H C Turk, page 38
Captured by conviction, I remained until the vividness was reduced from reality to recollection. In this state, I was passively delivered with unsought memories of every aspect of my living with sinners, all their social and material and falsely familial constructs. Remembrance came so quickly that I was astonished in a changing array, astonished at Elsie and the genuine love we had shared-and, yes, continued to share, for
I yet loved this woman, enough to weep for her had I been a sinner. Being as human as any, my emotion was the same, even in the next moment when I recalled Elsie's smell, the terrible odor of sinners. Further thoughts of London immediately followed: Rathel's distressed romance and her ultimate goal: for me to kill the Eric boy. And I nearly laughed to recall Eric, for whereas Elsie was the most beloved person in that world, Eric was the most entertaining. I then recalled in renewed astonishment the change he had elicited within me that made my living lighter: his profound impression that after I died, had not God so made love a part of His human world that my love would continue, even as I loved Mother although her body was gone?
I was delivered from this reverie of remembrance by its initiating emotion: boredom. Thoughts of my current home's simple living returned me there. Never during the winter controlling us completely had we reasonably feared dying; whereas each day in London was a challenge to survive. Surely this strife was the source of my entering contests with Marybelle seemingly against her. In London, had I not been presented with the constant challenge of continued living against Rathel and her society? Unkind the devil was to have me even obliquely compare Marybelle and the enemy, Rathel. Thank God for His following revelation, that my witches-in-the-wOds self-contests were akin to the gamelike confrontations I had so often undertaken with Miss Elsie.
I was then astonished by my greatest games in London: my trials to achieve the survival of escape. Pawnbrokers and criminals and coachmen. Here were recollections of fear, and I was astounded by the reckless acts I had willfully entered. Less astounding was my having killed a man, for therein I had been unwilling and ignorant. From this death I was more sorrowful than repentant, for God or His chief devil seemed the cause more than this misused witch. Finally I could only pray God for His greater way of kindness to be done in my world and in Satan's.
The latter's realm remained in my thinking, for certain aspects of the sinners were yet desirable though their living was unnatural. How often had any witch astounded me with religious revelation as had Eric? Could the sinners be completely decrepit if Elsie were a member, a friend as loyal and loving as any sister? And though most sinning productions were wasteful, had not great cathedrals moved me? Was not our hut the same as any sinners' dwelling in sheltering its residents? Were not sinners also human?
Eventually these impressions left, my tangible state again becoming foremost. And reasonably so, for whereas London's torments were more influential than its satisfactions, my current world held no danger, the boredom of this land next impressing me as a mildness to satisfy in a Godly manner. How could I not well love a land that so kindly kept me? Like a mother.
No more powerful sense of return to London had I in the wilds than those impressions engendered by boredom and a smell. Occasionally thereafter I returned to that stagnant water, though never was the evocation so intense as the first. With no intent, however, I often recalled the sinners' great city, and often felt boredom in my latest realm. But I had learned to respond to that boredom with a sensible appreciation of my moderate life.
In this manner the months proceeded. To alleviate my tedium, I initiated a hobby: seeking each type of mobile creature in the domain by walking circularly around the hovel-manse, first cataloging die largest variety: rarely-seen small bears I notated via droppings and lairs in caves Marybelle and I had not previously found-and would not be living in now, considering those unsharing inhabitants. Besides, we had a cave. But friendly I would remain with these furry bear beasts, since we were so similar as to share sleeping habits, perhaps along with elephants.
The second-largest creature was a type of lynx cat, like our own from Man's Isle, and therefore happily reminiscent. This beast I appreciated less upon learning it ate lizards. Smaller yet were two varieties of fox that hid in dead trees, and a type of marmot residing in burrows. None of these animals had interest in me, avoiding the witch even after my smell and demeanor proved me harmless. No Randolph were they. Perhaps the same as London, I would be appreciated more after I was gone, and the beasts became bored with their dull life without me.
London.
Soon I lost the fine spirits I held in this enterprise, for upon discovering a third variety of squirrel, a black moth flitted by of a type not observed before. The remainder of the day I thus sought only moths. Despair set in shortly, for of the countless moths seen, the different types seemed as numerous as the individual members of any breed-what then of flies and half-eaten lizards?
But never did I find a monkey.
