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And did she make you cry
Make you break down
Shatter your illusion of love
And is it over now
Do you know how?
To pick up the pieces and go home?
~ From “Gold Dust Woman” by Fleetwood Mac
The gray haired man swished his cane back and forth as he came to the immaculate white house. He walked up the beautiful garden and pounded smartly on the gold knocker. A small dark haired maid opened the door. “Yes sir?” she asked.
“I wish to speak to Thomas Crane,” the man said.
“He’s in his study sir,” the maid said. “I’ll take you right to him.”
The man followed the maid into the study. She opened the door and waved him inside. Thomas rose up from his chair. “Judge Isaiah Kent is it?” he said. “Thomas Crane.”
The two shook hands as Thomas continued. “I’m confident you will make a fine improvement over the last judge, since he ran off with the funds, and another man’s wife.”
“ You won’t find such frivolities from me,” Judge Kent said sternly. “Mr. Crane, I will be honest, I run a tight jurisdiction one that relies on rules and laws and I will do my best to get rid of those people.”
“Criminals,” Thomas said.
“No witches,” Judge Kent replied.
Thomas blinked at him. “I’m sorry, yer honor, did you say witches?”
Kent nodded. “Satan’s minions, devils.”
Thomas laughed politely. “Now you are starting to sound like my brother, where in the world, is he?”
Ichabod and Daniel raced up the steps to the door. “Beat you,” Daniel said as he touched the door first.
“No fair, you pushed me,” Ichabod teased.
“I only lightly shoved you to get you out of my way,” Daniel said lightly.
Ichabod grinned as he knocked on the door. “So what should we tell him this time?”
Daniel shrugged, but then thought it over. “Let’s see, I’ll take sick with the flu and you take have to work early tomorrow.”
“Didn’t we do that last time?” Ichabod asked.
Before Daniel could answer, the maid opened the door. “Mr. Ichabod, Master Daniel come inside, Mr. Thomas is expecting you.”
They followed the maid to the study where Thomas and Judge Kent rose from their chairs. “Ichabod, Daniel I want you to meet Judge Isaiah Kent. He will be replacing Judge Corry.”
“It’s a pleasure, I’ve read most of your essays,” Ichabod said, “But we met before.”
“We have?” Judge Kent asked curiously.
“Sure at the Grey Fox Inn last night owned by Ephran Delcroix,” Ichabod answered.
“Oh yes,” Kent replied. “I stayed there for the night.” Kent then turned to Daniel, and looked at him for a long time. Daniel looked rather uncomfortable, but then shook Judge Kent’s hand rather warmly. “Yer honor, it’s a pleasure,” Daniel said.
“Likewise,” the Judge answered.
Thomas clapped his hands together. “Well now that we are all here and acquainted let’s have supper shall we?”
Elizabeth, Thomas’s wife looked from person to person as they ate. Their four daughters, Rebecca, Martha, Lydia, and Virginia were seated at the children’s table as usual having some kind of conversation that only children would have, but on the adult table things were silent. Judge Kent ate politely observing everyone and everything around him silently in such a way it made Elizabeth rather nervous.
Thomas, Ichabod, and Daniel were eating in silence trying to avoid each other’s gaze. Elizabeth knew they didn’t get along and sometimes Thomas treated them like errant children, and Ichabod and Daniel felt that his hold on them was too great. Sometimes the two sat or ate in silence waiting for the first blow.
Ichabod turned to the judge. “So where was your former jurisdiction, yer honor?”
“A place in Massachusetts, Salem,” Judge Kent replied. He looked from person to person. Elizabeth tried to hide an amused smile, Daniel and Thomas rolled their eyes, while Ichabod barely concealed a look of rabid interest. “You have heard of it, I presume,” he said.
“Oh, Ichabod’s an expert on Salem,” Daniel remarked wryly.
