An adult stories – Sarah of Salem – Sarah’s Story by chymera,chymera I know the hall monitors will object to this being in the Loving Wives category, but for me, that’s the basis of the story. So that’s where I’m putting it. Besides, that’s where Will’s story (Sarah of Salem) was.
[———————————————————————————]
I felt him, before I saw him. I thought at first my mother or father had followed me into the school, since I had only had that feeling for them. It was a special connection, one I didn’t even share with other relatives, regardless of how close. My granny had repeatedly tried to establish a connection to me, but it never happened.
So, when I turned on my little kindergarten chair, I was surprised to find my gaze locked on a goofy kindergarten kid. Our eyes were locked in a minute. I felt my lips slowly curl into a small smile as he seemed to panic and tear his gaze from me. I could almost feel the hair on his neck rise.
Throughout the day and for the rest of my life, I would know when Will Lawson was going to look at me. When he did, I’d be staring back. It wasn’t something I tried to do, just something that happened. We were tied together.
That first day, when I rushed home to tell Mama what had happened on my first day of school, she smiled and hugged me. “He’s your other half, sweetheart! How lucky you are to have found him. You’ll be soulmates for life!” I laughed when Mama told me that. What five-year-old thinks about soulmates? But as the year passed, I found that I always felt better, somehow more myself, when Will was nearby.
Will was such a typical boy. I knew he felt the connection as well, but it freaked him out, so he told all the kids that I had ‘cooties’. It became a game for a while, to run from me or drop the crayon when someone pointed at it and yelled, ‘cooties’, because I had been using the crayon before them. I never let it bother me, because I knew that it showed Will felt our connection and was fighting it. That amused me, because I also knew how strong that connection was, and he couldn’t escape.
Plus, it was easy to make the other kids get bored with the game and move on to something else. The same thing repeated with Will’s ‘Goody-two-shoes’ chant. I let it go on for a while, and then turned everyone’s mind to something else.
If I worked at it, I could influence other people’s thoughts, or more probably, their moods and emotions. I didn’t read minds, and I couldn’t make people do any tasks, per se. I could influence their feelings towards me, or towards anchovies on pizza if I wanted them and no one else did. I always managed to stay popular with the other students, but never got close to anyone. No BFF or even close friends for me. I was a witch.
Yes, I was a witch and when I wasn’t at school, I was busy getting instructions from by my mother and my nine aunts. I learned spells and potions, telekinesis and divination, psychometry, and Curses. I was fair at most of those studies, but only fair. My spells and potions didn’t always work out quite right, I dropped objects I was moving mid-air and frequently predicted the middle of an event instead of the ending. I predicted that a football game was going to be won 14 to 13, but somehow missed the last-minute play, which was a 2-point conversion.
I excelled best at psychometry. Curses were a close second. That all probably sounds good, but it wasn’t. I usually kept my hands in my lap, rather than get bombarded with impressions from the desk the teacher had screwed her boyfriend on one night, or the trash can that the drunk janitor had vomited in. Believe me, it’s the unpleasant things that objects seem to bring to the surface first. I really must want to find out something to dig deep through layers of unpleasantness.
And Curses. My mother gave me instruction in Curses in order to know how to defend against them but forbade me to use my talent. “We’re not that kind of witches,” she would insist. “When you hurt people, you hurt yourself. You’re a beautiful girl, Sarah, but you won’t be if you corrupt your soul.” She taught me to be a positive source of nature, that our gifts were from nature and should be kept pure.
The curses my mother gave me for practice were mostly harmless, inconsequential things: making the postman trip, the neighbor lose his keys and making the mean girl at school get a pimple on her nose before every dance junior year. That last one was necessary for me to learn how to do a repeating curse. Just for fun and extra credit, I added the day of class photos to the curse, as well.
The surprise was Mind Control. My mother said it used to be common, but the weakening of the Hexing Family strengths had diminished over the centuries with constant inter-marriage between witches and non-witches. Our powers had been diluted until the major acts of magic, Mind Control, Levitation, Materialization, and Illusions had all but disappeared. No one could do Mind Control anymore, including me.
Except…
Except for Will. I found I could make him do things, think things, and believe things. I found it out when my mother told me to collect some frogs and lizards for some potion lessons. I never minded bugs and toads, or any other ingredient needed, but getting frogs and lizards meant going down into the marsh and getting wet and dirty chasing them. I dreaded it all week, knowing that when the weekend came, I’d have that chore to do. I was looking at Will and wishing he’d do it for me. True, at ten he was still avoiding me, but our connection was stronger than ever.
