The Old Cape House (5 page)

Hallett stood, reached for a broom leaning by the door and cut off Sam’s words. “Get away from here…I don’t want to see you near my daughter. She might be worthless but she’s still my property.”

Maria appeared in the doorway. “Father, now what’s the
problem?”

Sam remained in his stance, all the while glancing back and forth between father and daughter. “I see that I’m not welcome here according to your father.”

Hallett waved the broomstick in circles, lunging its end at Sam as if it was a sword. “Get off my land!”

Maria cried out, “Stop this!” and jumped between them.

“Get out of the way, stupid girl.” Hallett hit Maria on her
shoulder with the wooden handle of the broom, pushing her to the ground. Before he could strike her again, Sam caught the broom and broke it in half. He threw the broken pieces to the side and grabbed Hallett
by the scruff of his neck. “Listen to me, old man, if I ever find out
that you’ve harmed your daughter, in any way, I’ll make sure that you never lift anything again.” He let go. Hallett crumpled to the bench.

Maria lay on the dirt. Sam picked her up in his arms. A bruise began to swell on the nape of her neck as he carried her into the house and to her bed. He found a clean cloth, wet it with cool water, and placed it on her neck. “I’m sorry that I’ve caused such pain for you. I can’t stand to see you hurt.”

“Sam, I’ll be fine. It’s not your fault. My father has a nasty
temper. It’s his drink and when he has no drink, he’s just plain ornery.”

He sat next to her on the bed. “I best be going. Your father
doesn’t want me here. But I must see you again.”

She sat up slowly. “Tomorrow is the Sabbath, but Monday we’ll
meet.”

Sam agreed. He cautioned her, “I’m fearful for you in this house.”

“Go,” Maria whispered. “Monday we meet. I’ll be fine.”

He kissed her and left.

As Sam passed through the doorway to leave, he noticed the old man had finished his drink.

Under his breath, Hallett slurred, “And stay away.”

April 1715

EASTHAM – CAPE COD

MARIA CHOSE HER CLOTHES CAREFULLY
as she readied herself to go to meeting on Sunday Sabbath. She picked out a large plain handkerchief to conceal the bruise on her neck and a thick shawl to go over her shoulders. She wanted no one to notice her today. Her father was asleep as the young girl left the house.

On her walk to the church, she joined with other neighbors
fulfilling their obligatory honoring of the Sabbath. As Maria came closer to the meetinghouse, she encountered nods from a few elderly ladies, but nothing welcoming.

She found her place in the upper balcony, where seats for the
poorer members of the community were relegated. As Reverend
Treat
began to speak, his words mingled with the thick, warm air that
drifted upwards toward Maria. It made her sleepy. Within seconds, the face of her mother, Sarah Hallett, appeared in her thoughts. Maria missed her so much and longed for the soft touch of her mother’s hand, her laughter, the lullabies and rhyme they would sing in secret as they did their daily work. She never understood how a song could be evil, but her church forbade such singing and dancing. Mother Sarah would always caution her daughter, “Remember, Maria, when out amongst the others, keep these melodies in your heart, so no ill will comes your way.”

She recalled the day her mother had told Maria of how she’d met her father, Thomas Hallett, and how sad she’d felt, knowing she would face an arranged marriage to an older man.

It had broken Maria’s heart to hear the story. She knew her
mother had always desired love and companionship but had settled for the
promise of security through a husband. The notion of a marital
match
for convenience was an evil Maria promised herself would never
happen to her. She smiled as she thought of Sam and how their
children would be happy and cared for within a marriage of love.

She sat up, straightened her shawl and looked around at the people below her. She noticed a man sitting in the far corner of the crowded church with similar mannerisms and a strong resemblance to her father; her smile fell off her face. Why did her father hate her so? He made her life so unbearable. How happy she had been with her mother. She winced as pain shot through her shoulder and neck, wishing she had rubbed salve across her bruise.

