“True or false.” Darvin Warwick drummed his fingers of the table in front of him. The judge sat on the bench while the jurors sat in the jury box listening to the testimony. A couple of them yawn as the prosecuting attorney swaggered in front of the them. “Your mother was a witch.”
“Tis true.” Kali Trabell said as she exhaled.
“You mother, Lachesis was convicted in 1722.” Darvin read from the affidavit of the court.
“Yes.” Kali appeared disinterested in whatever the prosecutor had to say. She knew her mother’s name. She was just twelve years old when she watched them take her to the scaffold, place the noose around her neck before dropping the trap door that took her to her eternity.
“Is it true since her execution, you have worked in this town as a midwife?” He turned his head and smiled at the jury even though it appeared more as a sneer.
“You know that since I attended you own wife at the birth of your daughter.” Kali’s face became stern; her green eyes flashed with a spark of loathing toward Darvin. It was a breech delivery in which both mother and infant were in peril, but she applied some potion which appeared to save both of their lives.
“It has been reported that you use elixirs and trickery in your practice.” He tilted his head as if whatever she had to say came straight from the mouth of Satan himself.
“If I had not used them, you’d be visiting two graves at this time.” She bowed her head, “Whatever I did saved the lives of both your wife and child.”
“Your honor, this is woman is not on trial for her successful delivery of my child, she is on trial for witchcraft that her mother bestowed upon her before she was executed for her crimes against God.” His voice rose to wake those who had nodded off in the stifled stale air of the courtroom.
“It seems to me, Master Warwick, you should be grateful for their deliverance.” Kali stood in the witness stand.
“Young lady, please take your seat or I shall order you to be restrained.” The Judge warned her as he spoke to her in confidence.
Those who knew Kali Trabell knew of her troubled past. Witchcraft was a family tradition carried over the Scottish Highlands of Inverness when her grandmother Dara Kilgore. Dara was preparing to flee her homeland as King James proclaimed anyone practicing witchcraft would be executed. Dara became one of the hundreds of women both guilty and not, went to the gallows in a time of cleansing.
The New World promised to be a place of sanctuary until the Puritans arrived to cleanse the New World. In the zealot effort, they brought many young women to justice. This did not stop as they also were brought their hammer down on the indigenous people they encountered who did not accept the merciless and vindictive Christ of their Bible.
Meanwhile the Trabells hid in the more remote parts of the Massachusetts Bay Colony. In the cabin that Zane Trabell built with his own hands from the endless supply of forest that surrounded their land claim. Zane proved to also be a good provider for his wife Lachesis and their four children. The local indigenous people were not savages or aggressive like many of the people in the local area believed. The Wampanoag were more curious than savage about the new arrivals to their land. Lachesis would often invited the woman in to learn to crochet. In turn the women would teach Lachesis how to do bead work. Kali would linger among them, watching them with her mother produce fabulous hand knitted blankets and tablecloths. When she was old enough, the women would have Kali do her own bead work as they taught her how to make dolls, bangles, and trinkets that she would play with on their dirt floor.
The forest could be a dangerous place, so Lachesis told her daughter to stay close to the cabin and keep an eye on her younger siblings. On this one afternoon, however, a marauding band of warriors came down from the north. Zane was setting his traps when they rode up on him. Without warning one of the warriors struck him with an arrow. The others made sure the white settler was dead before they left.
When Lachesis went to Reverand Otis Cameron about have a funeral service for her husband, he smiled and shook his head, “I am most sorry Mrs. Trabell, but we only bury those of our faith.”
“We are God-fearing Christians.” She said in disbelief.
“But we are not of the same denomination.” He continued to shake his head.
“So where are those of our faith?” She asked.
“I have no idea, Mrs. Trabell.” He sighed, “I wish I could help you.”
“How can you call yourself a man of God turning your back on those in need?” She rose to her feet with her face turning scarlet red as she did.
“Please, calm yourself.” He rose to his feet afraid that she was going to strike him.
“I will not strike a man of God, but I will surely leave a curse on you.” She pointed accusing finger at him. She uttered a few words that were foreign to Reverand Cameron. He became quite disturbed by her utterances. She turned on her heels and left his office without another word.
It was not even a week later when Reverand Cameron died in a fire as his home and chapel were burned completely to the ground.
Meanwhile, Lachesis dug her husband’s grave without any assistance. She and the children stood over the open grave wiping the tears from their eyes, but Kali stood there silent and stoic as she watched her mother utter some prayers for him. When it was over, she helped her mother fill in the grave with a simple wooden cross to make his grave.