Took me two hours of getting dirty to collect the ingredients that my mother wanted, but I did it, but spent the next two hours cleaning myself and my clothes. I absolutely hated getting dirty. Still do.
Imagine my surprise on Monday when I found squished frogs and lizards in my books! Like my divination, it wasn’t perfect, but Will had done what I wanted. I was so amazed, that when our eyes locked, I could only say, “Thank you, Will.” I smiled at his reaction.
Over time, with concentration and hard work, I was able to improve my control. Within a year, I had Will collecting spiders and bugs for me, keeping them alive and putting them into my lunch bag.
My mother’s pride showed when I told her about my foray into mind control. She insisted that we work on that but attempts at people other than Will always seemed to fail, and in the end, she believed that I gained strength through our connection, allowing my dormant power to come forth.
By eighth grade, Will started noticing other girls and I became jealous and did something I shouldn’t have. I compelled Will to meet me by the lake and kiss me. I had seen him kiss Monica Wells’ cheek on the playground, and it was all I could do not to curse her. Instead, I determined to be Will first lip kiss. I was resolved to compel him to love me.
It was wonderful, in that Will took me in his arms, whispered endearments in my ear, and gave me the most tender kiss. It was disappointing, in that the reality was that I was kissing myself. When I realized that I ran home, releasing Will while now compelling him to forget the whole incident.
When I got home, my mother met me at the door. “What did you do?” she demanded. “Your aura is dark — what did you do?” she repeated.
When I told her, she was horrified. “You can’t compel him to love you. You’ll destroy your connection that way. He must realize that he loves you. With your connection it was a given that it would eventually happen, but now,” my mother had tears in her eyes as she regarded me, “you may have ruined it all.”
Later, as I cried and she comforted me, it came out that I had erased the memory from Will’s mind. My mother sighed in relief. “That was the right move. You’ve got a good chance that nothing will change.” Then she looked at me sternly, “But never, never force an emotion on Will. He must come to you.”
Though eighth grade and freshman year, it appeared that nothing had changed. Will was still avoiding me. I was still freaking him out. I couldn’t help it. Somehow, I was compelled to look at him when I knew that he would be looking at me. But I cried a lot at home after seeing him holding hands with other girls.
Sophomore year, I went a little crazy. It was at the beginning of the year that I disobeyed my mother, but I couldn’t help it. I overheard some girls talking about Will and Eleanor Windom being lab partners. According to them, Eleanor had eyes for my Will and Will, well, he had been drooling over Eleanor for at least a year. Everyone knew he had been crushing on her.
So, I did it. I cursed Eleanor, wishing her away from my school, whatever it took. I was horrified when her father had a horrible car accident. I never intended that, never wanted anyone to be hurt. But I had done it. I told my mother and she cried for the mark I had put on my soul.
Over the years, my mother and my aunts helped me try to do good things for Eleanor and her family, but curses are easy, good deeds not so much. We were able to influence his work to not just keep him employed after his recovery, but to promote him into a better paying job. But how do you take away the pain and grief you’ve caused to him and his family? And what about the drunk in the other car? Would he have avoided an accident had I not cursed Eleanor?
Even now, years later, I wake up crying for the evil that I had done.
To make it worse, my ploy was successful. I went to the office and requested to be moved to Will’s biology class. I had a typing class that period and would be able to switch my current biology class to another typing class. Without question or argument, Mrs. Dorman, the school secretary, turned and began filling out the paperwork for the change. When she finished, she brought it to the principal in his office. I saw him scan the papers, look up at me at the office counter, then question Mrs. Dorman. He shook his head, got up, and came out to me with the papers in his hands.
“Miss Goode, this won’t be happening,” he started. “The year has started, and I suspect that you’re only requesting this to be with friends.” He gave me a sarcastic look. “Or maybe some boy.”
I stood looking at him, wondering how I could influence him. Emotions weren’t going to change his mind. I thought, “He has to do this. He has to.” I wanted to cry in frustration.
It was then the principal reached into his pocket, pulled out his pin and approved the transfer. Without a word, he returned to his office. Mrs. Dorman took the papers and handed me the sheets to give to the teachers of each class. It was done.