Marybelle had no similar activity, being so fine as to enjoy her safe life painlessly. Not painless was mine after endless moths turned my hobby into a chore, into another contest I would certainly lose; for how many decades would I need to discover the final animal when each day a new bird was observed, though weeks ago I had proceeded to toads? And, no, this self-inflicted hobby had nothing to do with my surviving in London by becoming aware of coachmen and clergy and constables. The possible truth I next considered hardly relieved my anxiety. I came to believe that neither boredom nor my retrieved past was the cause of these contests, but a curse from Satan for my not killing enough sinners when he had given me opportunity.
With this response, the understanding of my past most likely to come seemed madness-and thank you, Satan, for your latest enlightenment. To encourage my own survival of mind, I thus abandoned my animalistic hobby while I yet had the abilities to count and account for, and what a relief not to have reached ants.
This relief, unfortunately, came too early in the year, for I retained my hobby until early autumn. Therefore, the greater part of a season lay for me to pass before winter brought its suffering. And come winter did, with more intensity than the former. Again we became like bears, but before sleeping we suffered, for not even witches can comfortably accept a cold to paralyze furred creatures. All our clothing we donned, including shoes and pantaloons. Lying together in our mutual bed, my belly against Marybelle's back, painful shivering struck completely through us. And though I longed for spring and the warmth of new life, not in the least did I desire London, not even the Rathel's house with its superior warmth. The only removal from this cold I craved was a season of heat. But first came sleep and with it comfort.
Soon after Marybelle and I awoke the following spring, I determined to love the present season and avoid both old and new anxieties. I thus pursued no further hobbies. Sinners and their cities were not my concern. The same as Marybelle, I proceeded with full appreciation of our common living. Then came summer, and another stench to change my life.
Early in the season came a tremendous passing of birds, a type of kite with abbreviated tail, the flock so massive as to inhibit sunlight like a cloud. Though the fascinated witches denoted no untoward occurrence, the white one had further curiosity of this natural passage.
"The previous year we were present in this land, Marybelle, yet no such passage was seen."
"And before that we doubtless missed their return."
"I beg pardon, miss, but I fail to glean your meaning."
"For birds to go one way now means their later returning. But the cycle may not be a year, but two or three. Perhaps they returned at a time before our arrival below them."
"Know ye of other animal cycles so lengthy?"
"In nature's whole, more than creatures are of a cycle. Winds high and low can come each year or once a lifetime. The sun does things difficult to sense but every decade or more. Certain animals find the need to mate but once in their life, or once young and again before dying."
"If recollection supports my knowledge correctly, thrice in my life on Man's Isle were tides of equal intervals so low as to expand beaches."
"Yes," she replied.
"Furthermore, is not my recollection accurate of a crab with long legs seen only with these tides?"
"Oft the things come not alone, but engender other parts of nature toward their own cycles."
"Might we then expect a companion effect with this massed flying, perhaps tornadoes or hail-or an influx of giraffes into our land? Oh, please, miss. No more delightful sight could I imagine than scores of giraffes descending from the mountains."
" 'Giraffes'?" Marybelle retorted. "Be this something the sinners make? Expect ye metalwork or furniture to be coming our way?"
With a delight equal to my having seen the wonderful creatures, I explained giraffes-and elephants also. Marybelle at first considered my speaking mere humor, but the monkeys I also mentioned were beasts she had sensed before. I therefore proceeded in a wondrous but accurate manner to describe my every sight and smell of the* animals, pleased Marybelle becoming most interested. Not mentioned, however, were auxiliary facts: about viewing the creatures with a sinner boy and being ravaged by their trainer, about naming my personal semi-killers after these animals, this an insult for which I would doubtless never redeem myself in the eyes of God.
Though assured by Marybelle that no such exotic beasts would be seen flocking to England, the imagining was nevertheless so fine that oft I literally looked beyond in a game of seeing giraffes and elephants come quietly approaching. On a hill one day to search for mushrooms that never grew low, I sensed a strong, hot breeze from along the mountains' lay. With this wind came an odor I thought at first to be of giraffes, so odd and old it was, though known. With more thought, however, I found it unpleasant, therefore not belonging to these favorite creatures, but more akin to . . . stagnant water. Comprehension of this identifying scent then returned, for even diluted by distance and mixed with intervening odors, the smell of sinners was recognized.
