Elias - 6. Part 6 - End

“The witch under the stone,” Marilou started after taking another quick drink as the crowd swelled and settled. “Her name is Margret Appleby, a young widow, her maiden name being Young. She and her husband moved east of here from a little town named Lawrenceville, to settle on fertile ground and start a family. The winter that year was harsh though and while working the land her husband Michael Appleby died, his records indicate that it was likely from frostbite and pneumonia. He left behind a young, and beautiful bride unable to tend a home through the bitter and unending winter. On the brink of starvation, she fled her home on horseback and made it into the town square, wearing just the clothes on her back. She was taken in by Reverend Claxton and his wife, saving her life until the weather broke in the Spring. Margret spent her days helping the young Reverend and his wife raise their children, sewing, and cooking for the family. She was described as a beauty, with long flowing red hair, freckles across her nose, and soft blue eyes. A member of the congregation, a special guest of the young Reverend every Sunday she sat in the front alongside his wife, their children, and the Mayor Henry and his wife Abigail.”

“I see where this is going,” Rhett whispered, perking up when he heard his last name. Looking at him I saw him roll his eyes and shake his head.

“What?” I whispered as Marilou took a break to sip on her water.

“Henrys, they’re notorious for not being able to keep it in their pants,” he said and I laughed loud enough to be shushed by someone behind me, but I didn’t turn to look around.

“When the weather warmed and the flowers bloomed, the town came back to life as did Margret. She caught the eye of many eligible bachelors and some not so eligible men. One of them calling on her in secret, giving her the name Maggie. Mayor James Clay Henry, a prominent and well loved man, was elected in a time of good prosperity. He saw farmland producing, a town growing, and laws relaxing as tensions grew in the rest of the country. He created a sense of safety and calm. What people didn’t know at the time was that Abigail had suffered the loss of three unborn children. We know from correspondence between Henry, Reverend Claxton, and Doctor George Philips that Abigail was becoming increasingly unstable and angry after each misscarriage. We can only speculate that the marriage was crumbling, or at least strained during those times and that could have been why James Henry and Magret Appleby fell in love. Along with the portraits, we found numerous love letters written by James to Margret, some unsent, sealed and addressed to Reverend Claxton and by all accounts, the Reverend had been silenced by donations to the church.”

“Also not a surprise,” Rhett whispered and I smiled. I tried to prepare myself for the part of the story I wanted to hear, the story I already knew.

“In the summer, Abigail was finally able to carry a child to term. She gave birth to a healthy baby girl who they named Emilia. Margret had moved back to her farmland and all seemed well and prosperous. It had been a good spring, crops were healthy. With the help of the townsfolk, Margret was able to plant a garden that would see her through the coming year. She was given a pair of milk cows, and a small flock of chickens. Gifts from suitors, some of course likely bought and given to her in secret by James Henry. It was the turning of summer and into fall when things got interesting, a series of unfortunate events happened. A young girl disappeared and was later found bound to a tree, stripped naked and left for dead. When questioned, she said a red haired witch brought her to that tree. Then a young man, said to have heard wailing in the night went out to see what it was and never returned. His body was never recovered, but that wasn’t all. Abigail came forward with tails of night terrors, about a witch stealing children. When asked of them, she confided in the townsfolk about losing her children before Emilia and blaming Margret for those losses.”

“And that held up back then?” Someone asked from behind me.

“Yes, it did, unfortunately,” Marilou answered, nodding her head. “Abigail Henry was beloved outwardly, but feared by many. We have evidence in letters written between prominent women, worried for their reputation if they fell out with Abigail. They were quick to back her claims with their own nightmares. It didn’t help that Margret had pushed away and scorned all of the eligible suitors and still had the eye of James Clay Henry. Margret had her own secret by then too, she was with child. Isolating herself with that secret unaware of the claims made against her, she was ambushed by the townsfolk, dragged from her home with her hands tied in front of her. Henry couldn’t save her, there was a trial that lasted all of a day, mostly so that people could get a look at her. We know what happens next, she is proven guilty and is set to be burned the following day.”

“I’ve heard this from my Grandpa,” Rhett whispered, tilting his head. “If this is it, you’ll be making it up to me later.”

“I won’t be, I promise,” I countered, smiling when he shook his head.