Had I somehow used mind control on these two adults? If so, I’ve never been able to repeat the deed. Other than Will, I don’t seem to have that power. Or maybe my love of Will and my need to be his partner gave me extra strength. I don’t know or care. I was going to be with my Will.
When the biology teacher took my paper and told me that I would be Will’s lab partner, I could see a look of panic on Will’s face. When we had lab the next day, I was sitting on my stool when Will came into the room. When he approached, I smiled at him, and he stopped and looked at me. His mouth was moving, pursing and then his tongue moved over his lips, back and forth. Then his mouth hung open for a second as he stared at me. I looked back and smiled a little broader.
“Sarah, would you like to go out with me?” Will said in a rush. My heart soared. And that was it. From then on, we were a pair, spending every minute together.
We were typical high school lovers, almost. We went on dates to movies and dances, spent time studying together or just lying on the grass watching clouds go by. Any excuse to be together, to hold hands and to kiss. We had heavy make out sessions, that thrilled and excited us. I felt my arousal in a delicious desperation, but Will’s passion overwhelmed me in waves of urgent need. It took all my willpower to overcome my Will’s power, but I managed to calm our excitement and maintain my virginity. Later, it took my mother’s potions to subdue my libido, and all my emotional manipulation and mind control to make my Will content to wait.
For wait we must. My 18th birthday would be a milestone in my development as a witch. At that time, my mother and aunts would ‘harvest’ my hymen, the most important ingredient necessary for my passage into adult witchcraft. My future strength and development were dependent on this. Many witches’ powers fade with age when not bound by the hymen ceremony. After the ceremony I felt more empowered and at sync with my womanhood and nature.
When I was seventeen, I had determined to break the rules governing the Hexing Families. The Tribunal had determined that because of the weakening of powers, a breeding program would be mandatory to avoid the total dissipation of witch power. Each year, every witch and warlock would be assigned a sexual partner with whom to breed on the powerful night of Samhain. It would be voluntary through the 21st year, but mandatory after full adulthood. Children bred from two empowered beings on that all-powerful evening, when the afterworld and this world were closest, were sure to revive the old strengths and powers.
Moreover, the further dissipation of powers was forthwith forbidden of all members of the Hexing Families. That meant that Will and I could never have children. I cried when my mother explained that. I begged for an exception, given the strength of Will’s and my connection. I plead that the Mind Control power I had with him should be cared for and protected. I was denied.
So, I planned. Will wanted to go to Harvard, and he could have, but I influenced him to follow me to Salem State. I insisted on living in a dorm, and my mother agreed, hoping to ease my disappointment at the Hexing Tribunal’s decree.
So, it was in my dorm room, on the Samhain following my 18th birthday, that Will shed his Ivanhoe armor and I my witch’s robes and I gave myself to my one love. I prayed to all the gods that I would bear him a child. I tried and tried, wearing him out and then waited breathlessly for a pregnancy. I cried when I began to bleed.
We had sex regularly thereafter, but I tried to avoid pregnancy, except on Halloween, as Will insisted on calling Samhain. But on that evening, the next two years, I tried every trick and position I had read of or envisioned. I introduced him to new positions which seemed to guarantee more chances of Will’s sperm finding my eggs. I thought that if we could make a child on that powerful night, the result would be strong enough to have the Tribunal forgive us our transgression. And if they didn’t, so be it. Will was worth any punishment or sacrifice.
It never happened. I was never able to breed with Will. We married after graduation, but that October 31st, I was required to attend my aunt’s Samhain celebration and submit to my assigned breeding partner. I would have resisted, but the Tribunal’s approval of my marriage to my non-witch Will was conditional on my submission to their will. My mother told me that I should fear for my husband’s well-being if I were to fail to submit.
The Tribunal had also insisted on our habitation at the family house in the Chestnut Street District of Salem. The house was old and enchanted, dating from the 16th century when my ancestors knew how to charm a home. Our house had a sense of humor and an initial distaste for my husband. It seemed to lower the doors when Will would walk through one, bumping his head continuously. It also would turn the shower water icy cold while he showered, then flip it to scalding as Will desperately attempted to work the valves. I told him it was due to flushing toilets, and leaned on his mind so he didn’t question it.