Long enough I remained high to return with an assured story for Marybelle, who thereafter climbed the hill with me. Thereupon she worked her nose and lungs only to unfortunately agree.
"Do you find their distance significant, Marybelle?"
"Not great enough to make us fearless."
"But the smell I find static, and not of a moving herd."
"No better is this, for the smell is not of simple human animals, but sinners' products. We smell an establishment, not a pack. This scent I fear to be of a village," Marybelle determined.
"Not smelled before, I presume, because of this extra-seasonable wind come to frighten us. Nevertheless, the intervening distance should not currently distress us."
"Not now, but as any plague, a sinners' village spreads and devours nature before it."
"What then might be our active response to this unpleasant knowledge?"
"Worry little and remain alert."
"And if the plague of sinners infests our domain?"
"Move if we can away and deeper into this land."
"And live thereafter on the bog? Rather would I be taken by sinners," I retorted.
"Not into the bog, but to the far side, beyond our current sensing."
"The direction I mentioned when this one was chosen instead. Praise God we did not proceed that way, for surely we would now be standing in a major city."
"Doubtful," Marybelle replied.
Guided by good sense, Marybelle and I remained cognizant of the sinning smell without becoming so concerned as to modify our lives. Never did the older witch need to climb high ground to denote the sinners' state, for her curious sister kept vigil, finding herself perhaps too often on that hill. Marybelle did not bother to inquire of these observations, aware that I would describe any significant changes in the sinning situation. And silent I remained because the sinners retained their position, allowing us to retain our land.
During that summer, I developed the notion of insufficient concern. What sinners were we concerned with? I wondered. How were we to understand the potential problem beyond when our knowledge of same was diluted by distance? Would we witches not improve our defense by learning more of the specific sinners, their number and potential approach? To do so, some sister would have to near that smell, and what was dangerous about a walk in warm weather?
Naught of this idea I mentioned to Marybelle, preferring not to display my overconcern and thereby fail another unintended contest. Nevertheless, to prepare for dreadful circumstance, I examined my sinning apparel without my sister's notice. My brown woollen dress approached shabbiness with its shredded ends and translucent areas where the witch had rubbed her environ. Apparently new, however, was my medium-blue gown of a cut not so stylish as to stop the River Thames. But had I grown so massive that the item would no longer fit? What value the apparel in coming winters if I could not pull it over my form? But fit me it did, though tightly. No shawl had I, and no jacket for my torso, so how much of the lady was I? A cloak and hat, however, I had retained, adequate for societies shy of London's. Since at the time I lived in God's society, I undressed with the knowledge that if need be, I again could pass amongst sinners without their presuming me the witch.
After days of believing that increased knowledge of the sinners would benefit us witches, my moral sense revealed additional emotion, for desire was included, the need to understand what value I yet found in the sinners and their manufactured lives. For days, this self-comprehension satisfied me as a mark of my becoming more ethical in God's moral world. As though an expert in understanding, however, I gained even greater comprehension, though it seemed detrimental to my ethics. My desire to find a proper place with the sinners by understanding the past and predicting the future was not only moral education, but an attempt to justify my acceptance of certain sinning values. Therefore, I dealt not with mores, but lust. My attraction to sinners was like Londoners and their liquor, which
made them fine yet made them mad, and eventually could kill. As though drunk myself, I had only to decide if I were insane enough to approach the sinners, or witch enough to remain apart. Before mentioning my passion to Marybelle, the sinning witch had decided.
"Despite my lack of objectivity, Marybelle, I confess that I fear the sinners, their potential and proximity."
"I also, but little."
"My belief is that our fears would be alleviated by our learning more of this nearby populace."
"True, so tell me news when you smell it, in that often you are high."
"Since I am also distant from these people, my suggestion is to approach them to learn more with better smelling, perhaps with sight."
"Being no fool, I'll not go to sinners who would kill me."
"I would offer myself for this venture, Marybelle. Since I resemble these folk, my appearance would not draw them."
"The white witch draws them with her smell."
"Only when near to the touch, and I would remain at distant sight."
"What if you are espied yourself and followed here?"
"I would run."
"Not from horses."
"Horses I would smell before their riders could observe me. I would remain beyond sight if horses be present."
"The value is not enough for the risk," Marybelle insisted, "not if you are followed here and our home and ourselves be destroyed."
