Page 5 of Damnation
Tis more than I have ever held in my hand at one time. I find myself quickly concealing the coins, stepping into Sarah’s shopto purchase as much food as I can manage for a pence while keeping the other five hidden, just as Thomas instructed.
Chapter Three
Thomas
“Where has thou been?” Ann interrogates the moment I step foot onto our land.
Irritation rises inside me as I move past her without a word.
“Has thou become hard of hearing, or simply too daft to understand the words I speak?” she sneers.
“Silence!” I command. “You hold no right for my agenda, nor the time spent achieving it. Though you often forget, I am your husband, you are my wife, and you will besilent!”
I am a better man than my father was, I have always tried to be, at the very least. My father would often speak to my mother like so. Watching as a young boy, I saw how it hurt her, and I vowed to treat my own wife better when the time came. If I had known I’d have married so painfully, I might not have made such insurmountable promises.
Moving through my home, several of my children are spread around in the main room. Ann is pulling on Elizabeth’s hair before shoving her to the ground. Sisters fight just as brothers do, but those two are the most nuisance of our bunch. Pair Ann and Parris’s daughter together, and ‘tis a frightful time indeed. My wife has much to teach that girl before she is ready for marriage, which is a feat I am unsure she will achieve on accountof the likeness she shares with her mother. Had my father not struck a deal with Ann’s involving a small fortune, I would not be in this position. Ann’s father knew what an ache his daughter was, just as I know my own. You will not see me wasting away money to marry her off, though. She must learn to be better.
Stepping through the doorway of my bedroom, I pause for a moment before reaching for the whiskey jar. I rarely take to drink in my home, but an exception must be made for this moment. Opening the top, I take three large mouthfuls before resting it on the table. The harsh sting is accompanied by a soothing warmth that tempers…everything. My irritation, my exhaustion…my desire.
Pulling out my journal from my coat pocket, I flip open the black leather book, reaching for a feather and ink as I begin.
I saw her again this day. Instead of averting my gaze as I often do, I held it. I held it for so long that my feet carried me to her, as if I were not of my own control. As if God himself had thrust me towards her. As I shared the very air she had just exhaled, I reveled in being so near to her.
My heart was pounding so loud I could hear it in my own ears. My eyes roamed over her from top to bottom, from her well worn blue and white dress to her bare feet. She has close to nothing, yet she embodies…everything. She is warmth and kindness; she is perseverance and strength. She is light…a light I hath found myself drawing dangerouslyclose to with little to no moral confliction. What has thou done to me? As if she had commanded I am hers and, just so, I have no qualms or opposition.
God, forgive me for the sinful thoughts that ravage my mind when I am near her. Forgoing all that I know about her situation as well as my own, I want her. In every way God has created possible, I desire her more deeply than a man starved desires nourishment.
Taking a breath for a moment, I shake my head. I must banish these sinful notions. I am, after all, a Puritan man first and foremost. A man of God, and a married one at that. Just as she too is married. No woman is worth an eternity swimming in rivers of hellfire. Though, dare I be so bold to think that Sarah Good very well falls close. The closest this land has ever seen, I have no doubt of it.
From her shining green eyes to her skin as smooth as milk, she is perfectly made in God’s image, and I cannot stop the way I yearn for her. The way I always have. The moment my skin touched hers, though, I knew my strength would be tested. My morals. My faith. Sarah Good will no doubt be my greatest rise and my sharpest of falls. If I allowed her so.
I cannot allow this of her.
I oversee my staff as they harvest this year’s crops when a figure catches my attention yonder. My feet are moving before I command them to do so, carrying me closer to the road and further from my responsibilities. I ought not know how my gut knew it was her before my eyes could so plainly see. Somehow, I just knew, and now Sarah Good is a short stone’s throw away,walking from door to door, though she misses my own as well as my brother’s.
I watch as she approaches the Abbey home. My ears do not catch their conversation, but I can hear well enough the argument they are having before Jonathan Abbey slams the door inches from her face.
Sarah turns away, muttering something beneath her breath as I cross the road, inserting myself into her path. She startles for a moment as her eyes come to me.
“Mr. Putnam. My apologies, I did not see you.”
“You need not apologize for the path I have chosen to walk, though I will accept one in honor of your excessive formality,” I say, giving her a barely there grin to show my playful intent.
She accepts it with a smile of her own as she nods.
“Thomas,” she whispers, so sweetly ‘tis like sugar to my ears, no matter the ridiculousness of that thought.
“What adventures does this day bring to you?” I ask.
Her smile slips away as a far off look takes over her face.
“The same one I walk each day, I suppose.”
The air between us hangs heavily for several moments before she looks back to me once more.
“And you?”
I slip my hands into my pocket, not attempting to hide the golden pocket watch tucked inside my coat. Her eyes move to it, transfixed by the glinting metal in the shining sun. I am not a modest man, and I have never attempted to convey such. I am proud of what I have earned, of what I have built, and I do not hate the position and favor it gains me from others in return.