Finally, when Will had had it and threatened to move us out, I gave the house an ultimatum. If it didn’t behave, we would commission a remodel which might remove its cognizance, its self-awareness. Since Will was already attacking the plumbing and the heating, the house believed and gave in. It left Will alone after that. It still would lower the doorways on guests, but since I found that amusing as well, I didn’t interfere.
Our marriage was wonderful, everything I had known was to be from kindergarten on. Will was surely my other half. We were complete, and completely in love, physically and emotionally. We couldn’t bear to be separated and couldn’t keep our hands off of each other when we were together.
But the Tribunal was watching. So, on my 22nd Samhain I clouded Will’s mind with plans to decorate the house and handout Halloween candies to the neighborhood children. He wasn’t to question my aunt’s need for me to attend her celebration. At the celebration there were potions that removed inhibitions, and the result was an old fashion Samhain orgy. I returned home in the morning, in a haze, unsure about what or who I had done, but well aware that I had been thoroughly bred. The result in July was our son, Blaise.
Although I never used birth control, Will and my daily bouts of sexual activity never took hold, so that over the years, ensuing Halloweens eventually resulted in Gwendolyn, Tabitha and Circe. I didn’t conceive every year, two years between Gwen and Tabby, and almost five before Circe. Will was a wonderful father, and my children were connected to him as strongly as I was. It was an effort for all five of us to focus on anything other than Will when he looked at us. I could feel the love flow from my children towards Will, even when they were in diapers. They felt the love, safety and comfort that I felt when I was with my Will.
But I knew that they weren’t Will’s, and I desperately wanted to give him his own child, even if he thought they were all his. But it never happened, and I cried more with each period. We were approaching our tenth anniversary, and I couldn’t give him this gift.
Then it was October once again. The children and I headed out to the Samhain celebrations while Will was excited (because of my urgings) to decorate and hand out the candy. The children had been accompanying me to the celebrations to undergo their yearly rites of passage. I’d drop them off at the juvenile location before attending the breeding celebrations. Another year when I awoke on the first of November with vague memories of the previous night, anxious to wash off the blood and hurry home to my love.
When we got home the house was oddly sad. I cheerfully called for my Will, but only heard an echo. Then the door to the kitchen slowly swung open and there I saw Will’s phone and, my god, his wedding ring.
I handed Circe to her brother and ran through the house calling for Will. The house sadly related his fall from the ladder and his hurried departure from the house. His return and final departure later was also pictured for me.
He was nowhere to be found, and many of his things were missing. I called everyone we knew but couldn’t find him. No one had heard from him. The following day, Monday, I called his work, only to be informed that he was on vacation. After two weeks I called again, only to be told that he had extended his leave.
For once, I didn’t cry when my period began. I felt relief.
It was during the fourth week that Will pulled into our driveway, followed by a Sheriff’s cruiser. I flew out the door and tried to embrace my love, but he held me away from him. He refused to look at my face. I cried and called for him to look at me, but he refused. He told me he never wanted to look at me ever again, just as the deputy approached me and called my name.
When I responded, the deputy told me I’d been served. It was divorce papers.
“What? Will, why, why?” I grabbed Will’s arm as I collapsed to the ground, our children gathering around me.
“Why?” I heard Will ask. “That’s my question, Sarah. Why the orgy at Hecuba’s. Why… Why are none of the children mine? Are they all the results of some Halloween orgy? Why? WHY?” he yelled.
I felt the calm that Will always brought me. It was probably the worst thing that could have happened then. I stopped weeping and stood with my children. Blaise handed Circe to me.
“Why?” I said calmly. “Well, to give them the best Warlock heritage I could. It’s important to intermix the Hexing Family lines, to keep them strong. It’s my duty to the family.” As the words came out of my mouth, I realized that the Tribunal must have put a binding spell on me. These were their words.
I continued. “Unfortunately, you have no sorcery heritage to pull from. Children from your seed would have been a waste. And copulation with a warlock on Halloween is especially magical. The offspring’s powers are magnified. You should be proud of your children. They are among the most promising of their generation.”
“I have no children.” Will almost hissed at me. I heard Gwendolyn gasp in surprise, which surprised me. What did she think the Samhain celebration was? Will continued, “I pulled DNA from their baby teeth. I’m not the father of anyone. None of them even have the same father!”
“Their baby teeth? You took them? Where are they?” My heart fluttered in panic. Those teeth were important to the milestone passage rites of my children. “Give them back. Please, give them back.” I pulled at Will’s arm, pleading with him, the calmness I had felt now gone.
