The Stoning of Emmiko Blaine

She had done everything in her power to protect them. She had endured the taunting, the scowls, and even the unbearable loneliness, yet they would not leave well enough alone. She imagined it would come to this. 

Emmiko was not sure why some were affected and others were left unharmed. The first time it happened she had been a toddler, playing in the front yard, as a stranger passed by her father’s small house on the outskirts of town. The man had stopped, resting his hands on the broken gate, and when she looked up at him, he turned to stone. His image remained, as he was as a man, but now as solid rock. Her father had shouted at him from the doorway, “Get away, sir! Don’t look at the girl!” But it all happened too quickly. It frightened Emmiko. And even as her father wept with frustration and terror, cursing his child’s deadly beauty, she didn't know she was the cause. That realization came later.

It happened twice more. A girl and her mother on their way to the market passed by as Emmiko stood in the doorway. When a pitcher of milk accidentally slipped from her hands, they looked in her direction and were immediately transfixed where they stood on the dirt road, forever preserved in stone. Later, a priest, suspicious of foul goings-on, came to her father’s home. His arms were laden with an array of superstitious paraphernalia. A rope of lumpy cloves of garlic swung from his neck. He pounded on the door demanding entry. Emmiko was standing at the kitchen table, clutching the corner with fear, when he went to the back of the house. His eyes met Emmiko's through the window. In an instant the man hardened into lifeless, gray stone.

After each awful incident, Emmiko’s father dragged the statues through the cluster of pine trees, down to the bank, and let them roll to their final resting place in the murky water. Shortly after the incident with the priest, her father found a seamstress in town and had her make a veil; green, with white lace to cover her eyes. He brought it home to his girl and, Emmiko, terrified of bringing harm to her fellow townspeople, wore it faithfully. Even in sleep she kept it fixed over her head.

As Emmiko grew into a young woman she stayed away from town as much as possible. She was afraid for the townspeople and afraid for herself. She did not want to hurt anyone. But as the town grew, it became increasingly difficult to avoid others. Houses were built nearer and nearer. Nearly every day, someone would pass their small house by the lake.

There were rumors and whisperings, of course. The bodies of the others who had turned to stone had never been found. The townspeople sensed something was amiss, and that it somehow connected to the strange girl who refused to show her face.

The days Emmiko ventured into town for supplies were miserable. She kept the veil fastened tight, but there was always a group of horrid children who would throw clumps of hardened mud at her and dare each other to snatch the veil from her head.

“Here comes the monster!” The shout would always go up as she approached.

“So hideous that she hides behind a curtain on her head!”

They chanted cruel rhymes and laughed and pointed as she passed. She would go about her business, then walk home swiftly, praying nothing disastrous would happen.

The adults were just as horrid. They didn’t shout things at her, but drew their children in close and eyed her narrowly as she passed. They didn’t know why she wore the veil.

Only one person in town showed kindness toward Emmiko. Mr Addison Towsley had lost an arm in the Great War and his face was scarred from shrapnel. He, too, was taunted and stared at by the children. The adults were civil, yet avoided him. They found him uncomfortable to be around. But whenever Emmiko passed by Addison Towsley would smile and tip his hat, and when the children would taunt her, he threatened to have them whipped. Emmiko wished he could see her smiling at his kindness. Several times she found arrangements of wildflowers on her doorstep, the stems tied with string, and knew they were from Addison.

It was a hot summer day in August, and despite stern warnings from their parents, Sam and Doyle Partridge were playing at the water’s edge near the home of the Blaines. Emmiko was sitting in her rocking chair near the window, unaware of them. It was so unbearably hot that she was tempted to take off the veil, but could not bring herself to do it, even for a moment. Her eyes stung from salty drops of sweat trickling from her forehead. She sat close to the window, gently tugging at the ends of the veil in waves, circulating the warm air underneath. Suddenly, the air was pierced with screams. Anybody within two miles heard them. Without thought, Emmiko and her father, who had been napping at the table, sprung up and rushed out the back door. Running as fast as they could through the cluster of pines they found a crowd already gathering at the water’s edge. Emmiko’s father staggered and grabbed hold of his daughter’s arm.

“They’ve found them,” he whispered. He shuddered, then quickly headed back to the house with large strides. Emmiko followed, kicking at her long skirts, trying to keep up. “We must pack, and quickly!” he said.

Once through the door, her father haphazardly pulled belongings from cupboards and drawers. He piled them onto open blankets, then tied the ends into bundles.

“I don’t understand, Father. What did they find?” 

Her father stopped his frantic movements. Dropping his hands to his sides, he slumped into his chair at the table.

“I had to hide them somewhere. Of course we’ll be blamed.” His head fell into his hands. “How will I move again? The same thing happened years ago with your mother. They looked at her and turned to stone. They finally hanged her. We left that place and I brought you here. I don’t know what else I could have done…” his words trailed off. He lifted his head, gazing toward the window. “I hear them coming.”