Glimpses of her past came to life in her thoughts. She pictured herself helping her sick mother at only seven years of age. As young as she was, she never forgot what was needed for her mother, yet she forgot her own medicine this morning.

Maria had always tried her best to care for her mother but it
wasn’t enough. When she had needed help she called on Minda, the Indian midwife. Her mother believed in the old Indian and accepted her comfort both in words and medicines. While they both loved Minda, Thomas Hallett hated everything about her. Even now, Maria must still hide Minda’s herbs and potions from her father. He despised them, calling her Indian ways ‘abracadabra’.

Lately, Maria missed the PowWah’s visits and the little gifts she brought her. The bouquets of flowers, beautiful shells from the sea, and scented waters meant so much to Maria. She wondered if Minda would come soon.

“…and the Lord hath said, ‘Work is blessed, and idleness is the work of the devil’....” Reverend Treat’s loud preaching startled Maria and she snapped open her eyes. Quickly glancing from side to side, she tried to see if anyone had seen her daydreaming. Thankfully, the congregation seemed to be lost in their own worlds. Once again her
gaze settled upon those meeting below her. She saw where the
Hallet
family had sat for services before her mother had died. She gently
massaged her throbbing shoulder and thought very quietly: Why
does father blame me for everything? I’m his daughter, not his
servant!
Mother always said I was a gift from God. Why can’t he think of me
like that?

Reverend Treat’s words became distorted and she was sure she heard him scolding her, “Obey your father!” She shook her head but the words then twisted into her father’s accusing voice. He growled that Maria’s birth had made his wife weak and caused her to spiral
into bouts of sickness, and eventually death. His condemnations
echoed in her head; “What am I to do? You’re nothing but a burden.”

Maria began to feel sick in her stomach at the image of how he always soothed his rage with his drink. When he was drunk she oftentimes feared for her life. Maria furrowed her brow and searched deep inside her heart for pleasant memories. She recalled her mother humming while baking at the broad table, flour swirling around in the sunlight; her mother’s wispy hair feathering out from under her linen cap. She’d always felt so safe with her mother.

“Maria, wake up.” Matthew, who was sitting beside her, gently shook her shoulder.

“Ohhh,” Maria winced at his touch.

Alarmed, her young friend asked, “What’s wrong? Are you all right?”

“Oh.... Yes,” she answered. As she leaned down to readjust her stocking, her handkerchief puffed away from her neck and revealed the bluish mark on her skin.

“Maria, what happened to you? Did your father do this?”

“It’s nothing,” she whispered, moving the cloth over to hide the bruise. “I hit my shoulder on the lug pole when I was cleaning the ashes from the hearth.”

 “Do be more careful, Maria. May I walk home with you today?”

“Of course, I would enjoy that.” Matthew’s presence always reminded her of how happy she was when they had been childhood friends and when her mother was still alive. Now older, they didn’t see each other as regularly as Maria would have liked. Matthew was usually away fishing with his father; he only stayed home during inclement weather.

As the two friends walked over the crest of a hill and towards their houses, Matthew surprised Maria when he asked, “When I was home the other day, I saw you sitting on the bench outside the door of the old McKeon house. What were you doing there?”

Maria stammered, “Oh...I...just went for a walk and was feeling a little tired. That’s all.” She quickly changed the subject. “How are your parents?”

Matthew was oblivious to her words; he was lost in the details of
Maria’s delicate lips as she spoke. They opened and closed in soft
movements, touching each other the way he longed to feel them
against his own lips. He wanted to hold her arm as they walked but thought he should not. It wouldn’t be right.

Maria turned her head towards Matthew and asked again,
“Matthew, how are your parents?”

“Oh...they’re fine.”

Embarrassed at his inattention to her question, he took a deep
breath and blurted out, “Father is having a good year on the boat,
and Mother’s gout is much better.”

Maria returned a smile to Matthew, unaware of his secret
thoughts. She was only thinking of Sam holding her...kissing her...anticipating her meeting with him again.

As they came to Maria’s house, she turned and said, “Good bye Matthew. It was nice to see you.”