“No,” Will hissed at me. “I crushed them all and poured them down the toilet.” The children wailed in horror, their futures endangered.
“My GOD!” I yelled. “Those teeth are necessary for the children’s rites. They won’t attain their full potential without them!”
“Too bad. Maybe you should have their fathers supply some teeth. I’d be happy to knock them out.” Will sneered as he went towards his car.
I grabbed his arm. “Look at me! Will, look at me! We can fix this if you’ll just look at me!” I knew I could fix this if Will would just look at me. I was reaching for his mind, but in my panic, I couldn’t find it. I could almost feel it, but it slipped away as he jumped in his car and drove away.
Will left half of our money, but it didn’t matter. There were family trusts available, and the house was free. I would be fine and so would my children. My mother and aunts came to help because I was nearly catatonic for that first year Will was gone. I felt torn asunder. I knew that my heart had been ripped out, but I felt my whole being, my identity had been destroyed. I had my children’s love, which was enough to heal me after that first year, but not enough to restore me.
I stopped doing witchcraft. I defied the Tribunal and never again attended any Samhain celebrations. My mother still took my children, but I was already dead, as far as I was concerned. What more could the Tribunal do to me. I sat, mourning my Will, feeling the faint vibrations that still connected us, even at a distance. I could tell he was there but knew he would reject me.
When three years had passed and I was still depressed, still refusing my abilities, my mother sat me down and made her confession. It was she who had blocked or terminated the conceptions that had occurred with my Will. I had conceived, more than once, and my mother had used spells and potions to abort the children before I was even aware of them. She had then cursed me, to permanently end my chances of the children I so desperately wanted with my husband.
My loving mother had destroyed me. It was my mother who had explained to me what curses could do to your soul and will-being. My mother, who was now dying of the cancer that she believed her evil doings had generated. We good witches usually are blessed with good health, being in tune as we are with nature. But the evil that bad witches do often erupts in pustules and lesions on their bodies after time, exhibiting their imbalance with nature.
My mother’s meddling, which had lasted for years, had inevitably taken its toll. I wept for her, my lost children, and for my lost love.
Blaise and Gwendolyn had had to have teeth extracted from their mouths for their passage rites, since their baby teeth were gone. Luckily, they had both developed wisdom teeth. I cautioned them not to blame their father, Will, but was told that they didn’t. They blamed me. Their younger siblings were lucky: Tabitha had still been losing teeth when Will left, and Circe’s were still just growing in at the time.
I spent Samhain alone in my house, regretting my previous obedience to the Tribunal that resulted in my losing Will. Did he ever realize or understand that I was a witch? He seemed to. He’d told me that I “did things” to him, so he knew something. Should I have just told him, told him about the Hexing Families, the Tribunal, and about my duties to them? I knew now that I should never have even attempted to control his mind, but it had seemed so harmless. Was that an act that had blackened my soul? My mother’s acts were out of love for me, she claimed; were mine any different? I wondered.
After five years, the tickling connection with Will somehow strengthened. I could feel his feelings, his cold or warmth, his fears or much more rarely, his joys. It pulled at me. The house, which had ended up missing Will as well, to the point it had even given up making visitors bump their heads or trip on stairs, seemed to be pushing me out. Between the pull and the push, I gathered Blaise and Gwendolyn. I sent them to Vermont and New York. We could all still feel where Will was. Our faces would just turn that way. I used my children to triangulate on my husband, or rather ex-husband now.
We worked our way across the country, eventually pinpointing him in Modesto, California. He was working in an almond grove. Our connection grew stronger, pulling more and more on me. We observed Will from afar, but I could tell he felt the pull as well. That night, he loaded up his car and headed south. We followed, finding him in Taft.
For the first time in five years, I cast a spell, one that would not sever, but would hide the connection between my children, my husband and myself. Since my spells didn’t always pan out and I was rusty on top of that, I wasn’t sure my plan would work. But it seemed to.
The next morning, I rose early and waited outside Will’s motel. When he came out and entered the café across the street, I followed him in and slid into the booth across from him.
While I desperately wanted to look at my love, I conspicuously stared out the window to my left. “I will not look at you. I will not do anything to you, but I would like to explain.” I began. “Please. I will never bother you again.”
“How did you find me?” Will wanted to know.