Emmiko stepped aside just as the door flung open. Mass confusion reigned. Men shouted and pointed. Women cried; some shrieked. Children curiously peeped through the windows watching the drama unfold.

“She’s a witch!” one woman screamed.

Emmiko clutched her veil and stumbled toward her father. 

“She wears that veil to hide behind her killings!” said another.

“What did you do to them?!” a large man shouted furiously. He charged toward her, pointing his beefy finger inches from Emmiko’s veiled cheek.

Her father raised a weary hand to speak. “I don’t know why it happens. She is very beautiful. It causes some to turn-”

His words were cut short as his forehead was split open from a heavy bronze candlestick which someone had thrown. Emmiko's father feebly lifted his hand to the ugly wound.

“Don’t utter a single word, Timothy Blaine!” Sam Partridge’s father bellowed at the injured man. "You’ve spawned a witch, you have!”

Young Sam began to cry. “I don’t want to live in a town with a witch, father. She’s going to kill us all!”

Emmiko stumbled forward to aid her father, but was grabbed by two men who worked at the town courthouse.

“You folk have been tolerated long enough," one said. "You were allowed to lived among us in peace despite your strange behavior. And look what it’s brought us!”

“Hang her!” Someone shouted. “Bring her to the gallows! Let the sorceress swing!”

A mighty roar of approval came up from the crowd. Emmiko was dragged from her home and down the dusty road. She tried to speak; none could hear her over the shouts and accusations. The crowd grew as they neared the center of town. Each newcomer added their own stories they had heard.

Addison Towsley saw the mob through the window of the general store. Recognizing the green veil he dropped the jar he was holding and rushed out.

“What’s happening, here?” Addison could not get a clear answer from those around him. “Leave her be!” he shouted, but was ignored. Addison could only follow and watch as the mob swelled, writhing with anger as they neared the gallows.

A short man in a tophat ran ahead of the group, climbing the stairs of the platform to ready the rope. A black executioner’s hood was produced and a tall man pulled it over his head as he, too, mounted the wooden steps. Emmiko yanked to free herself, but it was futile. She was dragged roughly up to the platform. Through the lace covering her eyes, she beheld the town. Their angry faces and indignant voices were screaming for justice.

Her father had been dragged into town as well, and was being held tightly between two men at the back of the crowd. Tears were streaming down his face. Addison Towsley stood near the front, pleading with anyone who would listen.

“What is her crime? She’s a kind, sweet girl!” he yelled. He was knocked to the ground. Pulling himself back up, he continued to protest in vain.

The children began chanting a familiar rhyme.

Ugly woman with the veil

Crooked teeth and skin like scales

It’s no wonder that you hide

You’re so ugly, stay inside!

Some of the adults laughed; most were fixed on the task at hand.

One of her captors began looping the noose around her neck but stopped when a woman's voice rang out. “Take off her veil!" the woman cried. "She's made us suffer. Now we'll watch the monster suffer! Don’t let her hide behind her veil!" 

The crowd was pleased with the suggestion and began demanding the veil be removed.

“No!” shouted Addison. “Let her go! You cannot judge and execute her this way!”

“Yes,” Emmiko’s father whispered under his breath, “take off her veil.”

The executioner seemed reluctant. “Take it off,” he commanded Emmiko, releasing her arms.

Emmiko looked out over the sea of her tormentors. She lifted her fingers to the edges of the silky green material. She hesitated when she spotted Addison near the platform.

The mob, furious with her reluctance, howled. Some began throwing stones.

The executioner, after being pelted several times, grabbed Emmiko forcefully and wrestled the veil from her head. The crowd roared their approval. Emmiko was knocked to the ground as the veil was pulled free. She blinked down at the faded wood of the platform, and then at her rich, dark hair spilling over her shoulders. Despite the chaos and noise, almost dreamlike, she was struck at how clearly she could see and how fresh the air felt against her skin.

The crowd became tensely silent.

“Stand and face us, ugly witch!” someone yelled.

The executioner grabbed her hair, yanking her to her feet to face the gaping crowd. A collective gasp was heard as she lifted her exquisite eyes to meet those staring back at her.

One by one, they turned to stone. Their legs, bodies and arms went rigid. Their faces, seconds earlier twisted in rage, were now transfixed forever with expressions of stunned revelation. They would stand forever before the platform as tributes, their hard gray, lifeless bodies as emblems of what was in their hearts.

The executioner stared out with confusion as the crowd transformed before his eyes. He was then, himself, forever frozen in place when he turned and beheld Emmiko’s great beauty.

Only two within the crowd were unaffected.

Emmiko’s father and Addison Towsley rushed to her aid. 

Timothy Blaine and his daughter sought out a new, quiet place to make their home. Addison followed in hopes of making Emmiko his wife.

The veil was left at the gallows.