Fact Finder, vol. 3, No. 3, Sept 1, 2012

THE PORT HENRY FACT FINDER

Reporting the News and Needs of Port Henry and Vicinity

vol. 3, issue #3 September 1, 2012
This issue has been made possible by the generous support of the following:

Bryant's Lumber, Gene's Michigan Stand, Mineville Oil and Port Henry Service

The following two short stories were written, at the end of last year's school year, by two students of Moriah Central School from Patrick McCaffrey's 9th grade English class. This is the second year Fact Finder has devoted one of its summer issues to student work. Fact Finder is proud to present these two short stories by Karla Hayes and Kayla Joy, this year's student authors.

Forgetting Sonya

by Karla Hayes

The year was 1933 and the month was June. The trees and flowers were in full bloom and the invisible pollen coated the air. But pollen wasn't the only thing making the air heavy that summer.

Elections were coming up, and I grew increasingly alarmed at the growing amount of support the NAZI party was collecting. The NAZI party and their leader Mr. Adolf Hitler stood for everything evil and inhumane.

Mr. Hitler was the Devil reincarnate, while the NAZI supporters were his little puppets and danced to any tune he chose.

I was in complete favor of the Socialist party. They believed in everything I found ethical. They believed in Democracy and equality. All of these things, I felt, Germany needed at this time. I prayed heavily every night that the Socialist party would win, and the NAZI party would disappear, never to be found again.

The thing I most strongly detested about the NAZI party was that they wanted to annihilate Jews.

My best friend Sonya Katz was a Jew...

***

The start of my life did not happen on the day I was born. The beginning of my life started on a hot Saturday afternoon, that June in 1933.

My mother was losing her memories. She required constant attention, and every day of the week I was her caretaker, except on Saturdays. On Saturdays, my wonderful Aunt gave me a much needed day off.

This special Saturday, I was walking through the village with one of my best friends, Emmett Schmidt. I was aiming to buy a new book, but by the end of my trip out into town, I wouldn't remember what I had come for at all.

"Have you spoken with Sonya lately?" Emmett asked.

We strolled down the street with fake dignity. We thought we were gentlemen, a higher class of people. While in all reality, the only difference between us and the beggars on the streets were names.

"No, I have not. Is there something I should know?" I asked, trying hard not to let anxiety seep through my words.

Sonya and I shared a very platonic relationship. We felt like each other's brother and sister. If I had known the tragedy that would fall upon her so very soon, I would have eagerly lain down my life for her that very Saturday.

"Oh, no. It's just..." Emmett was cut off by me.

"There she is, Sonya! Sonya, over here! Come, join us! I called across the town square.

Sonya immediately headed toward us, with a smile on her face that she was famous for around town.

"August. Emmett. What a delightful surprise!" She exclaimed as she reached us. "Why I had just been thinking, I must be the only person dumb enough to venture out into this unbearable heat."

"Well, I'd rather be dumb with you than with anyone else," Emmett squawked out.

He clamped his mouth shut, almost instantly. I held back a laugh as he blushed and shuffled around on the feet. Emmett had been in love with Sonya as soon as the three of us met. Of course, as the world would have it, Sonya had no idea.

"Emmett was just about to tell me some very interesting news about you, Sonya." I broke the silence in a teasing manner. My smile widened as Emmett's blush grew increasingly redder.

"What news might that be?" Sonya asked innocently.

"Oh, nothing, you know the imagination he has, he should be a poet, I swear. Um...I..I have to go. Yes, yes, that's right. I have to go now. Goodbye." Emmett stammered, and then ran off, fast as a wild horse.

"So what's the news?"

"Let's walk, shall we?" She asked. I held out my arm and she took it gracefully. It took a while before she spoke the words that would send my petite world crashing down.

"My brother Richard leaves for America in two weeks."

"Good for him!" I replied honestly.

"He asked me to go with him."

"You said no, of course. Tell me I'm correct. I mean, with your parents here and your little sister, you have to stay. You wouldn't leave them...couldn't rather. It would crush their hearts." I babbled.

"I haven't decided yet, August. Tell me what to do. I just don't know..." she whispered.

"Stay!" Oh, how I wish I had said "go."

