Thawing His Heart

“Oh my God!” Richella heard her mother say from the other room.

A man had come in the middle of the night and woken up Richella’s household. Her father had answered the disturbance with her mother close on his heels. The man’s tone was very serious and Richella got a knot in her stomach.

“How DARE you!” her mother yelled again followed swiftly by a loud slapping sound.

“Why don’t you go in the other room dear and I’ll talk to Mr. Danforth” her father said next.

Her mother stomped out of the room and Richella hid behind a door so her mother didn’t catch her spying.

“She has been here all night William” Her father said forcefully.

“Jacob, she could have slipped out the window…or…” Mr. Danforth replied.

“Or what!? Witchcraft?! Is that what you’re suggesting? She was a baby when her parents were burned there is no way she learned any of it. Get that into your head.” Her father yelled back.

“You know she’s different. You saw the way Ruben took to her, the boy was under a spell Jacob.” Mr. Danforth yelled back.

“Richella has been HERE all night long” her father punctuated.

“Her name was written in the sand on the top of the cliff” Mr. Danforth said.

“What’s that suppose to mean?” her father asked.

“They think he was trying to reveal who his killer was” Mr. Danforth replied.

“As he was being pushed from the cliff he had time to write the killers name in the sand! Think about it for two seconds William!” her father yelled and slammed the door.

“Father? What’s happening?” Richella asked from the hall.

Her father sighed and rubbed his fingers through his hair.

“I’m not going to lie to you Richella because you’re going to hear it eventually. Ruben is dead.” her father said sinking down to her level.

Richella could feel something move inside her, she felt her face twitch and her father stood up quickly.

“Where were you tonight!?” her father demanded. He could have sworn he saw his daughters face shudder into another form.
“I had dinner with you after school, then you put me to bed” Richella said quickly.

Her father ran his fingers through his hair and said something that sounded like a prayer under his breath. Then pointed her to her room.

Richella couldn’t sleep that night. One because she kept thinking about Ruben and two because of what her father had told Mr. Danforth about her parents.

She knew she was adopted. Her parents had always told her they loved her more than her original parents so God let them keep her, but that was all they would ever say about her original parents. However her father had said they were burned, and that was a new fact she had to process. She was only 7 but she knew what being burned meant. She had been to a few witch burnings with her family, she was even told to place a burning torch on the hay at one of the ceremonies. Her mother had been so proud of her that day.

She tried to remember her original parents. Her face wrinkled at the strain, but she had no memories of them. They must have been witches if they were burned, and maybe it was true that they didn’t love her all that much. She was glad they hadn’t loved her because she didn’t want to learn witchcraft. The rosary was hard enough to remember let alone a bunch of spells and curses.

At some point in her thoughts she fell asleep.

A few days later her mother came home from main street with a gift for Richella.

“I bought you a new dress dear” Richella’s mother said. She didn’t look very happy to have bought the dress but Richella was excited.

“It’s black” Richella crinkled her nose when she saw it. It was pretty but it would have looked better in a red or green Richella thought.

“Yes uh…well put it on with your Sunday shoes and meet me downstairs. Quickly” her mother added.

“Do I get to go outside!!!!” Richella asked excited. She had been cooped up in the house since Mr. Danforth came calling and she was itching to get outside.

“Yes but you need to hold my hand the whole time. Do you hear me?” her mother asked firmly.

Richella nodded her head. Once her mother left she looked for her shoes then got dressed. Her whole family was downstairs, aunts and uncles, all in black clothes. They silently left the house and walked towards the church.

Richella noticed lots of other people walking in black clothes in the same direction. None of them walked on their side of the street though. Even if their house was on the same side as the church they crossed the street.

“Where are we going?” Richella asked.

“The church” her father answered coldly.

“It’s Tuesday” Richella pointed out.

Her mother stopped and bent down to meet her eye to eye.

“Remember Ruben? He fell off the cliff by the river a few days ago. He’s dead Richella we’re going to his funeral.” Her mother said smoothly.

Richella had heard it before but in the environment it clicked. The black dress, the sadness all around, church on Tuesday, and she began to cry. Her mother hugged her close and smoothed her hair.

She felt like she was being pulled in two different directions and that she was coming apart at her chest. She could feel the rip begin right between her ribs and she held onto her mother tight so she wouldn’t split in two. Her mother picked her up and began walking towards the church again.

When they got close she heard people near her whispering. She heard her mother’s foot hit the first step then the second, and then she stopped.

“You’re not bringing her in here” someone said.

“Phillip, don’t be naïve” her father said back.

“They don’t want her here, no one does” Phillip replied more firmly.

Her mother began to sob and a heavy door closed.

“Let’s go home” her father mumbled.

“That’s it! You’re just going to let them keep her from saying good bye? He was her BEST friend!” Her mother cried.

“I’m not going to bust down the doors of a church Mary!” her father snapped back. He had walked away from them by now.

They walked home in silence. When they got home Richella went to her room and sat by the window. She saw the people leave the church and go to the cemetery. She was sort of glad she didn’t go; it didn’t look like fun.

Her father came into the room and set down a tray of tea.

“Are you hungry Richella?” he said in a straight tone.

She shook her head. He took a deep breath behind her and flopped on the bed. For what seemed like an hour they sat like that. Father staring at his daughter, daughter staring out the window.

“I don’t know why, but I can’t stay mad at you for very long. Even now with all you have done.” Her father said more to himself than to her.

Richella didn’t know what he meant by ‘all you have done’ back then but now she knew he believed she had killed Ruben. She also knew now the reason he couldn’t stay mad at her was her veela influence.

The family was shunned by the town at first. They were finally pulled out of exile thanks to her mothers pies…or at least they thought it was the pies. Her mother would bake endlessly then send Richella to deliver the ‘extra’ pies to the neighbors. Every time Richella would visit a neighbor the man of the house would come out to accept the pie and shoo her away. Well she knew now the veela influence forced him to forgive her and subsequently the women of the house would have to follow suit. So soon enough things were back to normal.

The rip in her chest however stayed open for a lot longer. For years she would dream about playing with Ruben in a field. They would be having a great time, and then he would fall into a well or out of a tree. She would cry uncontrollably at the slightest memory of him or if she passed a place they use to play together. She visited his grave and kept it covered with flowers and pebbles, because she remembered he loved to throw rocks. She would go out to the cliff, which now had a very sturdy fence along the edge, and talk to Ruben.

She couldn’t let go like the other children her age. She missed Ruben terribly, she knew now she had loved him and how big of a mistake that had been.

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Kayla~ Thanks for sticking with me!!!