The Wrong Witch

If you look closely at the map, smack in the middle of the US of A, there's a small town. It's called Garrow, and it's so small, it only has 10 buildings. The main hall, the school, and eight houses, not counting Kathy Nickerson's cottage on the edge of the woods.

In the house next to the main hall, there was the house of Henry Rickson. Henry Rickson was the judge. And Henry Rickson didn't trust Patty Okven and Marinda Quaine.

Patty Okven and Marinda Quaine lived in a cottage at the edge of Garrow. It was a small, one-story cottage, with curtains separating it into four rooms.

But Henry Rickson didn't only not trust them. Henry Rickson thought they were witches. He had heard about the Salem Witch Trials, and he just knew that Patty and Marinda had to be witches. And according to him, he had a very good reason.

Patty and Marinda sold herbs and medicine. Her concoctions worked just as well as Doctor Xavier's expensive ones. And Henry had made a deal with Doctor Xavier. Doctor Xavier's medicines would give him free medicine if Henry kept Xavier in business.

And the only threat was Patty and Marinda. So Henry had to take them out. And he had a very good idea of how to take them out in style.

So now, Henry Rickson was standing on the front door of the cottage.

Now, you might wonder what he's doing there, but if you listen, you'll understand.

"They're Witches! An abomination! Why do ya think their stuff works? It's magic! It's their magic! We gotta flush out the pests! Get them out of here! C'mon!"

Bobby, the strongest and biggest guy in town, shoved the door open, and the villagers swarmed inside. They tore down the curtains, shattered the empty bottles, and spilled the boiling bone soup in the cauldron.

Now, if we backtrack a little and wonder how Henry got those townspeople on his side in the first place, you'll find it hard to believe. 

You see, Henry's Great-Great-Great-Great, a million times Great Grandfather founded the town. And that million times Great Grandfather was a kind, honest, loyal person. And everyone loved him. So they already had a connection to Henry. Also, Henry never showed his shady parts to the town, so everyone thought that he was also kind, honest, and loyal.

But Henry was a snake. His words were slippery, and his lies even more so. He spun delicate traps, so perfect, you didn't even know it was a trap until he wanted you to know. And the townspeople had fallen right into his trap.

But back to the story.

Patty and Marinda desperately tried to stop them. "It's madness!" Patty screeches. "We're as much of a witch as you!"

"Ummm, Patty. I don't think that that is helping. It's making them even madder!"

"Whatever, just keep 'em away from it." Patty goes back to screaming as Marinda hurriedly,  shuffles to the attic, her wooden leg clanking on the floor.

But Henry sees her, and he darts forward, snapping her neck. No one sees through their focus on destruction. No one hears through the scream and shouts and yells. No one even notices.

"Now, let's see what's up there that is so immensely interesting. . ."

Henry glides up the ladder and into the attic. And he doesn't come out.

When the chaos ends, no one can find Henry.

Finally, a child speaks up. "He went into the attic. I dunno what he wath doing, but I thaw him goin' in."

They lift the attic door open, and Henry Rickson stumbles out, his eyes wide, his hair a rat's nest. "We gotta-pant-do it-pant-quick-pant. They got-pant-stuff-pant-and-"

Bobby Fernson starts to go into the attic. "NO!" Henry screams. "Don't go in-pant. I-I barely survived it. It was horrible. It was crazy. I'm never seeing it again. Never. And I'm keeping you inside so ya never have to see it."

Of course, this is all an act. Really, there was nothing in the attic. But if they wanted to keep something in the attic safe, it had to be important.

Now, they stand in court. Patty is tied to a chair, Marinda's dead body is on the floor next to Patty. Patty stares at Marinda. "No." she breathes. "No, no, no, no, no, no." she takes a deep breath. "NO!"

Someone stuffs a gag in her mouth. She thrashes like a wild animal.

"Patty Okven and Marinda Quaine. You are hereby accused of witchcraft. The accuser is the town of Garrow. You are to be burned at stake in exactly 12 minutes, at 12:00." Henry Rickson says,

"Everyone in Garrow supports this!" someone else calls out. There are murmurs of agreement.

One girl in pigtails pipes up. "What's Garrow?" Her mom shushes her.

The clock ticks.

11 minutes.

10 minutes.

9 minutes.

The townspeople are getting antsy, as they shift from foot to foot.

8 minutes.

7 minutes.

6 minutes.

5 minutes.

4 minutes.

3 minutes.

2 minutes.

1 minute.

Someone hauls Patty and Marinda to the stake. They tie them down.

30 seconds.

They light the torch.

The clock's bells crash together as they light the fire. It consumes the stake. And the woman burn.

They see them slowly crumple to the ground. They see the bodies fold into themselves. They watch them turn to ash.

But what they don't see is her, standing on the edge of the town. They don't see how a dark substance spills out of one hand. Or the light substance that emits from the other. Or how they twine together to create two blobs that are shaped like bodies.

Or when she whispers. "You will never kill me and my friends."

Or how she walks away, with the two women behind her.

The two women that were just on a stake, burning alive.

The two women that aren't witches.

And the one woman that is.

The one they never noticed.

The true witch.

Kathy Nickerson.