Upstate New York
October 1783
"Thomas, get your brother!" Ailis ordered with conviction. She scurried along from her kitchen to the front yard of her cabin holding her fresh baked apple pie tight to her chest. Her pace quickened as her thoughts turned to the friendly gathering, she had longed for, for weeks. It was not often she was able to visit her friend's house; this night was very special. She was trying to maintain the pie's warmth and sweet-smelling aroma as she led her family of five towards her friend's house. She forged ahead leaving the uninspired behind as they shuffled their weighted feet along the friendly dirt path.
Ailis Parker's confidence and determination exuded from her very being. It touched every aspect of her life, yet there was nothing noticeably special about her, and nothing could distinguish her from any other woman in her village. She was a strong, though shorter than average, woman in her late twenties married with two young boys and full of life. Her family was everything in the world to her, and the sole reason for her being so happy.
She had quiet green eyes and her bright red hair stood as a beacon to her family far behind her at this moment. Dropping deeper into the darkness as the sun fell behind the hills, she stopped and turned, spotted the fading gray images of her family and sighed. Her husband, Alfred, was a veteran of the War for Independence and his deep limp reminded everyone of the sacrifices needed to exist in the New World. He was strong in heart, but weak in body. He tried to assist with chores and gladly helped whenever it was needed, but Ailis understood his plight. It was just two years after the Battle of Yorktown and the devotion to work, prosperity and family were in her every thought. Her two boys, Thomas and George, were well-behaved young gentlemen and never challenged her words. The Parker family was close and had many friends within the village, which made it easier to protect themselves from local swindlers, rovers, and the surrounding wilds of the unknown. Life became quiet and dull, filled with gatherings, visits and conversations.
Alfred limped along with quick determination, desperately trying not to delay the group. Her two sons Thomas and George walked close to their father as they eyed their favorite living creature in the world, their Irish wolfhound Cuchulainn. Abigail's red cheeks and red nose now matched her chapped lips in the season's chill, and her patience began to fail as she saw Cuchulainn run off into a field and away from the group. "Thomas!" Ailis shouted as her eldest son chased Cuchulainn into her friend's dark, empty field. "We must make haste!" she exclaimed and, hesitating a few moments, gave out a big sigh of resignation. She turned and walked ahead, finally spotting the familiar frame of her friend's house.
The house of Elizabeth Robinson stood apart from the town. It was an independent farm built by Martin Robinson's own hands, with a strong and sturdy house able to protect against the heat of summer, the strongest winds of autumn and the coldest nights of winter.
Ailis stopped again as her patience began to wane, "Alfred, I'm sorry but we must move faster." Alfred was a strong man, and with great reluctance, approached the end of his youth pushed forward by the expired Revolutionary War. His memories of the war still lingered with the bullet lodged in his leg. He winced in pain with every step but never complained. His life was good, a good family with a warm house, friends and no war to fight. However, his young face hid the scars of war. His mind held life's horrors that grab hold of a man who had experienced war. He was helpful around the house and never raised his voice; he was just happy to be alive. Ailis knew this and understood his struggle. He was once the strongest man in the world. Now, he is calm and tempered, tamed by war and the love from his family.
The dark evening enveloped them. The sun faded, swallowing the town into darkness and making her later than she had hoped. Her family finally caught up with her smiling and happy to see their matriarch and to stop walking. "We were to be there before sundown. She'll be worried," Ailis spoke in a low determined tone, aware that Cuchulainn remained roaming the dark surrounding land.
"Thomas, get Coo!"
"Mother, he's all right. He's just playing about," Thomas spoke as he spotted, off in the distance, a dark, dreary house; it was their destination. Ailis continued, "I said get hold've'im. Cuchulainn's only a puppy. Don't make me repeat myself. He's not two yet and has no idea what he's doing and what's about him. Now do as I say." Thomas quickly acquiesced, "Ok. But he's too fast." As Thomas ran into the dark field, he shouted, "Coo, com'ere boy." In a matter of seconds, Cuchulainn was seen racing towards Thomas. Cuchulainn lunged at him and bowled him over with ease. The two melted into a pile of energy and joy. Cuchulainn was large for his age, weighing twice that of Thomas, and his soft, grey, curly hair became a deep brown mess as they wrestled in the dirt. The quiet of the terrain was broken by laughter and Cuchulainn's pant. A few moments later the two friends calmed down and joined the rest of the group.