“Really,” Judge Kent asked. Ichabod nodded. “Then, I presume that you agree as well as I do, that the work of Salem is not finished there are still witches out there?”
“Yes sir,” Ichabod said.
“Yer honor, with all due respect, this isn’t Salem one hundred years ago,” Thomas said. “We live in the Age of Enlightenment, nowadays-“
“-Nowadays witches are freer more than ever to roam the woods, because no one is looking for them!,” Kent responded.
Daniel sniffed contemptuously. “All Salem was about were innocent people’s whose lives were destroyed by gossipy old biddies and obnoxious little girls who had too much power and ratted on them for doing things that were none of anyone else’s business!”
“They were hardly innocent,” Elizabeth responded.
“Fear is a powerful motivator,” Ichabod answered. “While no one here doubts the existence of the devil, they doubt that there are those who were willing to his handiwork? I imagine today there are still witches, but because we are so wrapped up in science, why I imagine it would be easier for witches to hide, “out in our homes and among the God fearing people” “Ichaobd then turned to Kent, “I’m sorry yer honor I couldn’t resist quoting your essay “Witchcraft in Our Time.” “ Kent nodded gravely.
Thomas pounded his hand on the table. “Whether the people accused were really witches or not, the Witch Trials did do the community a favor, they opened up the sins and punished the immoral. It is the duty of every community member to uphold it’s standards.”
“You mean rat on their friends?,” Daniel asked sardonically.
“I mean to make sure that no one in the community exhibits any scandalous behavior like having an illegitimate child, or becomes a drunkard, or in someone’s case courts a Negro woman!”
Daniel threw down his napkin. “I knew it would come to this! You think that I should feel ashamed for being with the woman I love!”
Thomas stood to face the young man. “No, I think you should feel ashamed for courting a woman who used to be a slave!”
Judge Kent interjected. “If I may, I suggest we hold our tongues and finish this delightful meal that Mrs. Crane made for us.”
“I agree,” Ichabod said as the others slowly returned to their meal. All the while Thomas hitting Ichabod and Daniel with savage looks.
The next afternoon, Ichabod opened the schoolhouse door as the children ran out excited that the day was finally over. Ichabod waited until the last child left, then walked around the room occasionally taking a bite of a forgotten apple or candy left in the desk.
He heard the whistle of a familiar Irish tune and smiled as a familiar red haired gangly young man came through the schoolhouse. “Evening Mr. Crane,” the man said. “Anything I can do for you tonight?”
Ichabod smiled. “ Good evening, Tristan, I suppose you can chop wood for fire for tomorrow morning. Don’t worry about putting in the oven, I’ll take care of that tomorrow.” Tristan Sydney was a best friend of Daniel’s. The two had known each other for years. They often playfully insulted each other, but always defended each other. Good thing, too with Tristan’s mouth and Daniel’s schemes, the two quite often got themselves into a lot of trouble. And they were still close, even after they left school and Tristan became a caretaker and Daniel was apprenticed to Ephram. Tristan was a jolly happy go lucky young man, who wasn’t always bright, but Ichabod couldn’t help but like him.
Ichabod continued observing the room. As he came upon a blue bag he sighed. “Look at this, Mary Putnam has left her bag again. I swear that girl would forget her own head if it wasn’t screwed on right.”
“Do you want me to take it, sir?” Tristan asked.
“No, I’ll take it,” Ichabod said. He then walked the mile to the girl’s house. He knocked on the door and left the bag with her mother. As he walked back, he caught sight of someone watching him in the woods. It appeared to be a man, but when Ichabod looked again the person disappeared.
When Ichabod arrived at the schoolhouse, he discovered that it was empty except for a stray orange cat. Ichabod muttered under his breath. “I must have told that boy a hundred times not to leave the door open. Who knows what stray animals could get in.”