“The letter we found hidden in the framing of a portrait,” Marilou said, pausing for effect, “was what changed Margret’s fate. It was a letter she wrote in her prison cell, to James Clay Henry, delivered by way of Celia Blakely, a supporter of Margret during the trial. Within that letter, James Clay Henry found out that she was carrying his child. Celia had mentioned in her own letter to James, that she had seen the swollen belly. That night the church was set on fire, which we know was blamed on Margret as well. The next morning, the townsfolk battered and tired from fighting the flames all night, gathered. They watched as the pyre was finished and Margret was led to it and tied. Revered Claxton was praying over Margret as the townspeople cursed her name and just as the executioner was about to set the pyre ablaze, James Clay Henry stormed through the crowd and halted her execution.”

“I should have brought my notebook,” Rhett groaned, his eyes wide as he shifted on his cushion. “We didn’t know about James Henry’s secret child and with the witch no less.”

“After watching James Clay Henry untie Margret from the pyre, the crowd demanded answers. James was forced to banish Margret, he reclaimed the farmland she owned, it left her penniless,” Marilou continued as people gasped. “Henry secretly provided for her, by way of money, food, and Celia as her midwife.”

“Well that was thoughtful at least,” Rhett whispered and I turned to see him leaning slightly forward, with his legs crossed as he listened.

“On a cold January morning, a healthy baby boy was born,” Marilou announced then waved her hand. The first of the portraits were uncovered, the baby, with strands of curly hair. His eyes were closed, painted in a bed with fluffy pillows and a toy in his hand. “James Clay Henry came in secret the next day, after receiving an urgent letter from William Blakely. Fearing for the safety of the baby, James convinced Margret to allow Celia to give the child their name; Celia had just given birth to her own child, a daughter. Elias C. Blakely, was brought into town with a story of becoming an unfortunate orphan and adopted. He was now raised in a prominent and well to do family, with money, and future prospects. The Blakely’s lived in town, close to the Mayor’s Estate and James Henry watched him grow up. Margret died mysteriously in her shack later in the year, we don’t know from what, there are no records of her after her death. Afraid and superstitious, the townsfolk buried her across the grounds alone and tucked away with only the stone to mark the place. The rest of her story can only be told through her son.”

“Now we move on to the story of Elias C. Blakely,” Lidia announced as she took over for Marilou who sat down on the stool off to the side. Lidia had a lighter voice, but this is the story I didn’t want to hear. I knew how it ended. “Elias was from the prominent Blakely family, William handled finances and was a close personal friend to the Henrys. There was regular correspondence between James and William, about Elias and his progress through learning. As you can see as we unveil each of his portraits, he was an adorable little boy. He favored James, but with Margret’s softer blue eyes. As he grew older, he was welcomed more into the Henry household, being able to play with Emilia, who we now know was his sister.”

“This isn’t going to end well is it?” Rhett asked, turning to look at me. His nose was wrinkled and I knew where his mind was going.

“There were rumors that young Elias and Emilia were courting, but we have recently uncovered that Elias had found out about his true parentage as a young teenager,” Lidia said as she nodded her head and the other sets of portraits were unveiled. “As you can see the children were close, they also looked very similar, all of his childhood portraits were painted in the Mayoral Estate and not the Blakely house. James took more of an interest in his upbringing and as his own Mayoral duties were coming to a close, he was beginning to introduce young Elias to the practice of law.”

“Thank god, we didn’t need that odd fork in our family tree,” Rhett whispered, glancing at me. I had to chew on my bottom lip to keep from laughing.

“The young man grew handsome,” Lidia said as she nodded her head for the final portrait, the one I knew was coming and that would take my breath with it. It was the one that always gut punched me when I first walked into the room and saw it.

When the sheet fell I looked over, not looking at the portrait I knew so well. I didn’t want to feel the impact. Instead I watched as Rhett watched the sheet fall. I saw his eyes tick back up to the gilded frame, the best by far. I saw his shoulders raise as he took in a breath and blinked then looked over at me.

“My god,” he whispered as his breath hit my face. “How?”

“Strong genes,” I said looking over at the portrait and back at him.

“You couldn’t get any closer with a photograph,” he said looking back at the portrait that was chipping only slightly with age. “Is that why you looked so odd when we met?”

“Did I look odd?” I asked as he turned to look at me.

“Like you saw a ghost,” he answered, cocking his head to the side.

“Yes, like a ghost,” I answered with a smile.

