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Authors: Sara Donati

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BOOK: The Endless Forest
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Thus is it my opinion that Cookie Fiddler’s death may have been an accident or a murder, but it is not in my power to declare which on the basis of the evidence I had before me. I surmise that she received a blow to the head and fell unconscious into the lake, where she drowned.

This statement dictated to and taken down by Ethan Middle-ton and signed by my own hand and sworn to be true to the best of my knowledge and ability:

Hannah Bonner, also known as Walks-Ahead by the
Kahnyen’kehàka of the Wolf Longhouse at Good Pasture
and by Walking-Woman by her husband’s people, the Seneca,
this first day of January 1813.

“This is an unusual situation,” said Bookman. “Maybe the oddest I’ve ever come across since I’ve been a magistrate, up in Plattsville or here. Mr. Fiddler, is there some new evidence come to light these eleven years later that makes you believe a trial is warranted?”

“Should have been one back then,” Levi said.

“Be that as it may,” said Bookman. “Is there new evidence you wish to present?”

“Just what never got said last time.”

“Well, then,” said Bookman. “The accused is very ill, as I understand it. Is that so, Mrs. Savard?”

Hannah agreed that it was.

“A mortal illness.”

“She has very little time.”

“Mr. Mayfair, do you consider Mrs. Focht to be well enough to take part in these proceedings?”

“She is in her right mind. As far as her physical well-being is concerned, that question is best answered by Friend Hannah.”

Hannah stood again. “She has had a large dose of laudanum which
will keep the pain within bounds for a while. There are side effects, but she is able to speak on her own behalf.”

“Of course I am,” Jemima said. “With laudanum all things are possible.”

The peculiar smile on her face was far more unsettling than any diatribe she might have delivered.

“Mr. Fiddler,” said Jim Bookman. “Your statement.”

It seemed for a moment that Levi wouldn’t speak at all. Then he raised his head and straightened to his full height.

“My mother and my brothers and me were born in slavery, into the Kuick family that used to live here in Paradise. The same family Mrs. Focht married into.”

He must have rehearsed this speech hundreds of times over the years, because it flowed easily, from one point to the next without hesitation or reaching. Levi told about the Kuick household and his mother’s responsibilities in the kitchen, about Jemima’s first arrival at the house as a maid, and the changes once she married Isaiah Kuick. In quick strokes he drew a picture of Jemima as a woman who disliked his mother on sight and did what was in her power to make Cookie’s life miserable.

“Because Ma wasn’t afraid of her,” Levi said. “That’s what made her so mad. We were still slaves or we would have left right then. Once we got our manumission papers and we went to work for Mr. Wilde at the orchard things got better. All three of us, Mama and my brother Zeke and me. Mama in the house, me and Zeke in the orchards. That was the best time, until the day Mrs. Wilde and my mama both went missing and never were seen alive again.”

His voice was a little more strained as he told the rest of the story; how Jemima had stepped in to comfort Mr. Wilde in his loss, how quickly they had wed, and what life had been like for Levi, still mourning his mother, once Jemima came into the household.

When he seemed to have finished, Bookman looked at him over the top of his reading spectacles. “Mr. Fiddler, what you have got here is a sad story about a mean and vindictive woman, but the law requires more before a person can be charged with murder. Motive, method, and opportunity are the cornerstones of such an accusation. Are you saying the motive in this case was simple hatred?”

“No, sir,” Levi said. “I’m saying she was a widow woman and wanted
a husband and Mr. Wilde was her object. She did what she had to do to make that possible, and that meant getting rid of my mother so she could get shut of the first Mrs. Wilde.”

Bookman made a grumbling noise that rattled in his throat. “This still leaves the matter of method and opportunity, but let’s put that aside for the moment. Mrs. Focht, what do you say to these accusations?”

Jemima looked surprised to be asked. “I’ve heard them all before. What is it you want me to say? That I needed a husband? A woman with a child to raise and no money must have a husband. Of course.”

The magistrate worked his jaw as if he were chewing something tough.