He knelt down to pick up the cat as it cuddled up to his arms and reclined passively on his hands. “Well, you are tame even if you are a stray, but I only have one cat in my house and he’s spoiled enough, out you go.” He was about to let the cat out of the schoolhouse when a man appeared at the door. Ichabod jumped with panic. “Judge Kent, you startled me!”
“I’m sorry Mr. Crane, but I have a proposition for you,” Kent began. The cat wiggled and yowled in Ichabod’s hands, but eventually struggled his way to freedom. He ran under the judge’s legs and out the door.
“What is this proposition, yer honor?” Ichabod asked.
“Mr. Crane, have you ever heard of Matthew Hopkins: Witchfinder General?”
Ichabod nodded. “I should say so, he was a man who hunted witches over a hundred years ago. He killed at least 300.”
The judge nodded. “But over 186 got away from him. Either by having their so-called innocence proclaimed or by disappearing never to be found. Mr. Crane, I am a descendant of Matthew Hopkins and it is my family’s duty to hunt down and destroy these minions of Satan. And I need your help?”
“Me?” Ichabod asked. “What do you want me for?”
“You believe in witches and spirits just as much as I! I have heard of your abilities to occasionally see into the spirit world, and I think someone as intuitive as I could find the witches and hunt them down.”
Ichabod laughed. “That’s a pretty sweet setup sir, but I cannot go around accusing innocent people. There are no witches here, if there were I would know about it. I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to refuse.”
The judge sighed as though it were a lost cause. “Suit yourself, but I have a feeling you will come around.” The judge left swishing his cane back and forth as he walked out of the schoolhouse.
Ichabod rose from his bed. He wasn’t sure what woke him up, it felt like a song or a chant. He looked out the window, but saw that was dark and lonely outside. Ichabod was about to go back to sleep when he heard that strange sound calling to him. It seemed to be calling his name, “Ichabod. Ichabod. Ichabod.” Without thinking about it, Ichabod rose from his bed and put on his winter coat over his night shirt and slippers. He walked further and furthter until he reached the front door and slammed it shut behind him.
Ichabod walked a little further down the road, until he passed by the woods. Inexplicably, he felt drawn to the woods, so he walked off the gravel road to the trees. He removed the branches leaves and bushes in front of him as he walked through. Occasionally he stepped on a branch and it made a crack under his slippered feet. As he walked the singing got louder, until he realized it was a man chanting. He removed one of the branches in front of him, but it scratched his right hand. Ichabod whispered and cursed in pain.
He continued to walk until he reached a clearing and he could see a man standing over a cauldron. His back was turned, but Ichabod knew from the white hair and British accent that it was Stephen Darling. Sitting on the other side of Darling was a gray wolf with piercing blue eyes. Ichabod realized that Darling was the one doing the chanting!
He chanted, “Mother Goddess Diana
Goddess of the moon
And Protectoress of my coven
Please allow this potion to do my work
Father God, Apollo
God of the Sung
And protector of my coven
Please allow this potion to do my work”
Ichabod leaned closer to get a better look, but as he did he broke a branch underneath his feet. The wolf began to growl and bark to get his master’s attention. Stephen Darling turned around, but Ichabod got away from his post and ran.
“Endymion, find him!” Darling commanded his wolf.
Ichabod ran through the woods cutting through branches, but one seemed to spring up underneath his feet and trip him. Ichabod gave a slight scream and fell to the ground.
Ichabod slowly lifted his eyes as he looked squarely at a pair of black boots. His eyes traveled all the way up the body until he looked straight at Stephen Darling! Ichabod stammered and quivered. “Uh…I….well….that is…”
Without another word, Stephen picked Ichabod up sharply by the arm and shook him real hard. “I am warning you, Crane,” he said threateningly. “Stay out of affairs that are none of your business or things will go very ill with you!” He held him by the arm so hard that Ichabod winced in pain. Stephn chanted something that Ichabod didn’t understand. “Silizama Silizama!”