***

Days went by and I had no word from Sonya. I grew increasingly agitated at her forgetfulness of me during this life changing time. This was all running through my head when my older brother found me grooming the horses early one Monday morning. My brother spoke to me only when absolutely necessary; so I took his next words with great measure.

"Father wants to see you in his office. Right away." my brother sneered and then left.

"What would father want with me?" I whispered to the horse I had just been grooming. As I expected, I received no answer from my four legged companion. In the last two months, I had seen my father once, and briefly at that. He didn't exactly favor or even like me, for that matter.

I washed up and made my way to my father's office quickly. Whatever this was about, I wanted to be done with it. It was dark inside the office and I almost choked on the scent of tobacco and body odor. I took a seat in one of the red, plush seats that were set before my father's desk. I knew the chair I was sitting in was more for decoration than use. My father sat with his back to me, like I didn't deserve to be spoken to face to face.

"Let's get straight to the point," my father's deep voice filled the silence. "Your professors have told me that you're not as useless as I think, and that you have a gift in politics. So tell me...what's your view on the NAZI party/"

My blood ran cold. I knew where this conversation was headed, before it had even started.

"They are arrogant and evil, the devil's angels. They have no respect humanity. They need to be removed from the election entirely." I voiced my opinion.

"I seem to disagree." My father's words would forever haunt me. "I especially agree with their thought on Jews."

"What? What about equality? What about God's word? I questioned.

"Oh, and your affair with the Jewish girl, Katz, I think her name is, ends now." He went on like he didn't even hear me.

"It's not an affair. Sonya is my best friend. You can't tell me who I can and can't see!" I yelled.

"Do you like your house? Your food? Your clothes? Your wealth? Do you favor your life?" I audibly ground my teeth at my own father's threats against me.

"I'll leave then," I snarled.

"Then I'll put your mother in one of those lunatic hospitals. Is that what you want?" My father's humorous tone and laugh at the end of his question tortured me.

"You should be put in one of those hospitals, not mother.," I exclaimed.

"Maybe so, but this is all about preserving our family image. You'll understand someday." he yawned, like this should all make sense to me.

I rose, ready to leave. "May you burn in the deepest part of Hell! Damn you, and your brother Satan!" I cried out between clinched teeth.

"The Devil and I will have fun. I can assure you that, my dear, dear son." He laughed again.

I raced out of his office, gasping for fresh air. Only one word ran through my head..."son." I was no son of his...

***

The months passed quickly after that, with my only happiness coming from the news that Sonya hadn't gone to America. I received this news through Emmett, since I had been banned from even looking at Sonya. Emmett had explained the situation to her. She had told him that she forgave me and understood. This was my only comfort in the following months.

Election Day had come. It was a rainy and dreadful day. A setting for the worst outcome was there before me. I was in a large group of people and knew none of them around me. Finally a man, holding a telegram, came to the stage before the mob I was located in. He was somber as he announced the devastating news. "The NAZI party has won by..." He was drowned out by exclamations of disgust, but even more so by applause.

Riots broke out everywhere, Mr. Hitler's speech was covered by increasing noise, not that I wanted to hear it anyway. Suddenly, I felt a blow to my jaw, turned to face the instigator, punched him back and put all of my weight into it.

***

The days and weeks after that seemed to be the worst of my life. Oh, how naïve I was.

Jews had started to disappear, taken away by NAZIS to concentration camps. It killed me a little every time I thought of Sonya.

My father had officially joined the NAZI party and had helped them set up a concentration camp in our own town. Due to his prior military experience, Hitler put my father in charge of the camp. This all disgusted me beyond belief. One foggy morning something happened that finally broke me. My father came to find me while I was sitting with my mother.

"Come with me," he said sternly.

"No!"

"Now!" he ordered impatiently.

"I can't leave mother alone."

"I have asked the house maid to come and sit with her while we are gone."

"Why do I need to come with you?"

"To be taught a lesson."

I rose, knowing I was fighting a losing battle. If my father wanted me to go, he wouldn't think twice about physically forcing me to go. He led me outside to our automobile in which my brother and the driver were already seated. Surprisingly, my father let me in first. This became less surprising when I realized I was conveniently between him and my brother.