"Approaching so near as to allow following would in fact be foolish. Being no fool, I would remain well removed."
"If sense you do have, you remain away until they present danger."
"We wait, then, for the sinners to attack us?"
"We wait for them to leave their setdement and near us."
"But we would be too late if mounted hunters discover us hated witches."
"If men come with horses and metal weapons, we will not be able to flee enough. Even sinners can move through a bog. We would have to hide away, perhaps bury ourselves a time."
"But if we were sufficiendy removed, we would have no necessity to disrupt our lives."
"Much farther and we have no good food."
"Farther, Marybelle, and we have no need to retreat because we would be well separated from the sinners. And if we had knowledge of them beyond our current ignorance, we would not require such endless speech."
"I travel to no sinners for the sake of fear's fantasy. And neither do you unless you have a craving of their ways."
"I have no craving for sinners, in that most of their ways I find offensive."
"And the remaining ways which offend you not? Do these draw desire from you?" *
"Your question is the very fantastical fear you mentioned, Marybelle. The craving I have regarding sinners is to know what they would do against me before they begin. The craving I have is to be neither killed nor vanquished from my home. Surely you have the same intent in living."
"Surely you intend to hie toward the sinners despite any of my speaking."
"Since you have convinced me of the value, Marybelle, I leave tomorrow."
"You go alone, girl, and go more of a liar than a fool," Marybelle declared. "Your words were given with care, but you smell of desire. The sinners have something you would have or would seek, and I will be no part of your finding it. Go if you must, but justify it not with our safety, but fault the devil for your lust. You go without true concern for my speaking, but you will never be so fine with words as to have me agree. Sinners dupe one another with speeches, but they do not hoax witches with words. I am the witch and remain the witch-what person are ye?"
With all our firm words, we parted without a spoken decision. And though I felt Marybelle was not too displeased, mainly I hoped that she was not disappointed in me, disappointed in her sister.
Twenty-five
The walking was easy, despite the burden of a new possession. The morning I departed-Marybelle out in the land and out of my sight-I found a defense against sinners left as I slept. In my bag was a Bible, a magic notion to protect me, since no witch would carry a Bible. Marybelle thereby revealed her concern, for I would have no need for the sinners' talisman unless they detected me, and thus she expected me to approach too near for a witch, near enough fot a fool.
I yet loved this woman, enough to weep for her had I been a sinner. Being as human as any, my emotion was the same, even in the next moment when I recalled Elsie's smell, the terrible odor of sinners. Further thoughts of London immediately followed: Rathel's distressed romance and her ultimate goal: for me to kill the Eric boy. And I nearly laughed to recall Eric, for whereas Elsie was the most beloved person in that world, Eric was the most entertaining. I then recalled in renewed astonishment the change he had elicited within me that made my living lighter: his profound impression that after I died, had not God so made love a part of His human world that my love would continue, even as I loved Mother although her body was gone?
I was delivered from this reverie of remembrance by its initiating emotion: boredom. Thoughts of my current home's simple living returned me there. Never during the winter controlling us completely had we reasonably feared dying; whereas each day in London was a challenge to survive. Surely this strife was the source of my entering contests with Marybelle seemingly against her. In London, had I not been presented with the constant challenge of continued living against Rathel and her society? Unkind the devil was to have me even obliquely compare Marybelle and the enemy, Rathel. Thank God for His following revelation, that my witches-in-the-wOds self-contests were akin to the gamelike confrontations I had so often undertaken with Miss Elsie.
I was then astonished by my greatest games in London: my trials to achieve the survival of escape. Pawnbrokers and criminals and coachmen. Here were recollections of fear, and I was astounded by the reckless acts I had willfully entered. Less astounding was my having killed a man, for therein I had been unwilling and ignorant. From this death I was more sorrowful than repentant, for God or His chief devil seemed the cause more than this misused witch. Finally I could only pray God for His greater way of kindness to be done in my world and in Satan's.
The latter's realm remained in my thinking, for certain aspects of the sinners were yet desirable though their living was unnatural. How often had any witch astounded me with religious revelation as had Eric? Could the sinners be completely decrepit if Elsie were a member, a friend as loyal and loving as any sister? And though most sinning productions were wasteful, had not great cathedrals moved me? Was not our hut the same as any sinners' dwelling in sheltering its residents? Were not sinners also human?
