon the witches. Em was losing sight of Martha Carrier, who was standing in front of her.

“There’s one that looks like Argos!” Mary Ayer yelled.

“There’s Bill Panon,” Michael pointed to one of the demons above.

“Where?” Em asked.

She followed Michael’s finger into the air. The snow battered her face. She squinted against the cold. A dark blur flew overhead. She followed the blur as it flew in the circle above her. When it reached the opposite side of the circle, she recognized the man who had killed her in the Jamaica Plains apartment building. Seeing her face, the man dove down to her and bellowed out a cry.

“Does he look like your father?” George yelled.

“A version of him,” Em said. “It’s like he’s darker or. . . something.”

“Smeared,” Martha Carrier yelled. “It’s like someone took a painting and ran their hand across it.”

“Like they’re underwater,” George yelled.

“Or we see them through a coat of oil,” Wilmot screeched over the noise. “They have no clear edges. They are diffuse and yet still tangible.”

“Is it your father?” Mary Ayers yelled to Em.

“No,” Em said. “I can’t say why, but it’s not him.”

“They’ve taken these forms to fool us!” Susannah shouted.

“Resist the demon!” George yelled.

“And he shall flee from you,” the witches quoted James 4:7 in unison.

Em struggled to get a good look at the creatures flying above. She thought she saw a blur that looked like Ellen the Watcher. Another demon that looked a smudged version of Miriam of Geography shot by. The next one looked like a shadowy Benjamin the Warrior. The demons swooped down upon them and screeched away into the clouds.

“I recognize some of them,” Em yelled.

“Have you seen the red-haired girl?” George yelled.

“No,” Em said. “I don’t see my demon, either.”

With her words, everything became very still. The wind dropped. The only sound was the crisp patter of falling snow. The temperature dropped. The demons had disappeared.

“What was that?” Alice whispered.

No one dared respond. Em began a spell. Her lips moved, but no sound came from her mouth.

“Damn these theatrics,” George said. “Show yourself!”

“I’m freezing,” Susannah said.

The snow continued to fall, and Em continued her spell. Despite the cold, the field was peaceful. George began leading the witches in his favorite prayer — Robert Louis Stevenson’s “For Success” from his
Prayers from Vailma
.

“Lord, behold our family here assembled,” George said in a soft voice.

“We thank Thee for this place in which we dwell; for the love that unites us.” The witches joined in with the prayer. “For the peace accorded us this day; for the hope with which we expect the morrow.”

There was a loud
whooshing
sound that riveted their eyes to the heavens. Em’s demon floated down to them. His naked, charcoal-grey rhinoceros skin glistened in the rain. The curly, dark hair of his legs was wet. His cloven hooves seemed sharper than they were before. The jutting horn in the middle of his pronounced brow ridge seemed exceptionally sharp. He stood out like a dark menace among the sea of white snow around them. His claws held the red-haired girl in a tight grip. The child ghost was weeping. A high-pitched squeal grew as the demon flew closer.

“You know the spell to close your ears,” Em said. “Use it now!”

The witches yelled out the spell. The demon smiled at Em. He hovered in the falling snow above her.

“They can’t hear us now,” the demon said with a grin.

“I can’t hear him!” George yelled. “Demon — be gone!”

“I can’t hear anything!” Wilmot yelled.

“What do you want?” Em asked. As if she were going to punch him, she balled up her fist.

He stroked the curly hair of the little girl, and the girl began to sob.

“
Cabhrú liom
.” The child begged Em to help her in Irish Gaelic.

“Let her go!” Em demanded.

“The child has no name,” the demon laughed. “She belongs to whomever owns her.”

“Let her go!” Em demanded.

“No,” the demon said with a laugh.

“What do you want from me?” Em asked. She raised her fists to the sky. “Tell me
now
!”

Em’s final word held all of the power of her people and history. The demon laughed at her show of strength.

“You do not command me!” the demon said. He raised his hand to point at her. “In fact. . .”

Em opened her hands. The demon gasped as the full blast of a travel spell hit him in the chest. Em grabbed the ghost of the red-haired girl a fraction of a second before the demon soared backward through the air. The demon stretched out his hands to grab the child, but Em held her spirit tight to her chest.