He tipped his hat in silence; placed one hand in his pocket and waved goodbye with the other.

Maria hurried into the house to gather the items she was going to bring to her next meeting with Sam. She never noticed Matthew as he walked away, because if she had, she would have seen him looking back for glimpses of her as he loudly berated himself for not saying what he felt in his heart.

April 1715

EASTHAM – CAPE COD

THE MORNING FOLLOWING THE SABBATH,
Maria waited for her father to leave for the landing dock to get his supplies from Barnstable. After he’d gone, she rushed out the door carrying her basket close to her, being careful not to drop anything as she hurried toward the pine grove to meet Sam.

Maria found him waiting by the McKeon house. When Sam saw her, he ran down the path to meet her halfway. He plucked the basket from her hand, grabbed her around the waist, twirled her once in the air and then kissed her. “I missed you, my Maria.”

“I, too, missed you.” She kissed him back with equal passion.

Arms entwined, they walked the short path to the old house.

As Sam closed the door behind them, the dust and shabbiness of the deserted house seemed to disappear for both of them. Their eyes
could only see each other, and their bodies filled with a yearning
that flowed quickly between them. Few words needed to be spoken. Sam and Maria understood each other. Lustful passion took control of
their bodies and as the hours lingered for the lovers, they each
satisfied their deep desires.

***

Sam spoke just as the sun began to set for the day. “Maria, tomorrow I must leave.”

Her eyes moistened. “Oh, Sam, can’t it be another day?”

“I’m sorry. The winds are in our favor, and my men await me.” He gently assured her, “Don’t worry.”

He rolled his strong body over hers. Looking into her eyes, he continued, “I may only need to be away from you a short time, but if not, you must remember I will return for you with my ship filled with riches.” He leaned closer and whispered in her ear, “I will carry a wedding ring next to my heart to give to you upon my return,”
and then in her other ear, “I promise to take you as my wife.” He
moved next to Maria and traced the outline of her lips with his fingertip as he murmured, “Stay the night with me.”

She softly kissed his finger and then his lips. Stroking his long black hair she wrapped her arms around his strong back, pulling her body closer to his as he entered her again.

Maria fell asleep in Sam’s arms.

He wanted to hold her forever. As the night grew darker, the song of the whippoorwill and the gentle breezes of the spring night accompanied the two eager lovers as they surrendered to a night of contented slumber.

***

Early dawn came too quickly. Sam had held Maria as long as he could but knew it was time for him to take his leave. He pulled his arm from underneath the nape of her neck, kissed her on the cheek and prepared to leave, hoping not to wake his beloved. Goodbyes were difficult for Sam and it took all of his courage to step quietly into the early-misted morning without waking her. He paused in the doorway, looked back once more, and whispered, “Be safe, my Maria...I will love you forever and will return to you.”

He then ran with all his strength towards the harbor for fear that his feelings for Maria would make him turn around and go back. His
face and body, wet with perspiration, mingled with his tears,
concealing his overwhelming sadness. He hoped others would not sense his heartbreak. The pounding of his body against the dirt path and the rapid beat of his heart kept him focused on what he must do. Once at the landing, he caught a packet to Provincetown where, later that night, he would set sail with Williams.

***

Maria woke with the memory of their last night in her heart and thoughts. She stretched her arms lazily above her head. When her hand fell to the side she realized Sam was gone. She sat up calling his name, “SAM!” Her heart sank.

Grabbing her shawl, she ran out of the old house and down to
the sea, hoping to catch a glimpse of Sam as he sailed along the
coast. As she ran, she knew that she had slept too long. He was nowhere in sight. Angry with herself that she had missed him, she ran up a high bluff to see the coastline. Breathless, she reached the top of the bluff and screamed over and over, “Sam! Sam!”

Her futile calls exhausted her and she collapsed to her knees. She
reached deep inside her thoughts, trying to encourage herself to
believe:
He WILL be back…he had promised. I must not be sad. He WILL return.