Eventually these impressions left, my tangible state again becoming foremost. And reasonably so, for whereas London's torments were more influential than its satisfactions, my current world held no danger, the boredom of this land next impressing me as a mildness to satisfy in a Godly manner. How could I not well love a land that so kindly kept me? Like a mother.
No more powerful sense of return to London had I in the wilds than those impressions engendered by boredom and a smell. Occasionally thereafter I returned to that stagnant water, though never was the evocation so intense as the first. With no intent, however, I often recalled the sinners' great city, and often felt boredom in my latest realm. But I had learned to respond to that boredom with a sensible appreciation of my moderate life.
In this manner the months proceeded. To alleviate my tedium, I initiated a hobby: seeking each type of mobile creature in the domain by walking circularly around the hovel-manse, first cataloging die largest variety: rarely-seen small bears I notated via droppings and lairs in caves Marybelle and I had not previously found-and would not be living in now, considering those unsharing inhabitants. Besides, we had a cave. But friendly I would remain with these furry bear beasts, since we were so similar as to share sleeping habits, perhaps along with elephants.
The second-largest creature was a type of lynx cat, like our own from Man's Isle, and therefore happily reminiscent. This beast I appreciated less upon learning it ate lizards. Smaller yet were two varieties of fox that hid in dead trees, and a type of marmot residing in burrows. None of these animals had interest in me, avoiding the witch even after my smell and demeanor proved me harmless. No Randolph were they. Perhaps the same as London, I would be appreciated more after I was gone, and the beasts became bored with their dull life without me.
London.
Soon I lost the fine spirits I held in this enterprise, for upon discovering a third variety of squirrel, a black moth flitted by of a type not observed before. The remainder of the day I thus sought only moths. Despair set in shortly, for of the countless moths seen, the different types seemed as numerous as the individual members of any breed-what then of flies and half-eaten lizards?
But never did I find a monkey.
Marybelle had no similar activity, being so fine as to enjoy her safe life painlessly. Not painless was mine after endless moths turned my hobby into a chore, into another contest I would certainly lose; for how many decades would I need to discover the final animal when each day a new bird was observed, though weeks ago I had proceeded to toads? And, no, this self-inflicted hobby had nothing to do with my surviving in London by becoming aware of coachmen and clergy and constables. The possible truth I next considered hardly relieved my anxiety. I came to believe that neither boredom nor my retrieved past was the cause of these contests, but a curse from Satan for my not killing enough sinners when he had given me opportunity.
With this response, the understanding of my past most likely to come seemed madness-and thank you, Satan, for your latest enlightenment. To encourage my own survival of mind, I thus abandoned my animalistic hobby while I yet had the abilities to count and account for, and what a relief not to have reached ants.
This relief, unfortunately, came too early in the year, for I retained my hobby until early autumn. Therefore, the greater part of a season lay for me to pass before winter brought its suffering. And come winter did, with more intensity than the former. Again we became like bears, but before sleeping we suffered, for not even witches can comfortably accept a cold to paralyze furred creatures. All our clothing we donned, including shoes and pantaloons. Lying together in our mutual bed, my belly against Marybelle's back, painful shivering struck completely through us. And though I longed for spring and the warmth of new life, not in the least did I desire London, not even the Rathel's house with its superior warmth. The only removal from this cold I craved was a season of heat. But first came sleep and with it comfort.
Soon after Marybelle and I awoke the following spring, I determined to love the present season and avoid both old and new anxieties. I thus pursued no further hobbies. Sinners and their cities were not my concern. The same as Marybelle, I proceeded with full appreciation of our common living. Then came summer, and another stench to change my life.
Early in the season came a tremendous passing of birds, a type of kite with abbreviated tail, the flock so massive as to inhibit sunlight like a cloud. Though the fascinated witches denoted no untoward occurrence, the white one had further curiosity of this natural passage.
"The previous year we were present in this land, Marybelle, yet no such passage was seen."
"And before that we doubtless missed their return."
"I beg pardon, miss, but I fail to glean your meaning."
"For birds to go one way now means their later returning. But the cycle may not be a year, but two or three. Perhaps they returned at a time before our arrival below them."
"Know ye of other animal cycles so lengthy?"
