Wicked Girls Read Online Free PDF Page B

“Mother,”
    Mother listens and replies,
    â€œYes, dear Ann.”
    And when I do say
    I see the Invisible World
    Father doth bend an ear
    and hold me upon his lap.
    But what is most amazing
    about Affliction
    is that Mercy is come along now
    as my sister.
    She eats beside me at the table.
    We sit in meeting and examination as kin .

BETROTHED
    Margaret Walcott, 17
    Isaac and his father shake off their hats
    and shake hands with my father
    fore they sit at the table
    and swallow five mugs of cider
    and whisper for two and a half hours.
    I crouch down, as my legs
    ache from standing and spying.
    â€œPeer not round the corner,
    Maaaaargaret.” Step-Mother shakes
    my shoulders and I nearly wail
    like a boat entering harbor.
    My heart breaks in fast waves
    against my skin.
    â€œYou frightened me,” I whisper
    through grinded teeth.
    She thrusts me back
    so she can best see.
    â€œLooks as though Isaac will marry you
    after all.” Step-Mother shrugs.
    â€œThough I cannot know why.”
    â€œHow do you know we will be wed?”
    I ask her.
    â€œWell, there be no brawl and your father
    just patted Isaac’s back.”
    I run toward the front room,
    but Step-Mother catches my skirt
    and winds me back into her
    like I be a spool of thread.
    â€œOh, no. That be affairs of men,”
    she says.
    â€œBut I just want to rejoice
    with Isaac a moment.”
    â€œRejoice,” she snorts.
    â€œGo and pray now
    you make him happy enough.”
    I sulk down the hall.
    Dear Lord, I pray that Mercy
    may find torment so great
    she recovers not
    and then Isaac shall be happy
    with only me.

BECAUSE I CALL HER WITCH
    Mercy Lewis, 17
    They bind Goody Corey’s hands
    in front of her
    like a mock prayer.
    She bows down her head.
    The night wind
    slices her back in a cross
    shoulder to shoulder,
    and I hold the blade.
    The stain of red is upon my hands.
    I point “Witch, witch”—
    and they cart her away.
    Creaking wheels cut the snow.
    Goody Corey’s face softens
    from its haggard knot
    into my mother’s freckled cheek.
    I fall to knees,
    beg, “Forgive me.
    I will take the lash and chain,
    just set her free.”
    Wilson licks my fingers,
    and I wake.
    The sun already half-mast
    and yet none calls my name
    to fetch or serve,
    but they take me now
    more like one of their own.
    Be this the Lord’s way?

OUR PLACE
    Mercy Lewis, 17
    Inside Ingersoll’s ordinary,
    the tavern owned by Margaret’s uncle
    with food and housing for travelers,
    my place aside Ann, Elizabeth,
    Betty and Abigail awaits me.
    Margaret also sits at our table.
    All nod “Good day” to us seers
    as though we are menfolk,
    not maids or children.
    Ears perk and lean
    toward our table.
    The town asks
    what have we seen
    of the Invisible World?
    Elizabeth’s eyes a royal purple,
    her face filled with scratches
    like she wrestled a wild boar.
    â€œMartha Corey did torment me
    last night,” Elizabeth whispers to us
    as though she means it.
    Her sleeves stretched over her hands
    like mittens.
    Margaret yanks Elizabeth to her feet
    so all can observe the girl’s swollen face.
    â€œMartha Corey did beat Elizabeth,”
    Margaret brags to the crowd, and yet
    she be the only girl at the table,
    still, without the vision
    to see.
    Margaret brushes my arm
    as she takes her seat. She jumps back
    as though she might catch pox
    should her skin fall on mine.
    â€œWhat be, Margaret?” I ask her.
    She swallows as in disgust.
    â€œHow could any believe
    the words of a serving girl?”
    Ann grabs Margaret’s arm.
    â€œYou will speak to Mercy with respect
    or leave this table, Margaret.”
    Silence clamps tight the bench.
    The other girls pick
    at the bread crumbs dusting their plates.
    Margaret nods at Ann.
    She looks not on me.
    Abigail reveals a bruise upon her arm
    and announces with the volume of an angry reverend,
    â€œRebecca Nurse pinched and pricked me.”
    The