“The connection we have, and the one the children have with you. I think I’ve always known where you were, but I used the kids to triangulate on you. Blaise and Gwen are here with me. They miss you. They all miss you. You may not think you’re their father, but they do. You are the only father they’ve ever known.” My voice was unsteady. I tried to get ahold of my emotions.
“I’ve missed them, too.” Will’s whisper almost went unheard. He continued at a normal level, “So, I guess it won’t do me any good to run, will it. Just delaying fate.
“What is it you have to explain? That you tricked me? Bewitched me? Took part in wild orgies? Made me a cuckold raising your various lovers’ children.” While the question was made in a monotone, I felt each sentence lash at me.
“No! Yes! I don’t know.” I was confused and it was all starting off badly. “Yes! I bewitched you. Yes, I took part in wild orgies, I guess. I never remember. It wasn’t ever my choice.”
“Oh, you were raped? At least four times? Or rather five? I know I saw at least one after Circe was born.” Will sneered at me, unbelieving.
I was horrified. I might not remember any Samhain celebrations, but I’d seen paintings and read descriptions of past ones. It wouldn’t have looked good to my husband.
“No, I’m not claiming I was raped. Just let me start at the beginning. You can eat breakfast and I’ll tell you everything.” Will agreed. He ordered when the waitress came over. I just asked for coffee.
“Get to it,” Will demanded.
“I felt you before I ever knew you. You felt it too, I know. It started in kindergarten…” Over the next hour, I honestly told Will everything that had happened to him and to me. I told him the good and the bad, including the evil I had done to Eleanor Windom. I studiously avoided looking at him, but I could feel his horror and loathing at that part of my story. Tears rolled down my cheek as I confessed.
I told him about the Hexing Families and the Tribunal, how I had had to agree to the Samhain celebrations to be able to marry him and then to protect him. I told him of the potions my mother had prepared those nights and how I never remembered any of the sex or celebrations. As far as I knew from remembered experiences, I had only had sex with him. His disdain and disbelief rolled over me like a bad odor.
I told him how desperately I had tried to become pregnant with his child, but how my mother had poisoned me and caused abortions and then cursed me. He cursed her, viciously.
I felt him look at me and I could feel some of his anger melt as our connection grew. I was tempted to turn. I so wanted to look upon my lover. But I had promised.
Suddenly, I felt our connection grow colder. “None of that excuses you, though.” His voice was hard. “You knew you were going to be bred on Halloween, you knew none of the children were mine and you deliberately messed with my mind.
“You never trusted me enough to explain your true nature or the challenges we would face.” He reached out and grabbed my hand. “Look at me.”
I hesitated, not sure what to do.
He pulled at my hand. “Look at me, dammit, NOW!”
I looked at him and I fell into his blue eyes. How I’d missed that. I scanned his face eagerly absorbing the sight of him, drinking in his face like a thirsty man anxiously drinks water. I felt my mind reach out for him and hurriedly brought it under control.
“How can I ever trust you? How do I know reality from your bewitchments.” His face twisted in a tortured pain. My heart almost broke again.
“I swear to you — I will never again…” was all I could say before he cut me off.
“NO! I will never be able to trust you. Leave, and leave me alone. That’s all I want of you.” His face was hard.
I nodded, acquiescing to his demand. “Okay. I just wanted you to know that I have always loved you, and never wanted to deceive you.”
As I got up, I said, “Blaise and Gwen are here. They’d like to see you.”
Will shook his head. “No. Tell them I love them, and their sisters, but it’s just too hard. It’s better if I never see them.”
The three of us travelled back to Salem, without speaking an unnecessary word. I don’t know what I expected to change, but now realized that we had all harbored a secret hope that somehow, we would get our loving Will back. But it wasn’t to be.
We became resigned to our fate.
[—————————————————————————–]
I watched Sarah as she walked down the street. I saw my children step out of a small park and then walk with her to a car with Massachusetts plates. They drove away. Sarah never looked back. For the first time that I could remember, I was staring at my wife and not seeing her eyes.
A year has passed. I thought for sure Sarah would try to influence me somehow. She’d been right, I was still aware of our connection and hadn’t really been surprised when she found me. That connection was always there, stronger than the fainter ones I could tell were from the children. When it became an irritation, I would move. That would ease the pull, but it would never disappear.
