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Fiction Sad Drama

I’ve never seen a hotter summer than that one in 15 years. My clothes were clinging on with the sweat running down my face, back, and every single spot of my body that you can possibly think of. My clothes, all black, were not helping. The Grand Oak was the only source of shadow; however, no one wanted to stay under it because of the loop hanging down on one of its thick branches.

“Do you have any last wishes?” the Priest asked. The man sitting on the ground with his hands tied in the back said nothing.

“You killed two men. You stole. You brought disorder to the Land of the Lord. God will punish you in the other world, that’s for sure. Yet I’m here to do my job and pray to God to save your miserable soul. Even though there’s not much left to save…”

The Priest took out a napkin and wiped his forehead. The sun was melting down every moving object, so everyone wanted to get done with this and go home. The Priest made his prayer, but he didn’t seem to me that he really did want this man’s soul to be saved. When he was finished, he looked at me and shook his head. The soldiers made the sinner stand up and brought him to me. I put my black bag on his head. The Priest made some hand gestures. Just get on with it. Soldiers made him get onto the wooden step, and I put the rope around his neck. I kicked the step under his feet and pulled the rope with all my power. It was better done without thinking. It happened surprisingly quickly. His legs kicked the air a couple of times, I heard some choking sounds, and then everything stopped.

“Thank God, it’s over,” one of the soldiers said.

“Leave it where it is,” the Priest said to me, “It should set an example to all.”

I remember thinking, to who? The Grand Oak was outside the village, it was hotter than any summer I remembered, and before anyone got the chance to see the body, the crows would eat him out. I did what the Priest said, nevertheless.

Why, for the name of God, you may ask, did you become a hangman? I would say it pays well, and it only requires some muscle. It doesn’t really bother me, to be honest. People who are hanged are bad people, sinners, as the Priest calls them. The worst kinds. Rapers, murderers, people who would choke you in your sleep even if you were their friend. So, it doesn’t bother me to play the hand of God. However, some people settle in your mind, and no matter how hard you try, you just can’t forget about them. If your job is the same as mine, that’s not a good thing. I’ve always described myself as a tough person, a brave one, someone who’s indifferent to the realities of life. Anyone who knows me would say the same. However, in my last job, I figured that I wasn’t as tough as I thought.

Her name was Adeline. She was the prettiest girl in the village. Like everyone else, I secretly watched her go to the river with her basket of dirty clothes, her sleeves rolled up, little curls of her blonde hair fall on her face from her cap… She had a mother who was too old and sick to work. So, she worked in the church as a maid. She would wipe the floors, clean the windows, and help the Priest get ready for the ceremonies.

I was in the tavern that night when Howard Scovell stormed in. He sat on the chair and slammed his fist on the table.

“Give me sometin’ strong!”

The tavern keeper quickly put a drink on the table and sat right in front of him.

“What’s the matter, Scovell?”

Scovell took a big sip from his drink then slammed the cup so hard, some of the booze spilled on the table.

“It’s Adeline,” he said. His eyes were red, and he had a disgusted face on. He was one of those people who not just watched Adeline but was actually in love with her. Scovell would come into the tavern nearly every night and yell that he would marry Adeline one day. He opened his arm in the air and shouted.

“She’s a filthy sinner!”

Murmurs of disbelief filled the tavern.

“What are you talkin’ ‘bout?” said the tavernkeeper.

“I saw soldiers takin’ her. They say she tried to seduce the Priest and then tried to blame it on him!” Scovell said and bottomed his drink.

“Can you believe it?” He slammed his cup. “Oh, my blind eyes! I was fooled by her beauty! She was yelling like crazy when soldiers were taking her. She said the Priest was the guilty one!”

The murmurs in the tavern got louder. Scovell continued.

“She’s going to be hanged, I’m sure of it! They should burn her to get rid of her evil for good!”

The news struck me. That lovely girl committed a crime and tried to blame it on the Priest? You really can’t trust the looks. As the noise in the tavern grew louder, I got out and walked towards Adeline’s house. It is better to say that my feet carried me there; I wasn’t really thinking. In front of the house, her mother was begging the people surrounding her.

“My daughter would never do such a thing!”

The people were pushing her away from themselves, cursing her. She desperately went from one person to another.

“He’s lying! He was the one who tried to stain my daughter! She’s innocent!” she said in tears. The crowd surrounding her raged at this.

“How dare you say that about the Priest?”

People started hitting her, pushing her away from themselves.

“What a daughter you’ve raised!”

