"Good morning, lovies! Wake up and greet the morning!" called my mother's voice cheerfully from downstairs in the kitchen. She was banging the ladle against a frying pan, trying to get all her children up at once. All six of her children. We were three sets of twins, actually. The neighbors thought that it was queer to have three sets of twins. And we all seemed to live past infancy, which was not very common either.
But in all honesty; they didn't know the half of it. Sometimes I caught my father holding a wooden stick, and muttering exotic things that I didn't understand. My mother did the same thing, but only on her cooking. And this strange and unusual thing that my parents practiced was called magic. At least, that was what my big sister, Gunda said. She could be lying after all; she was eight and enjoyed telling stories. Just yesterday she told me she had made a spoon disappear. Ten seconds later it landed on my head. I didn't believe her for beans.
"Helga, tell Mother I don't want to get up," moaned my sister Brigitta, half asleep and turning over in her bed. My sister was six, like me, but didn't have half the energy that I did. I grinned mischievously. A plan was already forming in my head. It wouldn't hurt anybody, but it would definitely spice up the usually dull mornings.
"I'll do it Brigitta, don't you worry!" I chirped back, and I hopped down the stairs, my yellow curls bouncing with me. It wasn't long before I smelled the sweet scent of my mother's cooking. I wondered how sleep could hold Brigitta back from this.
"Helga, why are you still wearing your night things?" my mothered asked. She hadn't even looked away from her cooking, she just, well knew. It was always sort of chilling the way she just seemed to know things.
But I was a quick thinker, and I was especially good at making up stories, "Mother, Brigitta's throat is dry and she is coughing. She asked that I bring her water, as icy as possible." My mother stared at me for a moment, as if she was trying to look into my thoughts to see if I were telling the truth. I gave a small smile. I think she might have guess what I was up to, but my sister Korinna did not. She was eight, Gunda's twin and polar opposite. Korinna was a rule abiding girl who was always proper and already very motherly.
"Here you are Helga," she said, handing me a mug filled with cold water, and went back to preparing the table for breakfast. I stared for a moment, wondering what pleasure a person could possibly get from setting the table, and ran back up with the mug. By the time I got up to the room I shared with Brigitta, half the water had spilled out on the way.
I walked up stealthily to her bed, ready to pour it on her. And I was just about to do it too, when lazily she opened her eyes to stare at me, and sat up in bed.
"Helga? What are you doing?" she asked, rubbing her eyes. I still could have poured the water on her and ran, I suppose, but I couldn't. I told myself it was because she was awake, and that took away half the fun. But I knew in my heart it was because it was mean to do to your sister, even if it was fun. Sighing I put the mug in her hands. Confound my conscience and its meddling ways!
I ran back down the stairs, now wearing a white sleeveless shirt and a plain brown jumper. My sister followed, wearing the same thing. We were almost impossible to identify, except to our family.
"Good, you're all up," said Mother, looking at the table approvingly. All of us were here, save my big brother Menno who was in his teen years, Gunda, and Father. They went to meetings at night, somewhere in our valley that I did not know. I don't know what they did, or why they went, either. Gunda wouldn't say, and Father said he'd tell me when I was older. I hardly ever spoke to Menno because he was always out with his friends when not with Father and Gunda.
"Mother, can we eat yet?" asked Brigitta impatiently. Her petite size, pale skin, and big blue eyes would have made anyone do anything she wanted, but not Mother. Mother always seemed to see past her whining and adorability.
"Shush, Brigi don't whine like that," scolded Korinna from across the table. I began to fidget in my seat; I drew in the dirt floor with my barefoot funny pictures of my family. Helmfried (twin of Menno) looked down and tried hard not to laugh. I grinned, Helmfried might be eight years older than I was, but he was my very best friend.
"It's alright Korinna," said Mother, than tried to occupy our waiting time with conversation, "so Brigitta, I trust you woke with a cold start this morning." I raised my eyebrows. So my mother had known!
"What do you mean? Oh, the water, yes, I wasn't thirsty yet when Helga gave it to me, so I watered the plants with it," said Brigitta stupidly. She watered the plants? Honestly, even I could come up with more creative things to do with a mug of water. I already had come up with interesting things, anyway.
Mother raised her eyebrow at the both of us, but said nothing. I was definitely in a very uncomfortable decision.
"We're home," my father's voice rang like a bell. Thank goodness he had come, it had distracted my mother from her creepy questioning. We all ran to greet my father, Gunda, and Menno. Well, I only greeted my father. I wasn't on the best of terms with the other two.
"Can we eat now?" asked little Brigitta softly. My father laughed. I loved the way he laughed, the way his whole face was consumed with the smile. It made me smile too.
"My, my Brigi, you have a big appetite for one so small. But yes, we can eat now," he said, picking her up in one arm and me in the other. He turned to me and asked, "How are you my little Helga? Have you gotten into any trouble yet?"