As we drove through the streets I had only a faint idea where we were. The fog made it hard to tell, but if we were going where I thought we were going, I needed to get out of this automobile, fast. I started to rise, trying to make a dive for it, when I was thrown back in my seat. Both my father and brother took out pistols and jammed them into my sides. I gulped in horror, not from the guns, in fact I wish they had shot me then. I was horrified from already knowing the scene that would unfold before me once the automobile stopped. At the end of that thought, I heard brakes screech and the automobile came to a dead stop.

I was led out of the automobile by my brother and father, who then hid the three of us behind a large tree. I could see a house. Some NAZIS were there, they had gas masks on. They were carrying a few limp bodies. That's when I caught a glimpse of her...Sonya!

I struggled again my brother and father's hold on me, but could not break it. I watched horrified as Sonya's body was thrown into a military vehicle.

"Is she alive?" I managed to get out.

"Yes." said my father.

"For now." my brother chuckled darkly.

I was already over the edge. My brother's words were like rocks waiting to crack open my skull at the bottom of a fall. I turned too quickly for them to catch me and I punched my brother in the nose. I felt deep satisfaction as warm red liquid spread from his face onto my fist. They were both too shocked to keep a hold on me and I managed to escape. Then I ran...faster than I thought I ever could, straight to Emmett Schmidt's house..

***

When I arrived there, I told Emmett everything that had just taken place. He became a frantic and insane man, just as I was. We started to plan how to save Sonya. The plan came only too easy. We'd go undercover and join the NAZIS, which was a task in itself, and could take our lives. Then we would get stationed at the concentration camp in town, the one where Sonya was located. We would gain the NAZIS' trust, and as soon as we did that, we would escape with Sonya in the dead of night. The three of us would then escape to America, to her brother's new home. The plan seemed flawless, but no plan turns out as it should.

I left Emmett's house still a broken man, but a broken man with help...

A couple of weeks passed. Emmett and I had decided to travel to America by boat. It was less conspicuous. We had already bought three tickets, using fake identifications, and had made contact with Sonya's brother. He thanked us and assured us that he would do everything in his power to help from America.

I made inquiries of my father the same day I got Sonya's brother's letter. He was pleased that Emmett and I had finally found the 'truth', although he was a little skeptical when I told him we wanted to be stationed at the camp in town. But when I told him we wanted his help in ascending the military ladder, that seemed to win him over. Step one of the plan was taken care of and I was one step closer to saving Sonya...

***

What I saw at the concentration camp, I could never fully explain to anyone. The chemicals and scent of burnt flesh rotting the air. It was a smell that would haunt my nostrils forever. The bodies of lifeless children, women and men gave me nightmares. Knowing that I had a hand in some of the deaths made me want to take my own and try to balance it out. But I had to save Sonya.

Sonya...I had been here for months and I had seen her only twice. Emmett, on the other hand, was stationed at her area of the camp and saw her daily.

One day I made my way to mine and Emmett's room. We had a large room, which was actually two. We were bunk mates, all thanks to my devilish father. That's when I heard, "Emmett, please, do this for me...I can't take it anymore." Sonya's voice hit me as I entered the first room. They had the door to the adjoining room, where they were, open. I could see them, hand in hand, but they did not hear no see me. I stayed still and continued to watch them.

"Before I do this, I have to tell you this... I love you," Emmett confessed. "I've loved you since the day I met you."

"I love you too Emmett, I always have," Sonya admitted. I wasn't shocked. Though Sonya had never spoken of her feelings for Emmett, I had suspected.

Then they started to kiss, hungrily and eagerly. For a split second I was joyous for them; I was happy that even through all this tragedy, they could find joy. Suddenly, I became very confused. Emmett's hands had made their way up to Sonya's neck. I was even more confused when they tightened.

I was frozen to the spot. I watched unbelievingly as the life left Sonya's body. Emmett let go and the body that had once housed Sonya, happy, loving, beautiful Sonya, fell to the floor with an audible thud. Emmett fell to his knees beside the still warm corpse and screeched like a man gone crazy, which I now knew he was.

I might have stood there unseen for a minute, it might have been an hour. I would never know the time lapse between when my feeling of confusion turned to rage and grief. I stormed up to him, grabbing him by the cuff of his shirt. I punched him, hard. He kept his eyes closed, but no pain showed on his face.