“Kali, there will be people who will not understand my ways.” She held her daughter on the wooden chair in the main room. “We will practice as me own mother did back in the old country.”
“What did she do?”
“She was executed for being a witch.” Lachesis kissed Kali on her forehead.
“What’s a witch?” Kali asked looking up at her mother with her dark green innocent eyes.
“People who are magic.” She stroked Kali’s forehead where she had kissed her. The fire in the hearth was still blazing, keeping the main room warm.All of the younger children were curled up in the warm blankets Lachesis had made them.
“Can they fly?” She asked sincerely.
“Some ancient people believed they could.”
“Can you, mother?”
“No.” She chuckled, “But I heard your grandmother could.”
“Really?” Kila became excited, “Do you think I could learn?”
“I wish she was here to teach you.” She reached over and hugged Kali.
Not long after she turned twelve, Kali began to read some of the ancient tomes her mother kept out of the reach of her children. In these thick manuscripts were spells and curses, but there was also instructions on how to do magic.
Kali was interested in learning to fly. She had frequent dreams where she would fly high above the treetops and over waterfalls. The air often tasted like fresh bread as she swooped down from lofty altitudes to get a better look at the creatures nestled in the trees.
“Hello, Kali.” She heard a voice call to her.
“Who are you?”
“I am Dara Kilgore, your grandmother.” She appeared as a shadow against the midday sun.
“You can fly just like me.” Kali said with delight.
“Yes and I will teach you to fly like a bird.” Dara appeared at Kila’s side.
“Why doesn’t mother know how to fly?” Kila asked as they began their ascent.
“She was afraid.” Her grandmother answered.
“Why was she afraid. Flying is wonderful.” Kali swooped close to the ground where she could see her shadow on pasture below.
“Back then in Scotland they would hunt and kill witches.” Dara explained, “When I was taken, there was a witness who testified that he saw me fly. They didn’t need any more evidence. I was found guilty and hanged.”
Kali woke up with a start. The rest of the day she stood in the pasture near the waterfall looking up at the sky. She went down to the shore of the river where she heard the water gurgle and bubble. She tossed stones into the water and watched the ripple run away. She decided to be on her way home. When she passed through the pasture, she looked up and said, “I know you’re up there, grandmother.”
When she arrived home, there were militia men taking her mother out of the house in shackles.
“Mother!” She cried and ran for the men who had her mother.
“Kali, sweetness.” Her mother was in tears. Kali had only seen her mother cry once before when she was at her father’s grave site.
“Stand aside miss.” One of the men pushed her.
“Do not touch my daughter!” She cried out.
“Be quiet witch.” The man sitting in the saddle commanded.
“Mother, you’re not a witch.” Kali declared.
“We have sworn testimony that she has been practicing witchcraft.” The man on the horse pulled out a document. “Can you read, child?”
“Yes, I can.” She affirmed, but when she approached him, he took out his pistol and struck her on the cheek. She fell to the ground. Her cheek was bleeding.
“Kali.” Her mother was taken in a horse drawn wagon in shackles.
Her cheek would bear the scar of her assault from that day forward. A couple of the women from the local tribe would take her to their camp where she and her siblings would be safe. Having stayed with the Wampanoag, many of the settlers did not trust her as they felt she had succumbed to their savage ways, but what she learned was not hostile. When she could Kali would slip away and find their old cabin covered in moss and ivy. She would go into her mother’s old room and take out the old manuscripts.
When she went back to the village, some of the older women taught her how to be a midwife and help those women who were giving birth.
One day when she returned from the cabin, the entire camp was gone.Smoke hovered over the clearing and the bodies of those killed during the raid laid where they had fallen. Her bothers and sister were gone. She saw the tracks of the horses. The horses had been shod, leaving her to conclude that the natives were most likely not responsible for the raid. She spent the next few hours burying the dead.
Before she was done with her task, a couple of warriors rode into the camp.
“Do you speak English?” The apparent leader asked her.
“Yes, I do.” She nodded.
“Did you see who did this?” He asked, but she shook her head. He bowed his head. “These were my brother’s people. Did you bury the dead?”
She nodded.
“We thank you.” He raised his hand, turned to the others and signaled for them to leave. They rode away in a single file line as they sounded the war cry. With nowhere else to go she went back to her cabin. She built a fire to keep warm as the sun retreated for the evening and a silver sliver of a moon hung steadily in the black sky.
