Suffer a Witch (30 page)

“‘Claim’?” Em asked.

“Call to you,” the serpent said. “As with me — you need only to think my name. . .”

“Argos,” Em said.

With a nod, the serpent slid back into the water.

“Em!” Mary Ayer screamed. “Watch out!”

A naked, teenaged version of Argos jumped across the channel. He was fit, a little on the muscular side, and light on his feet. His skin was light brown, and his hair was in short, tight braids. He looked as if he hadn’t bathed in a long, long time. When he growled and gnashed his teeth at Em, his teeth showed stains and signs of wear. He swung a heavy club in Em’s direction. She easily stepped away from his blow.

“Be gone!” this Argos screamed in ancient Hebrew. Em cast a spell so that she could speak and understand his language. He smashed at her with the club again. “Be gone, spirit!”

“I am no spirit,” Em said. “I am flesh like you!”

The young man stopped moving. He reached out to touch her face. She let him feel her flesh before stepping back. She sent the sword away with a snap of her fingers. He looked at her with a mixture of fascination and horror. Feeling sorry for the young man, she pulled off her balaclava and then her sweater. His jaw dropped in horror and fascination at her ability to remove these garments.

“Put this on,” Em said and held the garments out to him. He looked at them.

“He’s no more than a child,” Mary Ayer said. She scooted over and took the garments from Em. “He’s just like my boys.”

Mary Ayer helped the young man put the sweater over his naked flesh. When she’d finished, Em had taken off the shell pants she’d been wearing over her thick fleece pants. Mary helped this young Argos into her shell pants. Em cast a spell so that Mary Ayer could understand and speak with the young man.

“You are very cold,” Mary Ayer said. She kissed his cheek. “I had six boys, just like you.”

“Like me?” Argos asked.

“Just like you,” Mary Ayer said. “I’m Mary. This is Em. She is your kin.”

The young man turned and looked at Em. She gave him a soft smile.

“You look like me,” Argos said.

“I do,” Em said.

“I would have never noticed it,” Mary Ayer said. “Let’s get somewhere warm.”

Argos pointed to the cave, but Em shook her head. She touched his and Mary Ayer’s arm. In a breath, they were sitting in their hotel room on Rousay.

“I need a cup of tea,” Em said.

“I’ll get it,” Mary Ayer said and walked toward the little kitchen in their room. Em cast spells so that no one could hear or see them at the hotel.

“But. . .” Argos interrupted her.

“I promise to bring you back when we’re done,” Em said.

She smiled and finished the spells. Em grabbed a thick wool blanket from the top shelf of the closet and wrapped it around the young man. He sunk into the warmth and stared off at the wall.

“Aren’t you freezing?” Mary Ayer asked Em in a low voice.

“I’m okay,” Em said. “Strangely warm. Like I was born for this moment.”

“I feel the same,” Mary Ayer said. “I think that’s why I helped him.”

Em touched her arm and went back to the young man. Mary Ayer made a pot of tea. She took a package of digestives from her purse and brought them over. She opened the pack and gave it to Em.

“Please tell me your story,” Em said. She took a cookie from the package and made a show of eating it while the young man watched. “We’ve come a long way to hear about your life.”

“I. . .” Argos looked at her and then at Mary Ayer. “What are you?”

“We are women,” Mary Ayer said.

“Have you seen a woman before?” Em asked.

She held out a cookie to the young man. He took it in his fingers. He took a tiny bit of the cookie to test it. His face lit up with delight.

“Have them,” Mary Ayer said.

Argos ate cookie after cookie. When the tea was ready, Mary Ayer poured a cup for herself and Em. He shook his head at the liquid.

“Have you seen women before?” Em asked again.

“Mother,” Argos said. “Sister.”

“You had a mother and a sister?” Em asked.

“A long, long time ago,” Argos nodded. “Are you of the serpent?”

“No,” Mary Ayer said quickly.

“How would I know?” Argos asked.

“You would feel it here.” Em pointed to his heart. The young man nodded. “Listen to your sense of knowing. Ask yourself, ‘Who are we?’”

Argos closed his eyes for a moment.

“You are friend,” Argo said. “Family.”

“Yes, we’re your family,” Mary Ayer said. She touched his shoulder before hugging the young man. “Are you warm enough?”

He nodded.

“Can you tell us what happened to you, son?” Mary Ayer asked.

“Happened to me?” Argos asked.

“Tell us about your life,” Em said. “Where do you come from?”

She held the tea under her nose for comfort.

