30/10/2006 10:37:00

(It's Alive!!!!)

Chapter 8: The Wine Ghost's Tale; Pt. 1

"Though I suppose it really started when my sister grew ill. For us, at least.

Sarah and I were orphans, and indentured to a rising family attempting to raise fruit crops in the newly formed Derytown.

Sarah could no longer continue working the orchards every day in the harsh sun and choking humidity, so our master transferred her debt to the local parson, a grandfatherly gentleman of fifty years. His wife had recently died, he had no children and needed help around the home. I seemed like the perfect solution for us except for one thing.

"I don't want to go!"

"Now Sarah," I repeated for the fifth time that day, "You want to get better, don't you? You'll be able to stay out of the sun and rest more. Have I ever lead you wrong?"

"You told me I wouldn't get sick on the boat."

I gave a wry smile. I had meant scurvy or something bd like that,not seasickness.

"But I was right about the colonies, wasn't I?"

"It's pretty."

"And when you weren't sick you said you liked working."

"It wasn't terrible." She gave me a piercing look, which I just laughed off. Sarah had never been fond of change, but I'd always been able to talk her into new things before.

"Well, you'll love Reverend Williams. He promised that after the day's work he would sit down and teach you to read." Her eyes sparkled as she squealed and gave me a flying hug. I admit I was a little jealous. We'd grown up poor in London. Our parents had scraped to provide what they could, and surviving had left little time for bible studies or reading. Sarah had always been a clever girl, always joking, making dolls from scraps she'd found, and surprising our parents with her wit and wisdom.

And after our parents died I'd promised I'd take care of her and make sure she got the life she deserved.

I kissed her on the forehead and lifted her up by her waist into the air, causing her to squeal with delight.

"Fly little Angel! Fly!" I laughed as she flapped her arms and giggled.

I lowered her into the back of Reverend Williams' cart.

"Aww," Sarah moaned. She gave me a sad look and I kissed her again.

"Don't worry, we'll see each other again, and you'll like Rev. Williams. I promise."

She gave me a small, hopeful smile as Williams snapped his reigns and his weathered old horse pulled the last of my family down the worn trail under the dense, moss draped forest and out of my sight.

…….

According to town gossip, Rev, Williams was as good as his word, and my sister did well under his roof.

I saw her from time to time when I could make it to the simple church in the town square on Sundays. We would sit in the back pew, somberly listening to Rev. Williams' sermons. Or we would sleep through them, depending on our moods. He had an easy, conversational tone and a gentle voice. He preferred to read stories from the bible then discuss what they meant to our sleepy little town.

He was a good man, respected, and the sort you would go to for wise counsel. He was kind to my sister and patient as she slowly recovered her strength. He was confident that if a person was god in their heart and strived to be good in their actions, then god would lead them through.

Which was why everyone was devastated when one night he passed away.

"He was fine last night!" Sarah sobbed, soaking my the front of my shirt with tears. "He was writing and mumbling over his bible when I went to bed, and when I got up this morning he was-" her voice broke off into more sobs.

"It is strange," the doctor agreed. "He hadn't been ill or anything. But then, sometimes God just calls us away without any warning."

I nodded dimly as I patted Sarah's head.

"And he was getting on in years," Phillip Lemon, my master's eldest son agreed.

Williams was carried out the front door, a sheet draped caringly over his body. The Doctor had closed his eyes, Lemon had placed two coins on them, and I had tied his jaw shut with a piece of fabric, all according to our own traditions.

"He was a good man." Lemon said for the third time that morning. "I'll see to it that he gets the burial he deserves. It's the least I can do for all the things he's done for my family."

"For all our families." I added.

"But what will we do without a minister?" asked another man." who will perform the marriages? The Funerals? The Baptisms?"

"He- he said he had an old friend coming to visit," Sarah sniffed, pulling her face out of my shirt. "A fellow minister. They were going to talk about some things they'd noticed and trade ideas."

"Well, that's fortunate. If he was a friend of Williams then he'd be a fine replacement." Lemon said.

Sarah let loose another howling sob and buried her face in my shirt again.

"Not that anyone could ever replace him!" Lemon raised his hands in front of his defensively, trying to calm her.

"No one can replace him." I said, "But don't cry for him too much. Remember, he's gone on to a better place- and a well-deserved rest after all his years of good works."

She gave a weak smile and hugged me a little tighter.

"When is this friend supposed to arrive?" the doctor asked.

"About a week from now." She said, still hanging onto me.

"Well, you can stay with your brother and us until we find you another position." Lemon offered. "And we'll start making preparations for Williams' funeral. I'm sure his friend will want to pay his respects."

……..

It wasn't a week later when the friend arrived, but the very next day. He arrived early, before the sun had quite peeked out from beneath the trees, a strange fog pulling out as he strode into town. The brim of his dark hat was pulled low over his eyes, and he carried no cases.

And if I'd known what tragedies his arrival foretold for us all, I would have shot him dead then and there."

………

(I apologize sincerely for how freakin' long this took. Yeah, so we're changing gears now. In case you've forgotten the last chapter, this is the Wine Ghost telling the story of how he met the Bishop.)