"In nature's whole, more than creatures are of a cycle. Winds high and low can come each year or once a lifetime. The sun does things difficult to sense but every decade or more. Certain animals find the need to mate but once in their life, or once young and again before dying."
"If recollection supports my knowledge correctly, thrice in my life on Man's Isle were tides of equal intervals so low as to expand beaches."
"Yes," she replied.
"Furthermore, is not my recollection accurate of a crab with long legs seen only with these tides?"
"Oft the things come not alone, but engender other parts of nature toward their own cycles."
"Might we then expect a companion effect with this massed flying, perhaps tornadoes or hail-or an influx of giraffes into our land? Oh, please, miss. No more delightful sight could I imagine than scores of giraffes descending from the mountains."
" 'Giraffes'?" Marybelle retorted. "Be this something the sinners make? Expect ye metalwork or furniture to be coming our way?"
With a delight equal to my having seen the wonderful creatures, I explained giraffes-and elephants also. Marybelle at first considered my speaking mere humor, but the monkeys I also mentioned were beasts she had sensed before. I therefore proceeded in a wondrous but accurate manner to describe my every sight and smell of the* animals, pleased Marybelle becoming most interested. Not mentioned, however, were auxiliary facts: about viewing the creatures with a sinner boy and being ravaged by their trainer, about naming my personal semi-killers after these animals, this an insult for which I would doubtless never redeem myself in the eyes of God.
Though assured by Marybelle that no such exotic beasts would be seen flocking to England, the imagining was nevertheless so fine that oft I literally looked beyond in a game of seeing giraffes and elephants come quietly approaching. On a hill one day to search for mushrooms that never grew low, I sensed a strong, hot breeze from along the mountains' lay. With this wind came an odor I thought at first to be of giraffes, so odd and old it was, though known. With more thought, however, I found it unpleasant, therefore not belonging to these favorite creatures, but more akin to . . . stagnant water. Comprehension of this identifying scent then returned, for even diluted by distance and mixed with intervening odors, the smell of sinners was recognized.
Long enough I remained high to return with an assured story for Marybelle, who thereafter climbed the hill with me. Thereupon she worked her nose and lungs only to unfortunately agree.
"Do you find their distance significant, Marybelle?"
"Not great enough to make us fearless."
"But the smell I find static, and not of a moving herd."
"No better is this, for the smell is not of simple human animals, but sinners' products. We smell an establishment, not a pack. This scent I fear to be of a village," Marybelle determined.
"Not smelled before, I presume, because of this extra-seasonable wind come to frighten us. Nevertheless, the intervening distance should not currently distress us."
"Not now, but as any plague, a sinners' village spreads and devours nature before it."
"What then might be our active response to this unpleasant knowledge?"
"Worry little and remain alert."
"And if the plague of sinners infests our domain?"
"Move if we can away and deeper into this land."
"And live thereafter on the bog? Rather would I be taken by sinners," I retorted.
"Not into the bog, but to the far side, beyond our current sensing."
"The direction I mentioned when this one was chosen instead. Praise God we did not proceed that way, for surely we would now be standing in a major city."
"Doubtful," Marybelle replied.
Guided by good sense, Marybelle and I remained cognizant of the sinning smell without becoming so concerned as to modify our lives. Never did the older witch need to climb high ground to denote the sinners' state, for her curious sister kept vigil, finding herself perhaps too often on that hill. Marybelle did not bother to inquire of these observations, aware that I would describe any significant changes in the sinning situation. And silent I remained because the sinners retained their position, allowing us to retain our land.
During that summer, I developed the notion of insufficient concern. What sinners were we concerned with? I wondered. How were we to understand the potential problem beyond when our knowledge of same was diluted by distance? Would we witches not improve our defense by learning more of the specific sinners, their number and potential approach? To do so, some sister would have to near that smell, and what was dangerous about a walk in warm weather?
Naught of this idea I mentioned to Marybelle, preferring not to display my overconcern and thereby fail another unintended contest. Nevertheless, to prepare for dreadful circumstance, I examined my sinning apparel without my sister's notice. My brown woollen dress approached shabbiness with its shredded ends and translucent areas where the witch had rubbed her environ. Apparently new, however, was my medium-blue gown of a cut not so stylish as to stop the River Thames. But had I grown so massive that the item would no longer fit? What value the apparel in coming winters if I could not pull it over my form? But fit me it did, though tightly. No shawl had I, and no jacket for my torso, so how much of the lady was I? A cloak and hat, however, I had retained, adequate for societies shy of London's. Since at the time I lived in God's society, I undressed with the knowledge that if need be, I again could pass amongst sinners without their presuming me the witch.
