2

Dwight, Vince and Dave were gathered around the kitchen table, listening as Prudence Stillwater relayed the tale of how she came to be accused of witchcraft.

Dwight was still flabbergasted-he just couldn't wrap his mind around the fact that she was still alive after being shut in a metal box and dropped into the ocean almost five centuries ago. If Duke were her relation, he pondered, then that meant that she shared his Trouble-and in fact, could be the very first Crocker to have been cursed.

"You were accused of witchcraft," Vince said as delicately as he could. "Was that because of your Trouble?"

Prudence smiled ruefully.

"Somewhat," she answered truthfully. "I am afraid I had always been on the edge of suspicion even before then. I was a healer and herbalist," she went on. "There is Mik'Maq in our family lineage-my grandfather was a shaman, and he taught me their ways-their magic."

"When did-" Dave asked.

"When was I formally accused?" Prudence finished for him. "It began after they came into Haven," she said with not a small amount of heat in her voice. "People began to be ill in ways I had never seen before."

"The Troubles started," Dwight put in. "Mara and William showed up."

Prudence's face showed her anger at the mention of their names.

"Do you mean to say those minions of Satan are still here?" she asked, her voice strained.

"No. William was cast back into the void, and Mara-"

"She is still here then," Prudence nodded, her face grim.

"Um-yes and no," Dwight added.

Prudence looked skeptical. "Well, which is it, man, yes or no, it cannot be both," she told him sternly.

"We'll try and explain it as best we can," Vince added quickly. "But please, Prudence-finish your story, and then we can discuss it."

Prudence settled back into her chair, and drew a few calming breaths before she began her story again.

"As I said, people had become ill with these-afflictions," she went on. "I tried to treat them with conventional medicines, with no success, and finally, in a moment of desperation, I tried something that my grandfather had shown me-and it worked."

"You cured a Trouble?" Dave gaped. "How did you do it?"

"I cannot explain it, not in any way I could tell you. But I could show you, perhaps. You said that you were Troubled, Dwight," Prudence continued, turning toward him. "What is your Trouble, precisely?"

"I'm a bullet magnet-if a gun goes off a hundred yards around me, the bullet comes towards me," Dwight told her. "That's why I wear this," he gestured at the flak vest.

"She is a devil, that one," Prudence muttered. "This is a strange request to make, Dwight, but could you inflict a small cut on your hand?"

"So your Trouble is like Crocker's," Dwight said.

"What do you mean?"

"When your-descendant-touches Troubled blood, his eyes turn silver, the same color as your eyes."

"No doubt they thought that an amusing touch," Prudence remarked dryly. "But he can only cure the Trouble through killing someone though, is that correct?"

Vince, Dave and Dwight all nodded.

"I thought as much. William informed me of that the night before I was shut into that box, that they had-altered-my family's ability to cure the curses he and his woman had inflicted, that the only way the Crockers could cure from then on would be to kill someone of an accursed person's family."

She exhaled, hard. "I had continued to treat the afflicted in secret as best I could. Some I could help-others I could not," Prudence went on in her gentle voice. "And then Haven gained a new minister," she added. "The righteous Reverend Amos Flagg."

"I once saw a bulletin about him-that he was one of those witches-are-everywhere types," Dave said.

"He was a hateful, vengeful man who dared to masquerade as a Christian, who rained fire and brimstone with every sermon he preached, that we were all doomed to die a fiery death, unless we renounced our sins," Prudence stated firmly. "He declared himself a finder of witches. He had come to Haven to save it from the accursed and inflicted, and to find the source of the evil."

"That sounds familiar," Dwight grumbled, the late Reverend Driscoll coming to mind. "And you were accused."

"Not straight away-suspected, yes, but so were half the women of Haven," Prudence said. "I am of the opinion that the good reverend hated the fairer sex." She sipped her tea, and then spoke again.

"Mara and William found out that I was curing the afflictions that they had created," she went on. "She ordered me to stop. But I was determined to stand up to her. Little did I realize how outmatched I was," Prudence grimaced. "I told her that I would tell the reverend that she was the cause of the miseries of Haven, which would make short work of her and her companion. To which William grabbed my arm, and said that I would have a hard time proving it when I would be accused of witchery myself."

Prudence took another sip of her tea, glancing at her audience's faces, who were listening raptly.

"I thought it only a bluff," she said. "But a few days later, I was marketing in the town square when William appeared from a group of men talking on the green and pointed at me, saying, 'Prudence Stillwater, I accuse you of witchcraft' in a voice loud enough to be heard on the mountains. The Reverend Flagg also happened to be there. He asked William if he could prove his accusation. William stated that he could, and then he drew out his pistol and fired it at me. The shot hit me in the chest, and I fell."