“I will be with you my dear.” Her grandmother’s voice sounded, but she was unable to distinguish if her voice was inside her head or carried by the wind. It did not matter. She slept soundly beneath the stars as the fire was reduced to just embers.
At first light in the morning, she took some of the loose logs from the cabin her father had built and laid the logs into the shape of a pentagram. Once the pentagram was complete, she sat still with her eyes closed her legs folded in front of her and her elbows on her knees. She said the words that would bring the spirits to her. In a vision she saw herself soaring over the hills and forests with her grandmother leading the way.
“This way, my dear.” Her grandmother followed the wind flow. “Hold steady.”
“I will.” She spoke, but the wind seemed to force her voice back inside her.
“Witches are not evil.” Dara turned to speak over her shoulder as the wind continued to blow. “We are not the sisters of Satan. Those who hunt us down are the evil ones. They are afraid of our power. They see us as women who threaten their power. They may be physically stronger but it’s us who have the power bestowed on us to put right what they have disavowed.”
After they both sailed over the hill, Dara landed, and Kali followed.
“You will go back and live as a midwife. No one will suspect the power you hold.” Dara embraced her granddaughter, “Let no one take that power away from you, hear?”
“Yes grandmother.” She felt the warm embrace, but this was not a dream.
“Over there through that path is the town of Bern.” Dara pointed to a path that snaked through the woods. “Go now.”
“Where is my mother?” She turned and asked before disappearing into the wood.
“Oh my child, nothing could be done for her as it could not for me.” Dara bowed her head. “When I get back, she will be there waiting for me.”
A single tear fell across Kali’s scarred cheek.
“I will put a curse on them.” She whispered.
“Oh don’t do that, my child.” Dara shook her head, “She would not wish for vengeance.”
“Very well. I will do as you wish.”
“And her.”
“So, what say ye?” Darvin put his fist to the table.
“We the jury find the defendant guilty of witchcraft.” The tall man with the thick beard spoke in a voice that encompassed the entire room.
“Very well.” Darvin shut his saddle bag containing his legal documents. “We condemn ye, Kali Trabell to death for the crime of witchcraft. Do you have anything to say in your defense?”
“I do; you honor.” Kali stood up slowly as she peer around the crowded room. “My mother died in 1722, and I will follow her ten years later to the gallows. As I look around the room, I see those guilty of condemning me for a crime I have not committed. I have hurt no one. I have not done an injustice to anyone sitting here and yet I am the one being found guilty of something that really isn’t a crime. Let God be my judge, because those who seek justice here on earth will be solely disappointed as I have been in this proceeding. Death is not reserved for only the guilty. It will come to the innocent as well. My time has been accounted for in full. Yours will come when you least expect it. It will come to you like a serpent in the night and there is nothing, nothing you can do about it.”
The bailiff lead her out of the courtroom as everyone stared at her in silence, afraid to say a word in her passing.
Two weeks later, Kali walked up the thirteen steps to the gallows.The hangman put the noose around her neck and a black hood secured over her head. With a nod from the town alderman, the executioner pulled the lever sending her into eternity. With the whole town assembled to watch, not a single voice could be heard just the squeak of the trapdoor under her feet.
“Uncle Ben, was she really one of my ancestors?” Jason asked me before I left his room.
“Yes Jason.” I affirmed, “Her curse still haunts that town to this day.”
“What curse?” He asked wide-eyed.
“That all shall one day meet the Angel of Death be they innocent or guilty.” I chuckled, “All of the people that were at her trial are all resting in the church cemetery. They are all food for the worms. And to this day no one knows when their time will come, but one day it will.”
“Now, I’m going to have nightmares.” Jason groaned.
“Happy Halloween, buster.” I kiss him on the top of his head.
“Ben, you really shouldn’t tell those awful stories.” Patricia, my sister shook her head when I walked out of his room.
“I will talk to you later, sis.” I sighed, “Great time trick or treating.”
“I’m gonna call you, Ben if he wakes up with nightmares.” She said as a warning as I walked down the stairs.
“Why do you think I stay single.” I laugh.
“You tell that story well.” She is waiting for me near my car.
“Of course, you told me everything. Everything.” I open my car door while Kali Trabell leaves the safety of the ground to find her way back to the breeze she came in on. Her life, her legacy, and her curse will live on because of me. Always happy to do my part.