The Parker family finally approached the house and, upon reaching a friendly distance, Ailis noticed something amiss. Alfred took George's hand and Thomas lost his smile, quickly forgetting about his frolic with Cuchulainn, instead staring inside the once familiar warm home of his mother's friend. Ailis knew Elizabeth's house like it was her own. She stopped just a stone's throw from it and gasped at its unfamiliar and strange appearance. There was no smoke coming from the chimney, no light escaping the windows, no movement in or about the house. It looked cold, hard and abandoned. Ailis shivered as she noticed the door ajar.
They stared at the house for what seemed an eternity. By pure coincidence they formed a semi-circle. The wind subsided for a moment and the silence was deafening. Cuchulainn walked a few paces forward and stopped, turning his head back toward the family. Spotting Thomas, Cuchulainn's eyes widened with confusion. He whimpered for direction, breaking the family free from the spell that held them all in silence. "Mother, I think the door's open," Thomas spoke unsurely but softly. Ailis dropped her warm pie, stepping closer to the dark, quiet house. The group followed but maintained a tight half circle. A cold hard breeze raced from behind the shocked group, causing the front door to slam open. Martin built the house to face the east so the morning sun would fill the home. The house had a large front door, and its roof had an overhang, covering half the front wall, thereby giving the house the appearance of wearing a large hat. The chimney was to the right, but darkness hid its cold breath. On either side of the front door, two large square windows offered the best possible sunshine every morning. A house built for warmth and friendship now stared at the group like a stranger whose mouth remained wide open and eyes were covered in darkness. Ailis gazed at the empty house wailing at her in silence. Afraid to move but aware that she must, she hesitated, then watched Thomas rush without cause into the house. He disappeared into the black gapping maw.
"Wait!" Ailis and Alfred screamed in unison.
George began to cry but remained where he stood. Cuchulainn rushed inside after Thomas; he was close on his heels and happy to join his friend. The three outside were still unable to move. The house remained dark inside, but now Thomas and Cuchulainn scurried about it. "I found a lantern," Thomas shouted, and life entered the house as the light chased the cold and silence, offering a hand of warmth to those standing outside.
Inside the house, Thomas held the lantern high above his head, allowing the light to seek all corners of the room. He looked to the floor and saw Cuchulainn sniffing at something that looked like a rug or bundle of clothing. As Cuchulainn shifted about, Thomas instantly saw a woman lying on the ground. "Mrs. Robinson?" Thomas spoke to the body on the floor, but it offered no response, remaining motionless and quiet. The room became familiar to Thomas, but it was not how he remembered it having ever been before.
Broken plates and cups, food, silverware, clothing and furniture were scattered everywhere, reminding him of when a squirrel ran through their house one summer.
Every time he moved, he stepped on a chip from a plate or cup. Again, and again, snapping underfoot pierced the silence inside the room. "Coo, get away from Mrs. Robinson!" Thomas moved to get a better look at the body. He looked to the front door and saw his mother standing tall and strong. Thomas shook as his widening eyes caught a look on his mother's face he had never seen.
Elizabeth Robinson lay in the middle of the kitchen on her right side with her right arm extended. Her head was tucked under her armpit as if hiding from someone or something. She was in a dress and a scarf covered her head. In her right hand, she held on tight to a letter. "Thomas! No!" Ailis shouted as he grabbed the letter offered to the world. "What? Here. Your name is on the envelope. Don't you want it?" asked Thomas. Ailis stepped over all the clutter, taking care not to disturb the room and to not injure herself as she walked into the home where Elizabeth lay.
In silence, she forgave Thomas for grabbing the note but was unable to forgive the one responsible for this unwanted act. She looked at her friend in horror then...