“I was born in a beautiful place,” Argos said. His face lit up with joy. “Fruit fell off the tree. We hunted and fished with great ease. I spent my days with my father and brothers hunting for food. My mother and sisters prepared everything. We were never hungry. We were never cold.”

Argos tucked his nose into the blanket and instinctively shivered.

“I think I have been cold for an age,” Argos said. He looked at Em. “At home, the nights were warm and clear. Water was clear and plentiful. We lived in peace and with much joy.”

“Were there many of you?” Mary Ayer asked.

“A family tribe,” Argos said. “My mother and father, my mother’s sisters and their mates, all the children. I knew of other members of our family, but if they existed, I never met them.”

Argos nodded.

“It was perfect in every way, except. . .” Argos nodded.

“Except?” Em asked.

“There were two trees,” Argo said.

Mary Ayer gasped. She covered her surprise by putting her hand over her mouth.

Em blinked.

“It was forbidden to go to the trees,” Argos added.

“Why?” Em asked.

“There was an ancient warning that if you ate from the fruit of either tree, everyone would die,” Argos said. “The trees were the altars for all of our ceremonies. Elders buried our dead near one tree, because it was known to create great transitions. Elders left offerings to the other tree, as an offering was known to increase a person’s understanding of the world. The trees were so sacred that no child was allowed to even view them.”

Argos stared off into space for a moment. Em and Mary Ayer’s eyes caught over his head. Em nodded in agreement. He was talking about Eden.

“Everyone knew this to be true,” Argos said. “We saw these trees interact with the world. Their roots went deep into the soil, and their braches nearly touched the heavens. They were given to us by the great I am, the creator. To most of us, they
were
the I am.”

“Did the trees have names?” Em asked.

“
haChayim
,” Argos said with a nod. “And
ha-da'at tov va-ra
.”

“The Tree of Life and the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil,” Em translated.

Argos nodded in agreement. The young man shook his head and began to cry.

“What is it?” Mary Ayer asked.

“I should have never. . .” the young man said.

He collapsed into his sorrow.

Mary Ayer caught Em’s eyes over Argos’s head. Em shook her head that she didn’t know what to do. Mary Ayer gave an agreeing nod and put a comforting arm around Argos’s shoulders. They waited for the young man’s sobs to abate.

“What did you do?” Em asked.

Argos looked up at Em. His face was wet with tears and his nose running. As if he were a boy of five or six, Mary Ayer led him to the bathroom, where she helped him blow his nose and wipe his face. Unfailingly kind, Mary Ayer showed him the toilet and stayed to help him urinate. She even endured a few rounds of him flushing the toilet to see how it worked. She then helped the young man take a warm shower. When he returned, he was more centered and smiling.

While they were in the bathroom, Em laid out clothing that would fit him. She had to choose carefully, as these may be the only clothing Argos would have for at least a thousand years or more. Elder Argos had known her when she’d arrived with her father. She was fairly certain that the events that were happening now had happened in his past. Using magic, Em brought a pair of George’s favorite fleece-lined jeans and a long sleeved T-shirt from Boston. She decided to give him the wool sweater he’d been wearing. While he was showering, she infused the sweater with magic so that it would last him a long, long time. Mary Ayer helped him dress.

When he was finally comfortable, Em asked him the question she was fairly certain they had come all this way to ask.

“What happened to you?” Em asked

“I. . .” the young man opened his mouth.

A buzzing sound filled the air. Em saw the young man’s mouth move, but she couldn’t hear what he’d said. She looked at Mary Ayer, who shook her head. Em reached out to touch Argos.

They were transported from Orkney to a warm, beautiful settlement. Twenty family dwellings sat in a circle around a large fire pit. There was a goat or possibly a sheep on a spit over the coals of a fire. The warm breeze carried the smell of ripe fruit and flowering trees. The sun was just beginning to rise.

Em and Mary Ayer stood next to Argos. Their young friend looked as if he were five or six. His skin had shifted from suntan colored to a rich chocolate brown. His hair remained in tight braids.

“Argos!” A woman’s voice called from one of the dwellings. “Argos!”

The boy looked up at Mary Ayer and then at Em. His face broke into a bright grin, showing white teeth. He ran to the hut. They heard a woman chastise the young boy for making her worry. She led the boy out to the fire and began working on his hair.

“They can’t see you,” a man’s voice said.

Em looked to her left and saw the elder Argos standing between herself and Mary Ayer.

“So we can’t change this past,” Em said.