"I suppose you saw then," he said calmly. His calmness angered me. I hit him again. I was scared at the delight I took in the bone-shattering crunch of his nose and the scarlet red blood that dripped out of his nose.

"She asked me too, August." he sighed out, almost in relief.

"I don't care if she forced you to. You took her life!" I screamed, surely turning red.

"Then take mine..." He didn't have to tell me twice. I wrapped my hands around his neck, and slowly choked the life out of him, just as he did it to Sonya. I wanted to make it last longer. I wanted him to feel just as scared I imagined Sonya had felt, but he just looked peaceful, and I, at the time, couldn't imagine why.

I reacted quickly, throwing his lifeless body away from me and grabbing the bag that we had packed for America from underneath our bunk beds. I walked up to the door, ready to leave, when it opened and my father was suddenly in my face. He looked over my shoulder and "tsk"-ed.

"You've really made a mess of things now, boy,. At least the Jew died," he chuckled softly, the looked backwards before yelling, "Guards, kill this soldier!"

He looked back at me, happiness evident on his face, but it faded slightly when he saw my pistol in my hand.

"You're not man enou..."

Those were his last words. I shot him, a nice clean one in the forehead. If he were alive, I could imagine him complimenting me on it.

Then I was off and running. Adrenaline pumped through my veins, setting every nerve in my body on edge. I could hear the bullets racing just past my head, some skimming my clothes and hair. The spotlight shown down on me, but they didn't realize that they were just making it easier for me to see. I didn't stop running until I was in deep woods and had run upstream in a shallow creek for about a mile. I lay down underneath a large oak tree and covered myself with the forest ground. It took a while before exhaustion took its toll on me and I fell into a dark, troubled sleep.

***

I awoke and took in my surroundings carefully. I had no doubt that the NAZIS were still avidly searching for me, but from what I could see and sense, nothing was around me at the time except for a few birds singing in the trees and a deer in the distance.

I reached for my bag, pulled it closer to me and unzipped it, trying to make as little noise as possible. I took out the three tickets Emmett and I had bought. As it was less conspicuous, we had decided to travel by boat, and for that I was grateful. I got up and explored the land around me carefully. If I was where I thought I was, I was on the outskirts of our town. It was a seven-day walk to where the boat was and it left in eight. I sent up a quick and thankful prayer to God; then realizing what I had done last night, probably the worst sin of all, I sent up a longer prayer asking for forgiveness. I knew I would need more time to forgive myself, but knowing I had God's forgiveness made me feel a little better. I started walking almost immediately, not wanting the NAZIS to find me and wanting to get to the boat as fast as I could, made me go even faster. I stopped only to relieve myself, to eat and drink when necessary and sleep only when I got dizzy.

I became a man in those long seven days. I became strong and quiet. Most people would not look at those days as the hardest days of my life, but I did. Those were the days that made me grow up.

I reached the coast with a whole day to spare and spent most of it making up for the sleep I had missed trying to get there. I feared going into public places. What if the NAZIS were there already, waiting for me? No, I wouldn't think of that. I had to go on.

I was almost confident that I looked like a completely different man. I had changed out of my uniform and had put on the new clothes that had been in my bag. I took a deep breath and continued on my journey.

I was surprised, to say the least, when they accepted my ticket without questioning me at all. Either I did look like a different person or the NAZIS hadn't sent out word about what had happened.

***

I have known the love of a woman, I have felt the joy of holding my child in my arms, and I have felt the pride of watching my son grow into a righteous man. But lately I've known more pain and, in a sense, I've known less of nothing at all. I've been diagnosed with Alzheimer's, the disease they think my mother had. On good days, I can even remember my son's name, but it's getting worse...

I knew there was one last place to go before I lost all memory of everything. So I went back to Germany, on a plane this time, and traveled back to my home town. No one would recognize. Most of the people I knew were probably dead and the ones that weren't have probably moved away.

I went to where the concentration camp had been. One would never know the horror that had taken place here. All buildings had been demolished. All trace of everything was gone.

I lay down where I thought mine and Emmett's bedroom had been, as close as possible to where Sonya's body had once been and tried to remember, because I must remember.

