Twelfth.
When I got to the square and looked around it seemed that everyone in town had the same idea as me. There was a group of older women sitting in the gazebo knitting and talking to each other, a middle-aged couple sat side by side on a bench reading, a young mother sat on the other bench with her new baby in her arms staring down and quietly singing as the baby took a bottle. Disappointed I decided to walk around the square while I waited for a bench to open up.
It was a beautiful day, the sun shone high in the sky warming my skin, birds flew from tree to tree each singing their own unique song, the scent of cinnamon from the bakery across the street floated on a soft breeze into the square. As I walked around taking all of this in it became obvious why Alexia had loved coming to visit Stefan. Kids were alternating between laughing and shrieking as they played tag, running in circles around the gazebo. I smiled, I had been traveling around for so many years that I hadn't realized how much I missed small town living, the simplicity of walking down the main street and being greeted by almost everyone I passed.
As I started my third lap around the square I suddenly heard something that snapped me back to the present. One of the little boys running around the square suddenly yelled out "Maddie's it, Maddie's it." My head snapped around, my eyes desperately searching for her as tears stung my eyes. It had happened many times before since the name had become very popular as of late. I felt my heart violently contract and then fall to pieces as it relaxed. I took a few backwards steps still watching the kids, and then swung around tearing my eyes away.
As I turned away from the gazebo I didn't have a chance to look up before slamming into someone knocking both of us off of our feet and sending the books she was holding in her hands flying. My tailbone made contact with the sidewalk sending a shockwave through my body and I groaned. I awkwardly righted myself despite the pain. "I am so sorry, I didn't look up when I turned around," I explained as I tried to help her gather her things that had scattered in the collision. I reached for a thick leather bound book that had landed a foot or so behind me. As I picked the book up I felt something strange, a vibration similar to that I had felt when I touched the large stone slab near what I now knew was the tomb.
I turned the book over and swept some loose sand off of it, then gasped when I realized what it was, a grimoire. I looked up at the girl for the first time, shocked, it couldn't be, could it? Lydia Bennett stared back at me, but it couldn't have been Lydia, she was dead and buried in Salem. I knew she was gone, I was there as she gave birth then as she took her last breath moments later having bled out before a proper midwife could be reached.
Now, looking into this girls eyes, I knew that she must be related, she looked so much like Lydia. I looked down at the grimoire as I handed it back to her and noticed the faint letters carved into the binding, E.B., Emily Bennett. "I am so sorry, are you hurt?" I asked her.
"No, no, I'm fine. I wasn't watching where I was going either." She assured me.
"I'm Norrah Christian," I told her. She smiled, shifting the weight of her books into her left arm and extending her right hand.
"I'm Bonnie, Bonnie Bennett," she told me as she extended her right hand. I reached towards her, but before we shook I realized that I had cut the palm of my hand in the fall so I pulled it back. I apologized one more time before we parted ways. After a moment I turned to watch her walking away.
Bonnie's ancestor Lydia and I had met in Salem, MA. in 1829. She was still in her teens and did not know what I was to my great relief. I had travelled out to Salem each summer for decades yearning to be by the sea in the warm months. She confided in me that she was a witch, showing me all kinds of spells that she learned. After a few years I felt obligated to tell her about me, and to my surprise she didn't run, in fact she took my hand and looked into my eyes and smiled. She told me that she could tell that deep down I was still the same person I had been as a human and because I was a good person she didn't feel threatened by me. I loved her all the more for accepting me for what I was as well as who. We remained friends for many years. I stood by as she married and had her two handsome sons.
In 1838 she got pregnant for the third time. We were both so excited that I stayed long past the summer so that I could be there with her when the baby came. We were both sure that this baby was to be the girl she had been praying for. Lydia told me that the baby was to be named Emily. Emily would be clothed in the most beautiful shades of pink, yellow, red and white. She couldn't wait until the baby was old enough that she could put her hair in ribbons and bonnets. Sadly she never had that chance. Lydia got one good look at her baby girl before the blood started, and then it was over so quickly. Poor little Emily would grow up without a mother. I held and rocked her as we both cried for Lydia.