Previously: the priest has come to speak about witchcraft, Cecilia is reminded of her family shame
Cecilia’s grandmother had been born in England during a time of hardship. By the time she was six, she and her family sailed out on a boat called the Abigail, led by John Endecott. She was one of many passengers, with fifty or so people on board, but many died from sickness, leaving only around one half of the passengers remaining.
By the time the Abigail had docked, Cecilia’s grandmother had already been infected with smallpox, leaving her with horrible scarring. She and her family had set up a home, and she had grown up, her scars never fading. The other girls had been scared of her, but Cecilia hadn’t cared. She used to run home, crying because of the other girls’ taunts, and her grandmother would walk out to meet her, wrapping her up in a black shawl, and a hug. She would listen to Cecelia, her calloused hands always working away, either spinning or knitting or sewing. She had always been there for Cecelia, and then suddenly she..wasn’t. She had been accused by Ann, Betty, and Abigail of putting spells on them and ruining their fathers’ crop, and had been tried only three days later. Cecelia no longer had anything nor anyone to look forward to after her return home from school.
…….
A spray of orange flew out from under Cecelia’s shoe as she kicked a pile of fallen leaves. She and Holly were walking home, their heavy school bags weighing them down, the hot autumn air whipping their hair as they passed the small graveyard, turned by the church, and headed past rows of small farms. Holly left just at the neck of the woods, and Cecilia, sighing audibly, trudged on through the trees. After her father had died, her mother had not been able to keep their house, and a kind neighbor had helped them build a new one, tucked away between two large oak trees. It may be a house thought Cecelia glumly, but it sure isn’t a home.