Out of the Frying Pan into the Fire

by Kayla Joy

Laura knew she had to get up. There were clothes to wash, animals to feed and an herb garden to tend. But first there would be breakfast to make and clean up. The chamber pot had to be emptied and cleaned soon, and there was always spinning and embroidery... She gave a groan of despair and pulled the coarse, hand-woven bed clothes, still warm from the body heat of her mother and three-year-old brother, over her head. No, she most definitely did not want to get up. Laura closed her eyes and tried to slip silently back into the black comforting abyss of sleep."Mow!" Laura shot straight up, her eyes flew open and she let out a sharp gasp,. Bijou, her mother's small, soft cat with swirls of black, cream and cinnamon through out her long dark brown fur, lay comfortably kneading the skin of Laura's thigh through the covers. She could feel the vibrations of the cat's barely audible purr and the warmth of her small body. Bijou looked up at Laura, her dazzling copper eyes filled with both a smile and a challenge. "Mow." Despite herself Laura smiled.

"Fine, I'm awake ye comely daemon!" She swooped the animal into her arms and stood in one smooth motion. Bijou yowled her protest and leaped from her arms. Laura dressed quickly and poured herself a mug of syllabub. She watched the cream swirl in the cider as the fragrant steam rolled into her face. She added a pinch more nutmeg and took a sip

A sudden flash of black feathers whooshed passed her face as Charcoal, her spunky, intelligent blackbird landed on the side of her mug. With a finger Laura stroked the soft feathers that held captured rainbows when the light touched them. Charcoal was Laura's familiar, as the ways of the Old Religion told, the bird's soul was intertwined with hers just as Bijou's was with her mother's. Charcoal had been hers since Bijou had plunked the small, wet, injured bird into Laura's lap when she was only a chick. Orphaned by the cat and carried off, she'd had no one but Laura. Their connection had been instant and had only grown in their two years of companionship. They sat together at the table and shared Laura's breakfast.

"Commin', Waura?" Gabe called from outside.

"Coming." Laura gulped down the contents of her mug and ran outside, Charcoal flying beside her.

Laura wiped at the moisture on her forehead with the back of her hand while she pulled at a stubborn weed. Her mother, a tall, beautiful woman with dark silken, brown hair, knelt beside her, expertly removing unwanted plants. The warm summer sun beat down and a most welcome breeze brushed her face. Charcoal sat on a nearby fence post and Gabriel, with coal black hair like her father use to have and a round babyish face, played marbles in the dirt, while Bijou stalked the small clay orbs. Laura glanced at the road that ran past her family's house and noticed a small dust cloud rolling up it's narrow length. She nudged her mother as it moved swiftly closer. Soon, the small yard was filled with the sound of hooves. It was a fine chestnut steed, strong and powerful, wild and willful. Very much like it's rider.

The rider was about six feet tall, with a sinewy sailor's build and a shock of fire-red hair that he kept short. His skin was burnt from the sun and had many freckles. His face was marked with laugh lines. Laura's heart gave a flip.

Nat had scarcely dismounted before Laura and Gabe were on him. "Nat!" Gabe screamed as he pawed the man's pant leg with grubby fingers. "Fwip me! Fwip me!" Nat grabbed Gabe by the ankles and held him upside down as Gabe giggled. Nat flashed Laura and her mother one of his dazzling white smiles. He had been her father's first mate and had taken over as captain since her father's death. He would remain captain and would bring her family the money and supplies they needed until Gabe was old enough to sail the ship on his own.

The warm glow of the fire provided just enough light to sew the two pieces of cloth in her hands into a new dress but her brain just wasn't allowing her to concentrate. Nat had brought a lot of news from town, mostly the gossip that Laura normally loved, but also news of a nearby witch trial and rumors of more to come. Charcoal was relaying the last of these messages to the members of her mother's coven. Being high priestess was a responsibility that weighted heavily on Laura's mother and tonight she was gathering the others for a protection circle to keep them from danger and watching eyes. Tap, tap, tap came the soft rap of Charcoals beak on the small wood door that the bird could open and close on her own. The door had been an invention of Laura's father. He may not have approved of her mother's and her own witch craft but he had supported them both. He had made the door shortly before he had left for the last time. "That thing's gotta leave that box eventually and I don't want it leaving its droppings all over yur ma's nice clean house." he had told her that two years ago as he was making the hole for the door, before he had left on that trading mission to America and never come back. Laura fought back the tears that threatened to blur her vision.

