A Cabin In The Woods

   “What brings a pretty little thing like thee to my cabin door, my dear?”

   “I am being hunted by the village men. They say I bewitched the Preacher’s son, but I did no such thing. It was he who ripped the cloth from my dress. It was he who held me firmly to the ground. And it was he who forced his kisses onto my lips,” said a haggard, thorn bitten girl of sixteen.

   “Have thee been running through my bushes to escape these men who pursue thee?”

   “I saw the chimney smoke from thou morning breakfast, my lady. I knew of nowhere else to go.”

   “Oh, such a polite little thing thou are. Yes thee are. Thouest can call me Lady Conley. Yes. Lady Conley.”

   “I am Elizabeth Fletcher, my lady. I only ask to rest for the moment, and maybe beg some crumbs off of thou plate. I do not wish harm to befall thee by the evil which pursues myself.”

   The Lady Conley smiles, a smile of understanding, which the girl does not comprehend.

   “Do not fret young thing. I have plenty of room for thee to rest and a full piping hot cauldron of chicken broth to fill thy stomach,” the Lady Conley says warmly. “Let me find some proper cloth for thee to adorn. Where I can mend your dress properly, torn by the hands of a demon man.”

   “My lady. Thy must hide me first. The village men have bloodhounds. Thou puts thyself in danger.”

   The Lady Conley can sense the sincerity in Elizabeth’s voice. She knows that the young girl does not lie about her fate. Conley's heart warms to the young girl, since her concerns are for others, before herself.

   “Oh Elizabeth, my dear. Lady Conley and her kin have resided in this cabin before the fathers of the village men were born. Before their fathers, fathers. The elders know of I, and I knowest of the Preacher. I do.”

   “Lady Conley! I hearest the hounds. They come for I. I must flee. I cannot put thee in danger.”

   “Such a wonderful young thing thou are. You worry, not for thyself, but for I.”

   Lady Conley pushes the girl to sit down at her table. Not forcibly, that would have been cruel after what the demon man had done to her. It was with a grateful, understanding smile.

   “Please sip my broth and dunk this freshly baked bread to fill thy stomach. Fall is coming soon, thy know. I must take my broom to sweep away the leaves before they pile too high.”

   Elizabeth looks worried. Why bother with leaves in the woods? The sounds of the hounds are so near. Does not Lady Conley understand the danger I have befallen her?

   “My Lady. I must leave here at once. I have brought the evil to thy door. I shame myself for doing so.”

   “Hush, hush, little one. Lady Conley knows how to speaketh to such men. I will persuade them of their ill will. It has been led astray.” And with that, the Lady Conley picks up her broom, waiving it once over Elizabeth’s head, and goes outdoors to sweep her leaves.

   A calmness overcomes Elizabeth. She knows not from where, but she sits at the table, drinking from a cup of water, and begins dunking the fresh bread into the broth.

   She thinks about the Lady, living in a cabin out in the woods all alone. How did she cut wood for the fire? How did she catch the chicken, to pluck the feathers from, for her broth? How could the Lady as old as she, carry the bucket from the well? Without thinking, Elizabeth says out loud, though no one could hear, “I will help the Lady Conley with all her chores,” then wonders why she does not feel frightened any longer.

   Outside, humming a tune only the humming bird sings, the Lady Conley sweeps away the leaves which have fallen first. She looks up, as the hounds yelp at her from behind the wall of stone that marks her property.

   The angry villagers are not far behind and yell at the hounds to continue their hunt. But the hounds do not move past the wall.

   Sometimes, man should heed an animal’s wisdom. Before the storm hits, does not the bird go to hide in its nest. Before the eagle strikes, does not the jackrabbit stomp his foot to warn the others? Before the fall, does not the horse stop at the cliff’s edge? Before the giant ocean wave engulfs the shores, does not all the beasts run to higher ground?

   Man should heed an animal’s wisdom sometimes.

   The Preacher’s son is first to speak. “Listen hag of the woods. If thou hides the witch of a girl who put the spell of lust in I, thou shalt be damned as a witch thyself.”

   The Lady Conley slowly looks to the boy who thought he was a man, and says, “Preacher's son. Thou has no respect for others, I see. What hast I done to thee, to be spoken to in such manner? Do thou not carest how others fair?”

   By now the bloodhounds have ceased their barking, only to growl at the old lady's movements.

   “Thy harbor the witch Elizabeth, I suspect. And why should I care how thou fair? Young and strong am I. Thou lookest like the rot on the bottom of a fallen tree. I am the Preacher’s son. If I say burn thy cabin to the ground, thou shalt not have a place to live by morrow.”

   The Lady Conley smiles. She sees in the men who follow the Son of the Preacher, doubt, creeping into their thoughts as he now speaks.

   “I will give all one chance to leave here. Thou elder men. Have not your father's spoken to you? About the cabin in the woods?”

   Some of the elder villagers started to leave, remembering the tales told at night about the cabin in the woods. Stories so old, that even the Church’s Preacher spoke sermons on how they were only fairy tales to frighten little children at night.

   But if it were true, only the fool with a fool’s heart would contest the Lady so.

   More men begin to leave.

   “What? Am I surrounded by little children? Do thou believe the tall tales told around campfires? I will show this is no witch. I will tie both together with rope and rock and if thouest float, both are witches. If thouest sink to the river’s bottom, our Lord has made peace with thy souls as they fly to heaven from thy dead bodies.”

   The last of the men began running off, calling their hounds to come hither.

   The Preacher’s son starts climbing over the stonewall with hate and vigor.

   The Lady Conley lifts her broom up into the air, circling in the direction of the demon boy, and says, “Show this boy his folly ways. Making his eyes see nothing else all his days.”

   After those words are spoken, a bright flash of light blinds the eyes of the demon boy.

   For a day and a night, the Preacher himself, had to search the woods alone. When he hears the crying of his son, he feels a joy only a father can feel about finding a lost son or daughter.

   But when he looks into thy son’s eyes, he cries right along his side.

   There were no pupils, there were no whites to his eyes. Only cloudy orbs rotating around and around, showing the lust the boy had in his heart.

   All the while his son kept asking, “Can thou maketh it stop?”

   The Preacher lifts his son to his feet and says, “Let us pray.”

   “I art so sorry Papa. How cruel I have been. So sorry. It was I Papa. It was I who tried to bewitch the girl. It was I.”

This is,

My Latest Short Story,

Jim Hauenstein,

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"What good is ye world when ye canst not livest hither."

- K. Hari Kumar -

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