“Mr. Fiddler, you are by my observations a careful man and fastidious. Surely you must see that if I send Mrs. Focht to Johnstown for trial, there’s little chance she’d live long enough to stand before a judge, and it’s almost a certainty that if she did, the judge would throw out the case. Can you be satisfied with the knowledge that she’ll be standing before her Maker soon enough, and that he’ll be better able to mete out punishment than we are?”

“I want to hear her admit it,” Levi said. “Then I’ll be satisfied to let the devil deal out her due.”

“Anything to say, Mrs. Focht?”

“Let Callie talk next.” She said this with no emotion, as though she were asking him to open a window or pass the salt.

“Mrs. Middleton,” said Jim Bookman. “Did you want to make a statement?”

“Yes,” Callie said. “I have some evidence to give. I should have given it long ago, and I’ll ask Levi to forgive me for holding back. Jemima did kill Cookie Fiddler, and I know because I saw her do it.”

The sharp silence that followed was broken by Levi. He said, “You weren’t even in Paradise that night.”

“I was. I’ll tell the whole story now if you want to hear it.”

Bookman said, “You saw Mrs. Fiddler die, and you never told anyone? Mrs. Middleton, why would you keep such information to yourself?”

Callie looked directly at the magistrate. “I was a little girl. I was afraid. And nobody ever asked me. Martha they called down to the meetinghouse to give testimony, but not me. It never occurred to them to ask me. And later … I don’t have an excuse. There is no excuse. I can only ask for pardon.”

“There’s a difference between an excuse and an explanation,” said the magistrate.

Ethan cleared his throat and the magistrate shot him a strict look.

“Mr. Middleton, your wife is capable of answering this question.”

“Yes,” Callie said. “I suppose I am. The closest I can come to an explanation is just that I was angry. I was so angry, it filled me up and pushed everything else out, every reasonable thought. I was angry at Jemima and at the whole world.”

The magistrate pushed out a sigh. “What of the claim that you were not in Paradise at that time?”

“That’s what I wanted people to think,” Callie said. “But let me tell you the whole story from the beginning.”

68

“I
never thought I’d ever tell this,” Callie began. “I tried to put it out of my head, but it just wouldn’t go. So I’m only going to look at you, Mr. Bookman, and nobody else and maybe I’ll get through it. I’m also going to ask Ethan and Martha and anybody else who gets the urge not to speak up. To leave me the telling of this.

“This is what happened. I was supposed to go to Johnstown with my father, that much is true. But Ma was poorly and Levi was away, so at the last minute Da said I should stay to help Cookie.

“Late that afternoon Ma was getting worse, as bad as I ever saw her. The day got darker and colder and she started talking to herself, talking loud. About all kinds of things, but mostly just rambling. She was running a fever too, and Cookie decided she had to go fetch help. She said I was to stay behind because Ma was quietest when I sat with her.

“All I can say in my own defense is that I was young and disappointed about Da leaving me behind. When Cookie said I couldn’t even go into the village I got mad and I decided I’d go anyway.

“It was full dark when she left. I waited a few minutes and made sure
Ma was quiet—she was resting just then, half asleep—and then I set out to follow Cookie. I knew she would send me home so I hung back a ways, but not very far. I didn’t want to lose sight of her lantern. I remember thinking I would catch her up by the bridge because she’d have to stop and scatter sand—you remember how icy the floorboards on the old bridge got in midwinter? But when I got that far I saw Jemima was coming across from the other side, and I stopped right where I was. They both had lanterns and I could see just that much of them, faces and hands that caught the light.

“I have thought it through for years now, and I’m pretty sure it was just a coincidence that they met up on the bridge. But then once they saw each other neither one of them was going to back down. I wasn’t close enough to make any of it out but they were both fighting mad. I could see it in the way they were standing.

“Just when I was going to run for help, Cookie tried to push past Jemima and she slipped and fell. She fell real hard.

“I was so scared, I could hardly breathe. I was scared Cookie was bad hurt and I was afraid that if I showed myself the same thing would happen to me. I wanted to run away but I couldn’t move my feet. I wanted to yell for help, but I was sure if I did Jemima would come after me.