"Don't encourage her Alex!" my mother exclaimed, but she was smiling. My mother could never yell at Father, they just loved each other too much and were too happy in each other's company. I hoped that when I grew up, I would have someone to love and be happy and laugh with too. I never wanted my life to change, I liked things the way they were.
"Let the girl have some fun, woman," my father said jokingly to my mother, "so? Has anything interesting happened when I was gone. Anything you can't explain?" He looked serious about it, though he asked the question with a light heart. He asked the same question everyday, and I didn't understand why. I shook my head, no at him.
"I see," he said, and he sound disappointed. I hated to make my Father disappointed; he was one of the best people I knew. I lowered my head in shame. "Don't be sad Helga; it will come to you in time." Another one of his cryptic messages. What was he talking about? I didn't get a chance to ask, as we all sat around the table and began to pile food on our plates, eating it with our hands. We used to have these fork things, but we had to sell them because we needed to eat. We didn't have a lot of money, our family, but we always seemed to manage.
After breakfast, Korinna and Mother began to clean. Helmfried said he had to tend to the garden, and Menno had to go sleep, he was tired from spending the night wherever he was with Father and Gunda. Brigitta said she wasn't feeling well, and went back to our bedroom for a nap.
"So, my gentle ladies, would you do me the honor of accompanying me to the market?" he asked Gunda and me.
"I would, Father!" I jumped up from my seat eagerly. I ended up falling from the chair, onto my face. Gunda laughed at me. Then she helped me up, and asked if I was alright. Gunda was weird like that.
"Alex, you and Gunda should rest! You were out for most of the night, after all," said my mother. She was always concerned with our health more than anything, caring less about what we were thinking and more about if we were constipated.
"I have to go down to the market to buy us some supplies anyway. Besides, we haven't gone to town in more than a week. The neighbors might get suspicious," said Father. I wondered why he cared if the neighbors got suspicious. It wasn't there business to know what we did every moment of our lives. Although, someone should tell the neighbors that too, because whenever we went down to market, I felt like somebody's eyes were watching my every move, just waiting for me to falter. I told Gunda once, and she said I was paranoid.
But today, I found I had reason to be paranoid after all.
The market was a very dirty place, filled with very dirty people. Of course, I shouldn't be talking, I wasn't very clean myself. But I was fairly clean, compared to some of the people who walked around with an unbearable stench. It was believed that keeping a healthy coat of dirt around your body would keep the sicknesses from entering your body, but I thought it was a crazy idea. I don't think I was alone either. In Britain, I had heard there was a law that you must bathe at least twice a year. Not that it could be easily enforced. Ah- you have discovered another one of my bad traits, I tend to ramble.
I was alone in the crowd. Father had hurried off to see his friend, Johann and talk in private about important things. He had left Gunda in charge of me. I don't think that Father understood what a poor decision he had made. Within five seconds of his departure, Gunda was off with one of her friends. So what was a small, chubby, little girl with unruly yellow curls to do when she was lost in a crowd of people much bigger and much smellier than her? Explore, of course! I looked around all the carts, each with an owner, screaming out advertisements for whatever they were selling.
It was then that I bumped into Kuno. And by bumped, I mean literally. I fell into the mud then too. He saw me, and so did his friends. They were at least a year older and all much bigger than me, and they laughed.
"Little witch spawn fell in the mud? You should stay there!" he said maliciously, and spat. His spit fell onto my cheek. I brushed it off, and stood up.
"You gonna fight little witchling?" taunted one of his groupies. I fought within myself to hold my temper. I wanted to punch them all out so badly. But I knew Father didn't approve to violence, he said it was not the answer.
"Go away," I muttered, even though I knew that wouldn't help. They laughed at me again.
"Oh, look, the little witch is going to curse us!" Kuno and his friends were in hysterics. The anger was building up inside of me, yearning to get out of my chest and to be thrown off as punches at the boys. But I remembered I was weak, and I would probably hurt myself more than anyone else.
But how dare they call my parents witches! I knew what witches were of course, they were people who did evil things and hurt innocent children and used them for their potions. But my parents weren't witches; they were the kindest people I knew. They might say strange things, and have mysterious habits, but I couldn't see them being witches. But then, Gunda had said they used magic, didn't witches use magic too? I was lost in my thoughts, my confusion. So lost, I didn't realize I was knocked down to the ground again, back into the mud.
I got up again. I knew I could not fight them, and I couldn't speak, because words made them taunt me even more. But I would not give them the pleasure of letting them know that they had a full victory over me.
Kuno reached out at me with one of his big grizzly hands, and pulled me close to him so that I could smell his rancid breathe and see every spec of dirt on his pale face and in his pale hair.
"They're going to burn them, little witchling, every last one of them," he said in a deathly whisper. I felt my heart racing.