“There was one letter, written from Elias to Emilia, found with James Clay Henry’s letters to Margret,” Lidia said and I turned back to listen to the rest of the story and to prepare myself for the fall I felt coming. “It was a warning, to out his father and to force James to come forward with the knowledge that Margret Appleby, the witch under the stone was his mother and that James was his father. The scandal would shake the tiny town and would have crumbled the Henry name. Elias never was able to fulfill that plan though, as his body was found next to his mother’s unmarked grave September 5th, 1867. At first we thought James Henry had him murdered, but in a litter written to Emilia, he expressed deep sadness and confided that he had given Elias his blessing to come forward with the information. We can only speculate that John Carlson, who was thought to have killed Elias, was a coincidence, but some say Abigail knew of the plot and had him killed.”

“Damn,” Rhett whispered looking over at me. “We’re connected in our family history again.”

“Yes,” I said as Lidia stepped away from the largest portrait she stood next to. “We are.”

“We invite you to take pictures of the portraits and we have the letters on display,” Lidia said as she waved her hand for the crowd to disperse. “There are refreshments and snacks to be served out back, if you wish to walk the grounds the three of us will be giving a tour.”

“Do you want to stay for the tour?” I asked as I rolled up to my knees and watched as he did the same. People were walking around us to get closer to the portraits. Some of them were attempting to talk to Marilou, asking her questions. Standing up fully I offered my hand and pulled Rhett up and when he smiled I let go of him.

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “I’ll walk the grounds tomorrow, in the daylight.”

“Scared?” I asked as he turned and took a picture of the portrait that looked like him.

“Yes,” he answered, glancing at me as he took another series of pictures. “Mom is going to flip her shit when she sees these, I about did.”

“Is it weird?” I asked as we stepped out of the way of more people wanting to take pictures.

“Hell yes it is,” he answered, his eyebrows rising as he spoke. “You knew it was coming too.”

“I did,” I said, nodding my head.

“So you were going into this knowing I would be blown away, just by that,” he said pointing his finger between us as we walked towards the exit. “That’s kind of dirty, the story could have been anything and you would have won with the painting.”

“I know,” I said laughing as he rolled his eyes.

“We didn’t wager anything and I still feel cheated,” he said looking down at his phone. I saw him zooming into Elias’ face and I looked away swallowing.

“Yeah well, I’m glad I got to see your reaction regardless,” I said as I held the door open for him and we were met with the crisp air that smelled of dead leaves and rain. People were filing out and being guided by the sheriff deputy as he blocked the street again. Looking up I saw stars and my breath rising as I exhaled.

“You looked sad when I looked at you,” he said and I looked over at him. “When Lidia told the part where Elias died.”

“Did I?” I asked and I watched him purse his lips to say something, but then he closed his mouth.

“Yeah, like you took it personally,” he finally said and I smiled.

“Well it is, my deadass lowlife ancestor killed him,” I answered as we turned down the sidewalk and towards our vehicles. He was parked a few cars ahead of me and when I saw it, I wanted to walk slower. To stall for time, because I had no reason to keep him here and he had no more of a reason to stay, after walking the grounds tomorrow morning he would be leaving.

“Ancestor, not you,” he said, trying not to laugh. “Probably not even the same Carlson you’re directly descended from.”

“Maybe not,” I said smiling at him. “Still a Carlson.”

“And I’m still a Henry, a philandering horny assed Henry,” he said, raising both his arms up and away from his sides standing squarely in the middle of the sidewalk.

“You said it, not me,” I countered and we both laughed as his arms fell back to his sides as people walked around us.

“Come get something to eat with me,” he said after we stopped laughing. “You know the places around here, I don’t.”

“Okay,” I said as we started walking again.

“We can take the same vehicle, pick up the other one on the way back,” he said as we made it to his. “I’ll pay the parking ticket we’re sure to get.”

“Alright,” I said smiling as he opened the door to his massive SUV. I walked around and got into the passenger side.

“Where to?” He asked after I closed the door and buckled my seat belt. He had both hands on the wheels and was smiling over at me.

“Milo’s Pizza, best pizza in the state by far,” I said as I turned and looked out the windshield. It was the farthest restaurant from here, it would give us more time to talk. The pizza was good, just good enough to hopefully pass as great since I baited him into it.

“Okay, pizza sounds good,” he said as he started the engine and put the destination into his phone.

I didn’t know how long I could keep him talking, or if he would be leaving in the morning. I wanted to know as much about him before he left though. He couldn’t know the reason. I also wondered if I could sneak a picture of him to send to Kaelie, she would definitely get a kick out of that. I didn’t expect much, I couldn’t. He had his own life and I mine, if tonight is all I had I was going to make it last for as long as I could.