“You cannot,” Argos said. He turned and reached to hold Mary Ayer’s hands. “Your kindness healed a very broken part of me. I carried it with me for a millennium. I believe it’s why I became ‘Argos the Kind.’ I was kind because I learned from you that kindness was powerful. Thank you.”

Embarrassed, Mary Ayer could only nod. He kissed Mary Ayer’s cheek, and they turned back to watch.

“He is a wicked boy,” his mother said to his father. Her voice chided the boy but was kind.

“I am not!” Argos said with a laugh.

“He is a boy,” his father said with a chuckle.

“This boy will be the death of me one day,” his mother said. “I have too much to care for to deal with his adventurous attitude.”

His father laughed.

“Don’t give our eldest son so much grief, my love,” his father said.

“And why not?” his mother asked.

“He will be a leader someday,” his father said. “It’s good for him to have a chance to get to know our area.”

His mother shot a dark look at Argos’s father. His father laughed at her gloom.

“I will take him with me today,” his father said.

“Oh no, you don’t,” his mother said. “The boy will slip away when you are preparing for the hunt.”

His father kissed his mother.

“Don’t worry,” his father said. “He is a boy and will be a great man.”

Argos’s mother scowled to show her doubt, and Argos screamed a laugh. She gave him a hard kiss on his cheek.

“I love you, my boy,” his mother said.

“It’s time, my love,” Argos’s father said. “He needs to take his place among the men. They need to know him so that someday he will be able to lead them.”

“Please, Mama!” the child begged.

She relented with a reluctant nod. The worry on his mother’s face made his father laugh. She smiled at the sound of his laughter.

Around them, the settlement was beginning to wake to the new day. People joined the small family at the fire pit. While Em, Mary Ayer, and the elder Argos watched, they ate a meal of the cooked meat and what looked like yams. Argos’s mother brought her three other children out to the fire. She began breastfeeding her infant son. Argos’s father was cleaning his hunting gear and arranging for the hunt. Soon the fire pit was surrounded by young children, mothers with babies at their breasts, and men preparing for the hunt. They seemed incredibly happy.

Although the children called to him to join their play, Argos stayed close to the fire ring. It was clear that he did not wish to miss his father’s invitation to go on the hunt. When the time came, his father led the men of the village — including young Argos — from the village. The men carried spears, bows and arrows, and knives. Argos stayed close to his father so as not to miss anything.

Based on seniority and status, the men traveled in a line three across. Argos and his father were at the very front of the line. The men traveled five or six miles until they reached another, less-formal settlement. Like the other boys, Argos brought his father a fizzing, fermented drink and gave him the food Argos had carried from the settlement. The men lit the fires and settled in for the day. A few men practiced their hunting skills, while others told stories and drank the fermented drink. Argos’s father was counseling the other men near the fire.

“We aren’t going hunting?” Argos asked. His voice rang with disappointment.

“Not today,” his father said. “Today we do the important work of building our community.”

His father gestured to a line of men waiting to speak with him. Argos scowled.

“What shall I do, father?” Argos asked. He saw his great adventure of going on the hunt disappear before his eyes.

“Practice your hunting skills,” his father said with a dismissive wave of his hand.

“But I am an expert archer,” Argos said. “I can throw a man’s spear with great accuracy. I’m able to wrestle a man twice my size.”

“You are my son,” Argos’s father said with pride. “Now, continued peace in our settlement requires that I help these men resolve their issues. You may stay with me or go practice with the other boys.”

“Yes, father,” Argos said.

Argos ran to join the other boys, but Argos was not welcomed. He was much younger than the other boys and the leader’s son. After a half-hour of trying, the boy left the group of boys. He found a spot in the shade of a tall tree, where he could watch the other boys play. Jealous and lonely, Argos returned to the fire circle, where his father had been holding court, but found no one. Argos discovered his father sound asleep in his midday nap.

Unwilling to disturb his father, Argo decided to go exploring. He bypassed the area where the boys were playing by going in an entirely new direction. He found a clear trail and struck out on his own.

“Uh, oh,” Mary Ayer said.

Em, Mary Ayer, and the elder Argos had been silent observers of this day.

“Mischievous hands are the devil’s workshop,” Em said, putting a spin on the old saying.

“Indeed,” Argos said.