After days of believing that increased knowledge of the sinners would benefit us witches, my moral sense revealed additional emotion, for desire was included, the need to understand what value I yet found in the sinners and their manufactured lives. For days, this self-comprehension satisfied me as a mark of my becoming more ethical in God's moral world. As though an expert in understanding, however, I gained even greater comprehension, though it seemed detrimental to my ethics. My desire to find a proper place with the sinners by understanding the past and predicting the future was not only moral education, but an attempt to justify my acceptance of certain sinning values. Therefore, I dealt not with mores, but lust. My attraction to sinners was like Londoners and their liquor, which
made them fine yet made them mad, and eventually could kill. As though drunk myself, I had only to decide if I were insane enough to approach the sinners, or witch enough to remain apart. Before mentioning my passion to Marybelle, the sinning witch had decided.
"Despite my lack of objectivity, Marybelle, I confess that I fear the sinners, their potential and proximity."
"I also, but little."
"My belief is that our fears would be alleviated by our learning more of this nearby populace."
"True, so tell me news when you smell it, in that often you are high."
"Since I am also distant from these people, my suggestion is to approach them to learn more with better smelling, perhaps with sight."
"Being no fool, I'll not go to sinners who would kill me."
"I would offer myself for this venture, Marybelle. Since I resemble these folk, my appearance would not draw them."
"The white witch draws them with her smell."
"Only when near to the touch, and I would remain at distant sight."
"What if you are espied yourself and followed here?"
"I would run."
"Not from horses."
"Horses I would smell before their riders could observe me. I would remain beyond sight if horses be present."
"The value is not enough for the risk," Marybelle insisted, "not if you are followed here and our home and ourselves be destroyed."
"Approaching so near as to allow following would in fact be foolish. Being no fool, I would remain well removed."
"If sense you do have, you remain away until they present danger."
"We wait, then, for the sinners to attack us?"
"We wait for them to leave their setdement and near us."
"But we would be too late if mounted hunters discover us hated witches."
"If men come with horses and metal weapons, we will not be able to flee enough. Even sinners can move through a bog. We would have to hide away, perhaps bury ourselves a time."
"But if we were sufficiendy removed, we would have no necessity to disrupt our lives."
"Much farther and we have no good food."
"Farther, Marybelle, and we have no need to retreat because we would be well separated from the sinners. And if we had knowledge of them beyond our current ignorance, we would not require such endless speech."
"I travel to no sinners for the sake of fear's fantasy. And neither do you unless you have a craving of their ways."
"I have no craving for sinners, in that most of their ways I find offensive."
"And the remaining ways which offend you not? Do these draw desire from you?" *
"Your question is the very fantastical fear you mentioned, Marybelle. The craving I have regarding sinners is to know what they would do against me before they begin. The craving I have is to be neither killed nor vanquished from my home. Surely you have the same intent in living."
"Surely you intend to hie toward the sinners despite any of my speaking."
"Since you have convinced me of the value, Marybelle, I leave tomorrow."
"You go alone, girl, and go more of a liar than a fool," Marybelle declared. "Your words were given with care, but you smell of desire. The sinners have something you would have or would seek, and I will be no part of your finding it. Go if you must, but justify it not with our safety, but fault the devil for your lust. You go without true concern for my speaking, but you will never be so fine with words as to have me agree. Sinners dupe one another with speeches, but they do not hoax witches with words. I am the witch and remain the witch-what person are ye?"
With all our firm words, we parted without a spoken decision. And though I felt Marybelle was not too displeased, mainly I hoped that she was not disappointed in me, disappointed in her sister.
Twenty-five
The walking was easy, despite the burden of a new possession. The morning I departed-Marybelle out in the land and out of my sight-I found a defense against sinners left as I slept. In my bag was a Bible, a magic notion to protect me, since no witch would carry a Bible. Marybelle thereby revealed her concern, for I would have no need for the sinners' talisman unless they detected me, and thus she expected me to approach too near for a witch, near enough fot a fool.