“Uncle Ichabod,” a voice called to him. Ichabod opened his eyes and realized he was standing in his own porch. He gulped a few times, his encounter with Stephen Darling a clear memory.
Daniel continued. “I heard your room door slam and thought I would follow you out here. You must have been sleepwalking.”
Ichabod mumbled. “Stephen Darling I ran into him in the woods. He’s a warlock, he tried to kill me!”
“Ichabod,” Daniel said. “You never left the porch, it must have been a dream.”
Ichabod rubbed his eyes. Was it all a dream? It certainly felt real. From the corner of his eye, he saw that his right hand had a slight scratch on it from the branch and his right forearm felt bruised like someone had held him to hard.
Before he could say anything, Daniel led him inside. “Come on, come back to bed. Before you catch cold,” he whispered as he walked his dazed uncle into the house shutting the door quietly behind them.
“I keep telling you what I saw,” Ichabod said.
“And I keep telling you that you never left the porch,” Daniel answered.
“You don’t believe me?” Ichabod asked.
“I believe in a lot of things and I believe that you believe it to be possible,” the nephew answered seriously. “And I believe that you believe, but I think you should be careful about who you should trust.”
“Well, I didn’t trusted Stephen Darling,” Ichabod replied. “I don’t usually trust a man who grabs me by the wrist and threatens to kill me.”
“I wasn’t talking about him,” Daniel said shortly.
Ichabod and Daniel were headed for Silas’ old bedroom discussing last night’s events and looking for anything they could give away at auction. Elizabeth and the lady’s circle had come up with the idea of a charity auction and dance for the Fall, so the uncle and nephew decided to look inside the older rooms for anything that they can give away.
“I don’t think this is right,” Ichabod said. “What if the spirit of my father comes and demands his things back?”
“Then we’ll just have to direct him to haunt the people who have the stuff,” Daniel quipped. “Really, Ichabod, if Grandfather was going to haunt this house he would have done so by now.” Daniel was the first to open the bedroom door and look inside. He jumped in surprise and yelled, “What is that?”
Ichabod ran to the door. “What? What is it?”
“Oh, just the hat rack,” Daniel said.
Ichabod practically growled. “You could have killed me with that!”
“I was just having fun come on let’s get through these things,” Daniel invited.
Ichabod shook his head and muttered under his breath as he walked in the room “ I swear that boy will be the death of me.”
“Well, if Grandfather’s spirit doesn’t kill us, the dust might,” Daniel said as the two went into the private room smelling the dust coming off from the bed and the furniture and practically making it difficult to walk in.
“How long did you say you had been in here?” Daniel asked.
“Since right after my father died,” Ichabod said. “You mother and father closed it up, because they didn’t want to disturb the room.”
“Ah yes I remember now,” Daniel said as he walked in and impulsively fingered some of the artifacts. “ Papa used to scare me with tales that Grandfather was still in here. ‘Watch out or we’ll lock you in with Grandfather’. ‘Behave outside or you’ll be visiting Grandfather’. Of course they never did, but I used to picture the old man sitting on the rocking chair a shriveled up skeleton. Really does wonders when you’re a child.”
“Uh, I think that’s enough,” Ichabod said. “We must continue searching musn’t we?”
Daniel and Ichabod searched the rooms in silence. They pulled out an occasional box, or pipe, or antique. Nervously Ichabod kept his eye on the rocking chair but tried not to show it in front of his nephew.
Daniel pulled out a small object that he held in his hand. “Ichabod take a look at this!” Daniel said. “I didn’t know Grandfather was in a war.”
“Only for a little while,” Ichabod said. “He served briefly during the Seven Years War, but was wounded in the back. He was too old for the War for Independence. Let me see that.” He held the flat gold disk and the stripes by it. Ichabod carefully rubbed the dust off of it and read the name. “ ‘To Daniel Elisha Crane for his service in the Battle for Bunker Hill. Fortitude, Glory, and Strength.’ I remember this, this belonged to your Uncle Daniel.”