"Laura." her mother whispered. She had tucked Gabe in and was preparing to leave. She and Laura donned their heavy wool cloaks and stepped into the night, headed for the deep woods, Charcoal overhead and Bijou in tow. They walked in silence until they came to a hollow tree at the edge of a clearing lit sparingly with candles. She and her mother removed their cloaks and stepped into the circle of witches at the clearing's center. Her mother's voice began, clear and powerful.

"Here do I invoke to aid our goal, out father above and mother below..."

More than half the village was gathered around the small pond that was just deep enough for its purpose. Ann Putnam, a good woman, a midwife and one of Laura's mother's closest friends, was bound tightly, her thumbs to her big toes. A burly man in a tall pointed hat read the Lords Prayer and the charges. She was a witch. She had spoiled the harvest. She had killed 3 of farmer Dun's best cattle and drained their blood. She had given Mary Smith's chickens the stink eye and now all their feathers were falling off. She roamed the town at night in a spectral form and gave children frightful dreams. She had signed her name in the devil's book. She was evil and now they would set about proving it.

"Poppy cock!" Laura hissed low beneath her breath. Her mother gave the barest of nods. Gabe clung tight to her leg as two of the black caped men lifted Ann and dumped her into the pond. Excitement and anticipation filled the crowd.

"She floats!" one man gasped excitedly.

"Burn the witch!" This one woman's words became a chant that boiled from the crowd. Laura and her family were pulled along as the crowd rushed to the waiting oak tree with a noose in its branches.

Laura had spent hours crying. Her tears had smudged the likeness she had done of Ann in charcoal on a scrap of paper she nabbed from the church. So eager had they been to see Ann dangle, to see her take responsibility for all their problems. Monsters! All of them! So caught up in grief, Laura hadn't noticed when her mother's and Nat's conversation had turned to an argument. Laura jumped, baffled. She had never before heard Nat yell in anger. Gabriel whimpered in a corner, having soiled his trousers. Laura went to comfort him and lead him outside away from the screaming to get cleaned up. She and Gabe returned to only escalating violence. As she opened the door, her mother struck Nat across the face. Gabe burst into tears and Laura wrapped her arms around him as if to shield him from the anger and hostility on Nat's face and the fire she never thought could exist in her mother's eyes. It was almost enough to make Laura soil herself.

"You'll regret this Mary Harlow, trust that!" Nat declared as he rode off. The children ran to their mother and the family held and reassured each other. They went to bed and lay together. How much more could be taken from them? Laura thought silently. Would nothing be as it should? She pressed closer to the protecting warmth of her mother with no inkling that soon it would be gone from her life forever.

A week later, a knock came at the door. It was late and dark and cool for a summer night but both Laura and her mother were out of their bed in an instant. They dressed quickly, grabbed the medicine chest, donned their cloaks and ran to a waiting carriage. A woman was in labor, there was not time to waste. Laura could hear her screaming even as the carriage pulled up John Harding's drive. He was one of the wealthiest men in town and had the good fortune of being the husband of the beautiful Kate Harding. This was her first pregnancy and she was two months early.

Normally Laura felt satisfaction and pride after helping her mother in the birthing room, but now she felt only nauseous grief. The bundle in her arms was still. It should have been squirming. It should have whimpered and cried, but, he...a precious baby boy lay still. Dead. While Laura's mother worked desperately to save the mother, Laura moved the blanket over the babe's still, perfect face. She had never lost a babe before and that face would stay with her for the rest of her days.

Laura lay in bed and refused to move. She had watched that perfect boy, wrapped in cloth enter the ground. His tiny, fragile body, so much like her brother's had been, had drawn breath only once before his soul had departed. It was her fault, she should have saved him, she had the power. Regardless of what it would have cost her. She sobbed and wept again. Laura felt a gentle touch at her back.

"Ye must eat my child, lest ye fallow that babe to the grave." her mother whispered softly. Laura sat up and wiped at her nose with her sleeve.

"Does it ever get any easier?" she sniffed.

"No, it doesn't." Laura's gut sank, she felt like sinking under the covers and never coming out, "ye can either get passed it and become stronger or let it consume and destroy you. Let him go." Laura let out a deep breath. "Drink." her mother handed her a cup of tea. She took a swallow and held it on her tongue for a moment. Jasmine and mint, her favorite.