After her visit, I stopped moving. Obviously, she could find me anywhere, anytime. I was surprised that she didn’t appear again. I knew that when I demanded she look at me, she could have bewitched me then to forget all our troubles. I would have been dumb and unaware again, but happy. And in love.
I was surprised how much I missed that. How much I missed her and the kids. Five years later and they were still my life. I felt incomplete and lonely.
For a year I thought of Sarah’s story, how the Tribunal could have dealt with me, how it wouldn’t have been with mind control but with something deadly. I thought of the Halloweens before her 22nd, and how she had been so insistent on sex, over and over again. I remembered the new things she would bring into our lovemaking and how much she wanted to conceive. When I thought about her story and remembered our time together, I felt the ring of truth. Did she love me, really?
And the kids — they always seem to not just love me, but to adore me. We’d done everything together. We’d been so happy. Would I have felt any different about them had they been adopted?
It had been love. I was sure of it.
I was sure of it until I remember how excited I was to decorate the house and hand out candies to the neighborhood children. Thinking of it now, I felt anger at how she’d played me like a puppet, and I had never even questioned her disappearing act every Halloween. Excused me, every Samhain.
But the more I remembered, the more I missed her. I had been so happy. I remembered. I remembered.
[——————————————————————————–]
It was Samhain again. I was sitting alone on the porch. I could feel the house behind me, cold like it had been when we first moved in. It interacted with us less and less every year. I think the kids missed the house almost as much as I did. I didn’t decorate this year, and the house didn’t let it shutter go eschew or let the spiders grow big webs for atmosphere, as on previous Halloweens. I put out no pumpkins and left the porch light off, warning the children not to bother with this house. Halloween was over for me, forever.
On Halloween, the connection always felt strong. I sobbed as it pulled and washed over me, enveloping me in a memory of emotions and feelings. I sobbed again for my lost love. I battled despair as thoughts of suicide were beginning to appeal to me. The house groaned and shuttered.
The children were off with my mother and the aunts, passing their yearly rites. They were becoming strong witches. Blaise could transport objects a good sixty feet and Gwendolyn’s spells and potions were always on the mark. Tabby and Circe were still developing strongly, but it was still too early to get a sense of their true strength. As for me, I think my powers had atrophied. At least, I hoped they had.
As I sat, wrapped in a blanket against the cold Fall evening, I sat remembering the good times with Will. I was relating them to the house and felt a warmth at the remembering. My connection pulled at me. My heart was ready to burst, it was so full.
When the car pulled up, I was irritated that someone was going to interrupt my wonderful reminiscence. Then my heart stopped. Unbidden, my face turned to the street.
Will had gotten out of the car. He was looking at me, and as in the past, I was staring back. He smiled as he approached the porch. “So, you really don’t go to the Samhain celebrations anymore.”
I tentatively smiled back. “No, they cost me too much. There’s no punishment that the Tribunal could do to me that would be worse than what I have already lost.”
Will climbed up on the porch and stood in front of me. “You know,” he said, “I’ve missed you and I have always loved you. I was hurt at what a fool you made of me.”
A denial burst out of me. He shook his head. “No, you did. Admit it. I was SO excited to decorate the house and hand out candy. How fucking humiliated is that?”
I was confused. He was smiling when he said it. “Will, please don’t play with me. I can’t take it.” My eyes overflowed with tears. “Please don’t be cruel.”
He squatted in front of me and grasped my hands. “I am not. I’ve spent almost a year thinking about what you did, what you’ve told me, and the why of it all.
“I realized that you were driven by love, and that I was bewitched by that love. I also realized that despite everything, I love you and our children. That if I love you, how can I not trust you?”
He pulled me up and into his arms. “I want to come home.”
As we kissed, I heard the shutters creak as they went eschew. The porch light came on and the house made creepy noises. It was ready for Halloween. It had just been depressed, as were we all, by Will’s absence.
I hugged Will and kissed him deeply. “Even the house missed you. We were shut down for Halloween, but now it wants to celebrate.” I pulled Will towards the door. “But it’s going to have to wait and turn off that porch light.”
“Why?” Will asked as I pulled him into the house. “Shouldn’t I be excited about decorating and handing out candies?” My husband was joking, I hoped.
“What? No.” I responded. “Why do you think Halloween has to wait?” I smiled as I tugged at him, urgently.
“We’ve got five years to make up for.”
He understood as I led him into the bedroom.
Happy Halloween.