“Really?” Daniel asked. “ Mama and Papa mentioned him a few times saying I was named for him.”
“Yes, you were born the year after,” Ichabod gulped. He couldn’t finish that thought. “I remember Papa was so proud of him, and Thomas, and Matthew, and well I wasn’t exactly his favorite. But, I think Daniel was his favorite of the sons. He was a lot like you, lighthearted, jovial, though sometimes I was the butt of his pranks. But he could also be very strong willed and serious when he wanted to be. He was also the most athletic and muscular of us. He could help Papa with the farm, and still have enough energy afterwards. I remember this one summer, when we were out playing in a field. Thomas and Matthew were talking to each other, I don’t remember what. Papa was inside as usual and I had wandered off, I don’t remember why, probably looking for fairies, and I got lost. Well, it got dark and cold and I didn’t know where I was, but Daniel, your uncle, came and rescued me. When we arrived at the house, Papa was so furious that he would’ve tanned our hides if Daniel hadn’t told him that he was taking me out for a walk in the woods and we lost track of time. Because Papa believed I was with Daniel, he let us both get off.”
Daniel smiled sadly and spoke wistfully. “It’s kind of hard to imagine another Daniel who lived and died before I could even see him. How did he die? Mother and Father never mentioned it.”
Ichabod sighed. “That’s because your father and Thomas were fighting in the war, and your mother had gone to visit some relatives in Boston. They only heard after the fact, but I was there. I was outside in the front porch reading Paradise Lost, when I saw Daniel coming up the road in his blue uniform whistling. I ran into the house calling for Papa screaming, ‘Daniel’s home, Papa’, but when he came outside there were two men who reported that Daniel was killed in battle. Papa went into his room immediately and didn’t come out until later that night and then just to scold me for playing childish pranks. He grabbed me and shook me hard, until he let go and then went back in his room and stayed there for nearly a week grieving. But I knew what I saw then and I still know now. I smelt the whiskey that he used to drink, his favorite tobacco. I heard him whistle the way he always did slightly out of tune and always forgetting the next part. I saw him wave at me calling me, “ Scaredcrow,” which was what he used to call me. It was Daniel coming up the road that day!”
Ichabod and Daniel both sat down on the bed lost in their own thoughts to moved to say anything, the sun outside was cool and occasionally a bird chirped. Ichabod and Daniel sighed remaining respectfully silent.
After the silence was broken, Ichabod stood up. “Come on, we have got to get this stuff to Elizabeth.” Daniel nodded and walked out of the room his arms full of boxes with things in them. Ichabod was about to leave when he thought he heard the rocking chair rock. “You know Daniel,” he said. “I’m really getting tired of these-“ But when he walked closer the rocking chair rocked on its own. Ichabod glanced horrified as it continued to rock and an image began to form on it of an elderly man sitting in the chair. He looked at Ichabod with cold undead eyes. “You worthless weakling,” he spat.
Terrified, Ichabod backed into the dresser and felt something stare at him through the mirror. He turned around to see a man and a woman, Matthew and Catherine staring right back at him. Ichabod gasped and screamed. He fell on the bed and opened his eyes to see a brown haired man in a soldier’s uniform looking blankly at him. Ichabod sat up and could see the red mark that represented the blood. Ichabod screamed like he was being tortured and backed away from the room.
He backed into someone else and still screamed. “Ichabod, it’s okay!” Daniel said. “It’s Daniel! I’m here!” Ichabod looked closely at his nephew and shivered. “I see ghosts everywhere. I think I’m being cursed.” He made a sound that was like frightened gasps and sobs.
“Shh, it’s all right, Daniel whispered. “Everything will be all right.” He held his uncle tighter as though he were a small child. “I’ll do everything I can to take care of this, I promise.” He embraced Ichabod and let the older man shiver in his arms, until he calmed down.