“To the Mystic Divine!” Em yelled.

Em transported the girl back to the Mystic Divine. The store was dark and still. They landed at the same time as George. The child threw herself into George’s arms. As the other witches arrived, George and the child spoke back and forth in Irish Gaelic.

“Can you do that thing?” George asked. “Can you root her here?”

“The demon is right,” Em said. “Without a name, she’s fair game to any strong force that blows by.”

“I name you Aileen,” George said in Irish Gaelic. “
Aileen álainn
.”

The red-haired girl grinned at being called “beautiful Aileen.”

“What is your name?” Alice demanded of the girl. George translated.

“Aileen,” the girl said with a giggle.

Em placed her hands on the child’s shoulders and rooted her to the building. George repeated her words in Irish Gaelic.

“What about Buford?” Martha, recently Michael, asked.

Now that the battle was over, Michael had returned to his Martha form.

“If I know Buford, he’ll. . .” George started.

The ghost of the British soldier flew through the front window. He checked to make sure nothing was following him before looking around. George went to welcome his friend. Em welcomed him and helped tie him to the building so he would remain safe.

“Should we expect the demons?” George asked.

“No,” Em said. “I sent them far from us. Pluto, I think, but I was aiming for the Kuiper belt.”

“The what?” Susannah asked.

“It’s a belt of small debris left over from the creation of the universe,” Wilmot said. Everyone looked at her with surprise. “What? I watched
Cosmos
with Em.”

“Our Lord has created a truly wonder-filled universe,” Em said.

“When do we expect that they will return?” George asked.

“February at the earliest,” Em said.

“Just in time for the Super Bowl,” George muttered.

“It’s not held here, is it?” Em asked.

George shook his head.

“Then God’s team, the New England Patriots, should be just fine,” Em said. Under her breath, she said, “Provided they didn’t cheat.”

“Cheat?” George asked. His face darkened, and he raised a finger to point at her. “Watch what you’re saying, woman. Those are fighting words!”

The witches gasped, and Em grinned. George scowled.

“There’s that whole ball-inflation thing,” Em said.

“The Pats would never cheat,” George said with a sniff.

Em laughed out loud, breaking the tension. The other witches laughed. Finally, George grinned.

“What do we do now?” Alice said to change the topic.

“Let’s open the store to anyone who needs it,” Em said. “If these spirits feel the uncertainty, certainly our community feels it as well.”

“Did we keep any of the food that was donated?” George asked.

“We have about half,” Susannah said.

“We have plenty of food upstairs,” Em said. “I baked a bunch of food so George could take it out with him. The freezer downstairs is full.”

“We can barbeque,” George said.

“Good idea,” Em said.”

“Hey, Em.” Sam jogged down the stairs toward her. His cell phone was clamped between his shoulder and his ear. “There’s so much snow that the city wants to move the snow onto five snow farms.”

“What’s a snow farm?” Em asked.

“It’s a place to store all the extra snow,” Sam said. “Most of the sites are parks — Franklin Park Zoo and the golf course there; some place in Hyde Park. They’re looking for one in Dorchester. They think they found one in Hyde Park. They’re wondering if they can use the lot on Tide Street in South Boston.”

“Can you think of any reason we wouldn’t?” Em asked with a shrug.

“It will have snow and debris through June?” Sam asked. “We’ll lose the parking income.”

“We can afford it,” Em shrugged.

“I’ll tell them to go ahead,” Sam said.

Em nodded. Noticing it was still dark in the store, Em waved her hand, and the lights came on. From where they stood, they could see that three young women were standing outside the door. George ran to open the doors.

“Oh, Sam?” Em turned to see if she’d caught him.

He turned at the top of the flight of stairs. He looked at her, but his attention was clearly on the phone. She waited.

“Didn’t we help the Port Authority buy those snow-melting tanks?” Em asked.

Sam pointed to her and nodded. He turned and went up the stairs to the apartments.

“What was that?” Alice asked.

“Trying to be a good Boston neighbor,” Em said with a smile. “Why don’t we crank up the heat, pass out food, and. . .”

“Give free readings?” Martha Carrier asked. “It’s been an age since I played with the tarot. I’d be happy to do readings.”