Page 18 of Damnation
He has been beside himself with anger, desperate to try her for her wrongdoing, but it had taken time to assemble everyone for a proper interrogation in the dead of winter.
Jonathon Corwin calls attention to the room before the jailer brings in Tituba. Her ankles and wrists are shackled, her feet bare, and her face lacking any real emotion as she stares at eachone of us assembled in the meetinghouse. When her eyes land on me, goosebumps appear across my skin, and I do not like it at all.
“Tituba, I think you ought know why you have been taken under arrest,” Corwin begins.
“I know what you all try to besmirch my name with,” she agrees.
“Are you saying it is not the truth Reverend Parris speaks?” John Hathorne asks from the corner of the room.
“Liar! She is a liar and an enchantress! Can you not all see? The culture she brings to our pure village, it tarnishes our life, our children. I place the blame on my own household for allowing it here this long. We must purge Salem of this evil at once!” Parris exclaims, jumping to his feet as murmurs echo in the room.
“Tituba?” Hathorne asks, directing his attention to the woman in question instead of our impassioned reverend.
“I have nevercausedthe shaking fits of Miss Betty.”
“But is thou a witch? Does thou perform witchcraft? Is your loyalty to the Devil himself, or Jesus Christ?” My brother intervenes from my right.
Tituba sets her sights onto my brother, that same hollow look upon her face as she takes him in and shakes her head.
“I do not accept your notions of religion, for they go against my own.”
“Do you hear that? She rejects our lord and savior! She is evil incarnate!” Parris begins again.
I frown at her words, as do many of the others, as Hathorne continues his interrogations.
“You reject the Church, but you are not a witch? Is that what you speak?”
“I do not claim such title,” she speaks cryptically.
Hathorne’s patience wanes as he glances to the guard, nodding his head. In the next moment, a club is pulled frombeside him as he hits her across the back. She cries out in pain, falling to the floor as he strikes her again and again. The scent of blood fills the meetinghouse, sickening my stomach with each blow, before Hathorne makes a ceasing motion with his hand.
The guard hauls a bloody Tituba to her feet, face to face with Hathorne as he speaks.
“I grow tired of your games. Speak truth in this moment, does thou practice magic?”
She remains silent for a moment before a sickening smile spreads across her face, blood spilling down her lip as she speaks.
“I do.”
“She admits it! Straight to the Gallows with you! Jailer, take her immediately to Gallows Hill,” Parris begins.
I rest my hand onto his arm, attempting to settle him. His eyes turn to me with outrage, but ‘tis enough to keep him silent as Corwin speaks.
“Agreed. We have no room in our perfect new world for the likes of you. Your evil may have originated elsewhere, but it will soon die as it ought.”
The jailer begins to take Tituba away as an evil laugh bubbles through her chest.
“Hang me at the Gallows, I have little care, but your troubles are far from over.”
“What does thou mean?” I sneer.
Tituba’s devilish smile turns to my own as she shakes her head, her lips sealed. Unrest begins stirring amongst the men as chatter rises.
“Does she mean there are more witches? In Salem?”
“Surely not!”
“Bring in the girls!” another exclaims.