“It wasn’t even a couple heartbeats before I heard a rider coming. Jemima heard it too, by the way her head came up sharp. And then—That’s when she leaned down and just pushed Cookie over the edge. One shove and she was gone. Sometimes I still dream about it, and in the dream I can hear the splash.

“I stayed in the shadows for a long time and then when I was sure Jemima was gone, I went down by the lake. It was too dark to see anything and it was cold, but I had to look. I think I was hoping that Cookie might have swum away, but there was no sign of her. So I went back home.

“Now I have got to confess something that has bothered me every day of my life since then. I loved Cookie and I was worried out of my head, but I was just as much worried for me as I was for her. I was thinking,
Please don’t be dead. Please don’t leave me alone with Ma, please don’t. I can’t take care of her myself
.

“Once I got home I climbed into bed with Ma because I was so cold and scared. I wanted to tell somebody what I saw, but I was so tired and Ma wouldn’t have understood anyway. And when I woke up the next
morning, Ma was gone and the blizzard had just started up. I was so scared I was shaking, but I got on my clothes and I went out after her.

“I don’t know if anybody will recall that when my ma wandered off she often went to call on Daisy Hench. She always liked Daisy and somehow or another Daisy was good at calming her down. So I set off to see if I could catch her up. I got about three quarters of the way when I realized I wasn’t dressed warm enough. I thought for a minute I might die myself, and that I wouldn’t mind so much if Ma and Cookie were both gone. I might as well go too.

“Just then I came to the Steinmeissen place. I suppose something in me wasn’t ready to die yet because I knocked, thinking they’d let me set by their fire until the weather let up a little.

“But they weren’t home. I was so beside myself I forgot that Margery died the winter before, and Anton had gone off into the bush to drink himself into a stupor.

“So there I was in the Steinmeissen cabin. It was so dark with the blizzard coming on, and not a single candle anywhere, nor a bit of oil for the lamp. But there was wood stacked right outside the door and a tinderbox on the mantel, and I managed finally to get a fire going. I just wrapped up in every cover and blanket I could find and I lay down in front of the hearth and I fell asleep.

“Martha, if you keep weeping like that I won’t be able to finish, and I need to tell all of this. Let me tell it.

“Even after the blizzard let up, I couldn’t make myself go out. I found a crock of bacon grease and a few crackers, and I melted snow to drink. So I stayed another night and then the next day when I was going to give up and go on home I heard my da’s sleigh bells. I ran right out in the middle of the road, and I scared him bad so that at first all he could do was yell at me and ask what was I thinking, being so careless and what was I doing all the way on this side of the village.

“To this day I don’t know how much I told him, or what he understood. Didn’t matter anyhow, because not five minutes later we were in the middle of the village and people were running from all directions shouting at us to stop, stop, something terrible had happened. And that’s when we heard Ma had died on Hidden Wolf and that Cookie was missing. That’s what people said, and that’s what they believed, that Cookie was missing and nothing more.

“Da and me, we never talked about it, after that. Why I was at the
Steinmeissen place all alone, or what happened to Cookie, or how Ma had wandered off to die on the mountain. I don’t think he even thought about it, he was so broke up about Ma and Cookie. Levi came back and he was so upset, I was afraid to talk to him for fear he’d run off and kill Jemima and then they’d hang him.

“If I had known Da was going to end up marrying Jemima, I would have made myself tell him. But I didn’t. Sometimes I wonder what the world would be if I had obeyed Cookie and stayed behind that evening. I wouldn’t have slept so deep, and Ma couldn’t have wandered off, and Jemima couldn’t have got my da to marry her, and all the trouble later about the orchard would never have happened. They might still be alive today, both my folks. I am sorry to say that no matter how hard I looked at it, I couldn’t find a way to save Cookie. There wasn’t anything I could have done. When she and Jemima got within striking distance of each other, it was like fire and gunpowder. Something was going to happen.

BOOK: The Endless Forest
5.81Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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