"Thank you." She sniffed again and hugged her mother as Gabe clambered up on the bed, sat cross-legged and sucked his thumb. Bijou followed him up.

"'S Waura aw better now, Mama?" he questioned around his thumb.

"I believe so little one, but she might feel even better if you gave her a hug." Gabe trampled over their mother, arms wide and wrapped them tight around Laura, nearly spilling her tea, and pressed a sloppy kiss to her cheek. More tears welled in her eyes and suddenly his little face was stern.

"Don' cry no more, Waura, don' cry." He squeezed her again and pressed his face into her arm. "I wuv you." "I love you too, little fellow and ... Mother, what's wrong?" Her mother's eyes were glazed over.

"No, they're coming. The hunters. Laura, take Gave and run, now before..." The door splintered and the men burst through and seized her mother as she tried to fend them off. Charcoal called and swooped from the rafter, scouring with beak and talons. One of the men swung blindly at the bird with a poker while covering his eyes. Laura's arm was grabbed roughly as she heard the sickening "thunk" Charcoal's limp, stunned body was flung onto the hearth.

"NO!" Laura shrieked and swung her elbow back into her attacker, then smashed her cup, still full of hot tea, into his face. Bijou yowled and hissed as she rushed out the door, clearing a path. Laura grabbed Gabe and raced after her. She and Bijou sprinted for the forest. She chased the streak of dark fur through branches that slapped her tear-streaked face and brambles that grabbed at the hem of her skirt, until they came to the clearing. She and the cat rested at the tree, she quieted Gabe and prayed to the great mother for their lives.

"I knew ye would come here." a dark voice spoke, cloaked in shadows. Laura could barely make out the dark man's silhouette.

"Stay back!" Laura shouted as she raised her palm towards the dark shadow. She had never used her powers to harm anything before, but she was full of rage, pain and the magic of the clearing, and she was ready to strike. She would lose nothing more tonight and she was prepared to fight to her last breath to make sure of that.

"Laura! easy, it's me." Nat stammered as she stepped closer. Laura hesitated. She'd been so sure the man standing in front of her was evil. How could she have been wrong?" "Trust me." he pleaded. She had no choice but to take his hand and follow. There was nothing left for her here. They would take everything. They would burn her house, smash those possessions they couldn't sell or didn't want for themselves and they would kill off the animals for meat and hides. As far as she knew, her mother was already dangling from the oak's branches.

Laura and Gabe hid in a hollow on deck. She had thought all her troubles would be left behind when she had agreed to come to America with Nat. Now, dark images floated through her mind. Nat's smile when she'd first seen that he'd saved Charcoal and her mother's medicine chest along with some of Gabe's things and her own. The first kiss the "snake" had stolen on a dark, windy night, three days from land. His face cold when he had threatened her for refusing him. Bijou's dying breath. He'd poisoned her, she knew it. Gabe's tear-streaked face, frightened, when Nat had threatened him. She should have never given in to him, should have never trusted him. He was a thief, a traitor, evil. Betrayal crushed her. He had hinted that he had been her mother's accuser and now she wondered. Had her father, an adept seaman, really fallen over board that night? Or was there more to be told?

"There ya are. I've been looking ever'where fer ya." the traitor sneered.

"Get away from me you monster!" Laura growled as she backed away from him.

"Don't think I will." he spat as he lunged, pulling her against him. She shoved her palm against his chest and forced all her rage and pain out at him at once. A bolt of lightening shot from her palm. He stumbled backwards into the ship's rail, shocked. He drew a shaky breath as she stepped closer. She relished the satisfying crunch of his nose and the splash as he hit the water. Silently she reached out through their bond and called for Charcoal as she created a dense fog by willing more water to enter the air. The bird came.

Gabriel and bags in tow and with Charcoal hovering close, Laura took her things and her mother's medicine chest and led what was left of her small family off that cursed ship and on to the docks of Salem, Massachusetts. She was sure that whatever this town held for them, it would be far better than what they had left behind.

Look for the next issue of the Fact Finder on Saturday, September at Adirondack Hair Associates, Macs and Moriah Pharmacy; also you may find copies to read at the Sherman Free Library.