"But you didn't die," Vince said softly.

"No, I did not. I should have, it was a mortal wound, and yet after a few minutes, I opened my eyes and stood up. My clothes were bloody, but there was no wound in my chest. Needless to say, it was all the proof Reverend Flagg and the council needed to accuse me of being in league with the Devil. He proclaimed me to being the cause of the Troubles, and I was arrested on the spot."

"They tried you for witchcraft," Dave said. "And found you guilty."

"You should have heard the stories that were told about me in that mockery of a trial," Prudence replied. "That I ate children, that I'd been seen dancing naked with devils, that I was cavorting with other women's husbands," her voice broke. "My own Daniel saw his chance to get back into his family's good graces and told his father that I had seduced him into marriage through magic; and my children were treated as pariahs. On All Hallow's Eve in 1515, I was marched to the gallows and a rope placed around my neck. The order was given, and I fell through the trapdoor. And again, I failed to die," Prudence got out, tears streaking her face. "This threw the town into a frenzy-they tried to stab me, shoot me. They tied stones to my legs and tried to drown me, they tried to burn me at the stake in front of my children," she cried, Vince taking her hand in his compassionately. "But all of their efforts failed. William was the one who came up with the solution to their problem," she sniffled. "To lock me in the metal box he had designed as being supposedly witch-proofed, and to cast me and it deep into the sea, never to be seen again. And that is what they did with me."

"How truly awful," Vince said sincerely. "I can't imagine what you have been through."

Prudence wiped her eyes, straightening up in her chair.

"It is all in the past now," she replied softly. "But if Mara still be here, so do the miseries she inflicted upon this town. I will do what I can to fight her."

"But your family's Trouble was altered," Dave pointed out. "A-and Mara doesn't technically exist anymore-only Audrey does now."

"My family's curse was altered-but not mine," Prudence told him.

"If you're the first Crocker to be Troubled, then it should work as it did before the alterations were made," Vince observed.

"I am not certain if I can completely cure someone anymore. I am long out of practice, I fear. However, I am willing to try if you will allow me to, Constable."

Dwight took his knife out once more, and made a small cut on his thumb.

Prudence reached out, and took his hand in hers, pressing his bloodied thumb against her palm. She gasped, jerking slightly, and for a moment, they were afraid she was going into seizures. Vince reached for her, but she stopped him.

"No, do not-I am all right," she gasped. "Don't touch me, I could accidentally transfer it to you."

Vince backed away, Dave giving her and Dwight a wide berth as he watched.

"Prudence, if it's hurting you, stop," Dwight urged.

"So much pain this has caused you," she got out. "My discomfort will last but a few moments. Yours has lasted long enough." She clung tightly to Dwight's hand. At length, she stopped shaking, and let go of his hand.

"How do you feel, Dwight?" Vince asked.

"I don't feel any different," Dwight said. "But I didn't feel any different when my Trouble began either, till I was hit in Afghanistan."

"There's one way to know for certain," Dave pointed out, holding up a small revolver.

A short time later, Dwight entered Haven PD, a large grin spreading across his face.

"Looks like you're feeling chipper today," Nathan observed as he came to get he and Audrey coffees in the break room.

"I feel great," Dwight beamed.

"Hey, what was all that about a big box that washed up on shore we heard about on the scanner?" Nathan asked.

"Ah, it turned out to be an old ship's toolbox," Dwight answered, giving the answer Vince and Dave had cooked up. "Old Mack and Bill really thought they had something, but it wasn't. We told Bill he and Mack could always sell 'em on Ebay," he chuckled.

"Dwight, I don't think I've ever seen you in this good a mood," Nathan half-smiled. "Can you tell or is it some big secret?"

"For now, it's a secret," Dwight answered. "But if I'm right, then things are going to change in Haven, Nathan. For the better."

"That is good news," Nathan replied, now very curious.

Dwight clapped him on the shoulder and exited the break room, whistling.

Nathan had just finished pouring he and Audrey's coffees and was heading back to their office when it dawned on him that Dwight hadn't been wearing his flak vest.

He turned back, looking down the corridor where Dwight had gone, a mystified expression on his face.

"Something the matter?" Audrey asked from her desk.

"I don't know," Nathan answered, his face concerned. "Audrey, you know that feeling you get when there's a Trouble and nobody else knows it's a Trouble?"

"Yes," Audrey replied, getting up and coming to the door, her face concerned. "What about it?"

"I'm having that feeling right now," Nathan said.