They followed young Argos along the path. A happy boy, Argos whistled a nameless tune as he walked. He reached a wide-open area and two enormous trees. The trees seemed to compete with the clouds for space in the sky. The trunks were at least ten feet wide. Both trees were heavy with fruit. Argos stopped to take a drink from the stream that encircled the entire area before entering the space. The young boy touched the memory stones placed for those who had died. He stood on the altar and looked out onto the open space. The bright look on his face reflected his delight.

“I was sure that I’d found an unknown place,” the elder Argos said. “I planned to return to my father. You can see. . .”

The elder Argos pointed to the young boy standing on the altar.

“I was sure my father would be so very proud of me,” the elder Argos said. “And that was not an easy feat.”

They watched the boy wander to the trees. He looked up into one tree before going to look at the other. He wrapped his arms around the second tree and marveled at its size. He went to check the first tree. Amazed by the wonder of the trees, the young boy watched them dance in the wind.

The wind brought him the scents of the luscious fruit. One tree was growing round, orange fruit while a mixture of fruit grew on the other tree. Some of the fruit was large while some was small. The fruit covered the rainbow in colors. While he watched, the fruit in this second tree shimmered in the wind. Only then did he realize that he was hungry.

As was common for the boys in his settlement, Argos ate fruit for his midday meal. Uncomfortable with the shimmering fruit in the second tree, Argos reached into the first tree and filled his arms with round, orange fruit. He sat down under the shade of the tree. The fruit was sweet and easy to eat. When Argos had finished his pile of fruit, he fell into a deep sleep.

“Did you dream?” Mary Ayer asked.

“If I did, I don’t remember now,” the elder Argos said.

The sun shifted in the sky at unnatural speed. The day had slipped into afternoon before the young Argos awoke from his nap. Panicked at being late, Argos grabbed the fruit pits left over from his feast and ran toward the men’s settlement. As he usually did, Argos threw the pits away at random. He slid into camp just as the men were packing up for the day.

“I had no idea where I’d been or, truly, what I’d done,” the elder Argos said. “I felt no guilt. When my father asked me if I’d enjoyed my day, I told him I’d had a wonderful day. We made plans for me to spend the next day with him. I felt proud of myself. I would no longer have to spend my days with the women and children. I had transitioned into manhood early.”

“You were no more than a child,” Em said.

“I still should have known,” the elder Argos said. “Everyone in the settlement knew the story and the dangers of the trees. But I was too busy running around and exploring that I’d had no time for stories told by old men.”

“You truly didn’t know,” Mary Ayer said.

“I had no idea,” the elder Argos said. “And I didn’t have any idea what had happened until centuries later, when I read the history of Tribe of Israel.”

“The bible,” Em said, and the elder Argos nodded.

“The five books of Moses, the Torah, which became parts of your bible,” the elder Argos said.

As if on fast-forward, the scenes unfolded before them quickly. The young boy greeted his mother with much love. His mother insisted on holding her young son for at least an hour. Because he knew he was returning to the men tomorrow, young Argos allowed his mother to cuddle and baby him. That night, his father announced to the entire group that his young son had transitioned to manhood.

The celebration was large. They were not only celebrating not only a boy’s journey into manhood, they were celebrating their next leader. Every household brought out their best food, wine, and beer. They ate, drank, and danced until the moon was high in the sky. Argos’s mother carried him to bed. A tear ran down her face as she kissed his cheek.

“I am proud of you, my beautiful son,” Argos’s mother said.

Argos fell asleep in his bed. Argos’s mother went to her own bed, where her infant son lay next to her husband. She picked up her son before realizing that he was dead. Screaming, Argos’s mother tried to wake her husband. Unable to wake him, Argos’s mother shook Argos’s father. He was also dead. Mothers’ screams now echoed throughout the settlement. Argos’s mother ran to where her other children were sleeping. The two younger children had also died in the night. Argos’s mother collapsed at her children’s bedside. Able only to crawl, she forced her body to crawl to Argos. She died at his feet.

All the while, the young Argos slept.

The sun was just breaking over the horizon when the child awoke. Getting out of bed, he saw his mother first. A crow was picking at her face, and flies covered her mouth and eyes. Horrified, Argos went from one family member to the next. He ran out into the settlement. House after house, he saw the same sight. Every member of their settlement had died during the night. Scavengers were starting to feast on their bodies. Without an attendant, the fire had gone out. Some large carnivore had carried off the meat prepared the night before.

Argos was completely alone.

The scene began to fade for Em and Mary Ayer. They were suddenly standing in the icy night air on the thin shelf outside of the elders’ cave. Em wrapped her arms around herself to keep warm. Mary Ayer moved in close.