“How dare you call the Priest a liar?”

“You should be hanged too!”

With that last yell, the old woman lost herself. She started screaming, and she tumbled down. Someone from the crowd threw something onto her. Shouting and cursing got louder. I rushed into the crowd and tried to get to the middle. The old woman was lying there with blood running from her head. It was a rock that they threw. When I held the woman, the loud crowd went silent. Then the silence broke when a man yelled.

“What do you think you’re doin’?” Everyone agreed with him with one voice, and the loud voices raised from the crowd like a smoke cloud from a fire.

“She deserves to be punished! She called the Priest a liar!”

Someone made a move towards me to take the woman from my hands. When I raised my head and looked at him, he waddlingly backed away. My eyes must have been scary because when people looked into them, they took few steps back, and their voices went low. I helped the woman stand up.

“The girl will be punished if she’s guilty,” I said, “what do you want from this old woman? Go home!”

I walked the woman into her house. Some people tried to argue with me, but when I shut the door, the voices lowered. It was a tiny house. I helped her sat on the chair and asked where the water was. She looked at me. Her lips were slightly open, but no sound came out. She looked at me with her small, watery eyes, then closed them. I left her there and went to the kitchen. I dunked the cloth I found in the water basket, wrung the cloth, and went back. I gently cleaned the wound on her forehead, which was still bleeding. Her eyes were closed, but I could feel her weak breath on my face. Then she raised her hand and grasped my arm.

“She’s innocent,” she said, looking into my eyes. Tears fell from her face. “That Priest is lying; he was the one who was trying to take her. She refused him, that’s why he’s blaming her! My girl would never do such a thing! She’s innocent.”

I didn’t know if I believed her. It was the Priest’s word, against a mother’s. Of course, she would try to protect her daughter. But something inside me trembled.

“She is my only child. The only child I had, after six miscarriages,” she said. She was still holding my arm.

“I sing her songs, for better dreams,” she said, closing her eyes, “when she put her head on my knees.” She seemed tired. The wrinkles next to her eyes and her forehead seemed deeper than I remembered. Her voice filled the little house.

“Lully, lullay, thou little tiny child, bye-bye, lully, lullay…”

Her voice made me shiver. This seemed like it took it out of her. Her teary eyes were still closed, and she started crying again.

“Don’t tire yourself,” I said, then carried her to the bed. I was going to leave her there when she held my arm and whispered.

I don’t remember how I got out of the house. I don’t remember how the people I bumped on the road looked at me or how I got to my house. I don’t know for how long I was sitting on my bed when someone came banging on the door. The hard knockings pulled me away, so I stood up and opened the door. The Priest rushed into my house. I haven’t seen him so pale before. The circles under his eyes were darkened, and his lips were white from pressing them together. I saluted him.

“Welcome, fath-”

“She’s going to be hanged first thing in the morning,” he said, interrupting me.

“What about her trial?”

“I made her a trial,” he raised his voice impatiently, “she has been found guilty in the eyes of our Lord. She’s going to be hanged with the first lights of the day. Do you understand?”

“Yes, father.”

“Good, we have to get to get rid of this sinner at once,” he said, and he stormed out. I stood there, for I don’t know how long, with my hands on my sides. There cannot be one truth since what you believe is true is the truth for you, and it may change for everyone. I knew my truth when the Priest left, and I felt confident of it. I put on my coat.

***

“I’m here to take the prisoner to the tree,” I said to the soldiers standing in front of the dungeons. “It’s the Priest’s orders,” I added. With this, the younger soldier opened the gates and started walking in front of me. Inside was humid and smelled of hay. Few other prisoners were waiting for their trials, but the soldier knew exactly which prisoner I was talking about. I saw Adeline when we stopped in front of her cell. She was on the corner, legs pulled up to herself, arms hugging her legs like a child. When the soldier put the key in the keyhole, she raised her head. Her beautiful face was red from crying. She stood up and rushed to us.

“Am I being freed? O, dear sir! Am I going home?”

The soldier didn’t answer her, neither did I. He held her arms and tied them on the back. She tried to resist and looked at my face like she waited for me to help. I didn’t dare to look at her eyes. I held the soldier’s arm and stopped them before we got out.

“I need to put this on her,” I said, showing the black bag. He took a step back and got away from Adeline like he wanted to be far away from the bag as much as possible. Adeline looked at me.

“Why are you putting that on me? Don’t do this, please!” She started crying and tried to run, but the soldier grasped her.