"I don't know what you mean," I said quietly, but that was only a half-truth. I didn't know who he was talking about, but I did know what he meant, and that was bad too. He was talking about burning witches at the stake. They did that in public, and I had seen a burning once. No one should have to go through that, no matter what crime they had committed. A burning was just as bad or worse as the crime.
"Don't lie to me witchling! My father and a few other good Christian members of this village found you out. They saw who was there at that- that witches circle they have at night, every night- that dastardly deed. They're going to burn everyone of them when they get there tonight," he laughed again. I coughed, his bad breath and body odor were overwhelming, and I could barely breathe.
"Don't cough your little sinful breath on me!" he said, disgustedly. If anyone should be disgusted, it should be me. He smelled worse than a rat!
"Remember, witch-brat. They're going to burn you're daddy, then your brother and your sister, and then-" he was interrupted by the entrance of my sister and her friends (all of them from families that were also considered "weird" like us) into the scene. There was about the same amount of them as there were of Kuno and friends, and Gunda's friends were the same size as Kuno's. So, he had lost the small and alone card.
"Kuno," Gunda addressed him coolly, leading her band of friends over to us. Each of them wore matching faces of resentment as they stared at him. Some looked angry, some looked somber, and some even looked scared.
"Gunda," Kuno nodded, his grip tightening on my forearm. I tried to shake his grip off, but it didn't help. I was a little weakling, and he was built to hurt people.
"Would you mind releasing my sister, Kuno? I don't want her catching that disgusting stench of yours," my sister raised an eyebrow, folding her arms. I heard knuckles cracking behind me, just waiting to punch out my sister's face. I hoped that they wouldn't all get in a fight over me. I was just little Helga, after all, nothing special.
"So, Gunda, Gunda's friends," said Kuno, who clearly didn't plan on answering the question, "how's the Devil been lately?" Gunda's eyes narrowed and another boy looked ready to kill. In fact, I think he was, as he walked over to Kuno and me.
"How dare you," he yelled angry, "make such false accusations? None of us have been consorting with the Devil, and how dare you tell such lies. If anything, it is you who is with the Devil." However, Kuno and company seemed unabashed.
"What you gonna do about it? Use your magic on me? We both know very well that even if you were to think about it you'd be hanged," taunted Kuno. He brought me closer to him, so that now I had no fresh air out all. I stepped on his foot hard, or at least, as hard as I possibly could. He winced, but I was still stuck.
"Yeah, yeah, what you gonna do about it?" added a small rat-faced boy excitedly. The others turned to him giving him what I call a Kuno-is-in-charge-not-you look.
"Shut up, Arnie," growled Kuno. Arnie the rat-boy flinched and backed into the group of other boys again. Gunda and her friends smirked. And somehow, out of nowhere, I felt a strange pull. Something was dragging me out of Kuno's grip, and I fell into the angry boy yelling at Kuno. He helped me up, and sent me to stand by my sister.
"You- you- you just," started Kuno, speechless.
"Very good Kuno, you're learning to form sentences," said Gunda sarcastically. The others all laughed in support of her joke, but I didn't. It was mean, and it made me feel the same as Kuno and his smelly friends.
"You used magic on her!" accused Kuno, "If I tell my father he'll-"
"He won't give a dime because we used it on one of our own," angry boy rolled his eyes, then turned to the rest of us, "we've no use of this waste of air and space. Let's go everyone." And the whole herd of them (including me, of course) walked off.
"Gunda, Gunda, Kuno said that- he said that his daddy-his daddy is gonna burn you!" I said, fumbling over my words. I noticed that everywhere this group went, people were watching, waiting. Always prepared to lift the accusing finger, ready to point out the witches among them.
"Kuno's stupid," she said, brushing off my words like she had heard them a million times, "don't listen to him."
"But-But, shouldn't I tell father?" I asked eagerly. Maybe I could stop this from happening, maybe I can save my father and siblings!
"Don't pay any attention to him kid, really, don't bother your father with such trivial things," said "Angry Boy" as I had just decided to call him. And I listened to him. When my father met my sister and I and took us home, I didn't say a word. At dinner, I didn't say a word. When I took a last glance at Father, Gunda, Brigitta, and the rest of the family before going up to bed, I didn't say a word. When my parents came in to kiss me goodnight, I said nothing. As I watched my father and siblings leave the house for one of the mysterious meetings from my bedroom window, I said nothing.
When Menno came running back, saying that the meeting had been ambushed, I listened, and I said nothing.
And when they came to our house, with their torches and their angry calls, I ran, but I said nothing.
And the very next day, when I returned to what was left of my home, once filled with so much laughter and bliss, I said nothing.
From afar I watched them bury the carcasses of my family, one by one. And then they buried a few other families as well, almost every one of Gunda's friends, even "Angry Boy."
I watched with wide eyes and closed lips. I wanted to scream out, to lament their deaths, but I was too afraid that if I were heard, I would meet my death too.
AndI said nothing.