“Stay where you are,” he commanded, and I put the black bag on her head as she cried. As her blonde curls disappeared into the dark bag, I whispered:

“I’m sorry.” But I doubt neither of them heard me.

***

“Our Lord is the one who sees all the sins and punishes them! Now we see a sinner, a wicked woman, who tried to insult the messenger of God!”

Disgusted murmurs arose from the crowd. The Priest continued.

“Insulting me is insulting our Lord! She must be punished for what she has done!”

The crowd started yelling. The Priest looked at me and made a gesture with his head. The loud noises came to my ear like there were a thousand bees in the hive, buzzing, ready to sting me. I gently held the woman’s arm, and she took the steps with my help. There were darker stains on the black bag I put on her head, where her tears wet. I put the rope around her and whispered, this time making sure she hears me.

“I’m sorry.”

The Priest looked impatiently at me. He swept his forehead with his handkerchief. He was sweating, even though we were in December. I admit, sometimes, when they bring someone to me who committed an unspeakable crime like killing a child, I make sure it does not end easy for them. I make them suffer; I make sure they fight for the last breath they might be able to take. I feel like I’m doing my part as the hand of the Lord to punish those people. However, this time, as soon as I kicked the wooden step under her feet, I pulled the rope with all the power I had. I didn’t want her to suffer, not even for a second. I believe I succeeded. Because her feet didn’t move, and not a sound came from her. The crowd and the Priest stayed silent for a second; they waited for the rest of the show. They seemed…disappointed. The Priest took a deep breath.

“May our Lord help us take an example from this, and pray him, so he washes away our sins.”

The crowd said amen to that, and then they started going home. The Priest came near me, wiping his forehead.

“Well done, son,” he patted my arm, “get rid of this at once,” he said and then left. I stood there until everyone was gone. Alone, with the body, I just hung on the tree. The Grand Oak had no leaves in this season, and it seemed to me that it suited my feelings. I lowered the woman from the tree and laid her near the roots. I had one more thing to do.

***

I took out the black bag. The old woman’s eyes were closed, and there were salty stains where her tears dried. The lines on her face were indeed deeper this time like she had aged a thousand years. Adeline looked at me, then looked at her mother. She shrieked, then closed her mouth with her hands and fell onto her knees. She touched her mother’s face as she sobbed. Her tears fell down on the old woman. She put her head on her chest, held her hands, and wept. I stood there, trying not to look at them, but I couldn’t help.

“I’m sorry,” my voice cracked, “she wanted you to live.”

Adeline didn’t answer nor looked at me. She kept crying, caressing her mother’s hair. When her sobbing turned into soft cries, she raised her mother’s head and put it on her knees.

“I want to take her place,” had said the old woman while tightened her grip on my arm. I couldn’t understand what she was talking about.

“Please,” she had wept, “I want to take her place. Take me, and leave her be. She has a long life. Please take me instead.”

My eyes had opened wide, and I had frozen. I had wanted to take my arm back and get out of the house, but I couldn’t move. She had reached to the back of her bed and pulled out a little sack. She had shown me the two silvers in her palm that she had taken out.

“This is,” she had said, “is all I have. I beg you, dear child, for the love of our dear Lord, take these, and take me. Please let her live.”

 I knew then, God knows how, that she was telling the truth. A man is made up of his choices. When I accepted the old woman’s request and secretly took Adeline to my house and replaced the old woman with Adeline, I was sure I made the right choice. But looking at Adeline, I wasn’t so sure. The poor young girl thought I saved her, but she didn’t expect anything like this. She raised her head and looked at me. Her eyes shined like two pieces of emerald.

“What did she say to you?”

“She said you were innocent, and you had a long life to live. She didn’t hesitate, not even for a moment.”

Adeline shook her head.

“I wish she hadn’t,” she burst into tears again. “She sang to me when I couldn’t sleep,” she said, caressing her mother’s hair. “She sang to me until I slept.” The Grand Oak was standing like a shield behind her. “Now I’ll sing to you, mama,” she said, and her voice echoed between every single branch of the tree and made me shiver.

“That woe is me, poor child, for thee

And ever mourn and may

For thy parting neither say nor sing,

Bye-bye, lully, lullay.”

“Sweet dreams, mama.”

We buried the old woman with no ceremony somewhere away from the Grand Oak. Adeline left the village that day, and I didn’t see her ever again.

I quit my job afterward. And I know for sure, if I ever go near the Grand Oak again, it would be to hang no one but myself. 

April 23, 2021 10:41

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