Love in Salem (Working Title, subject to change.) [ORIGINAL STORY]

[OctoberNight]

First off I want to say that this is a work in progress, but I'd like some more outside opinions before I continue. ^^ Thank you!

 

Salem Massachusetts. A town that has a rich history with pedestrian friendly city streets and a bustling waterfront that while no longer is part of the spice trade, boasts plenty of recreational and commercial use. The city has grown over the hundreds of years, but is still considered a quiet, sleepy place to kick back near the water, or enjoy rustic colonial scenery with many preserved sites. One of the most interesting and highly misunderstood histories of the area are the Salem Witch Trials that took place in 1692. It attracts many tourists, gathering at the museum and peering through the glass and reading countless accounts on the atrocities that took place. Many not really grasping the true horror of the misconceptions and truly ignorant bigotry of the early settlers that caused many people to meet premature ends.

 

 

Ashley (last name pending) was one of these people that hated that part of his hometown's history. Oh, they tried to make it a tourist thing by hosting Halloween bashes every October, as if apologizing for it all. But his family had been Pagan for as far back as they could trace, and following the Wiccan path was still something he had to keep secret. For what most people didn't know, is that it was much more real than they could imagine. It made him sick that to this day there were some that still thought it was all dark, evil and sinful. This was the 21st century and some people still acted like they were in the dark ages. He adjusted his shoulder bag as he made his way to his favorite coffee shop. On his way in he saw on the message cork board with flyers pinned to it for all the Autumn festivals and 'witchy' tourist traps. They were seriously making money off of these poor people's bloody history. As he sat down, rather roughly he pulled out his laptop from his bag and started it up, staring boredly at the start-up screens.

 

 

Normally he wasn't in this bad of a mood, with fall being his favorite time of the year, but when Halloween arrived, he had to put up with all the jeering colorful and grotesque images of the traditional 'witch' on all of the decorations and flyers. He was an open-minded person that believed everyone had a right to their opinion, but his opinion also was that no one should be ignorant. He couldn't understand those who stayed willfully ignorant. It was a pride that ran in his family, and with them having to hide their religious practices even into this modern age, it really grated on his nerves. Usually, he was a bright and happy young man, he had dark brown, almost black hair, with bright green eyes that smiled. He kept his pentagram necklace tucked under his shirt, as much as he'd love to wear it proudly on the outside. He removed his hand-made scarf from around his neck and placed it on the chair next to him. Before he put in his password, he got up and decided to grab himself a cup of coffee. When he got up to the counter, a young barista slapped her hand on the counter.

 

 

"'Bout time you got in here, I was wondering if you'd show." She winked at him.

"Hey, Taylor." He said, a small smile tugging at his lips, but it was half-hearted.

"Come on, why so down?" She asked. "Its fall, your favorite! I love the smell in the air this time of year." She watched Ashley's eyes wander over to the cork board and she sighed. "Don't let it get you down. Take some pride in it, at least they aren't covering it up like some dark secret." She offered this as a peaceful reassurance, but Ashley just played with a button on his coat.

"They don't even try to tell anyone what real Wicca is." He mumbled. Seeing as how this was a sensitive subject, she moved on, curling her finger around her ponytail end of her chocolate brown hair.

 

"So..." she clicked her tongue. "The usual then?" She put on a smile. Ashley nodded and that smile of his finally found his lips. "Okay, so one tall spiced pumpkin latte with soy milk and whipped cream. You know the rest." She held out her hand, sporting her orange and black fingernails for the season. Ashley looked up at her, pulling money out of his pocket.

"Thanks for trying, at least you aren't like other people here." He handed her the money and she chuckled.

"You know me, little miss sunshine." She took his cup and wrote his name on it and started to make his drink. Ashley stepped off to the side to allow others to get their orders. It was customary for Taylor to always make his drinks, it was always perfect when she did it. It was a finesse. Of course, they had known each other since middle school, but when college time hit, they kind of went their separate ways. Ashley thought it was a shame, especially since they grew up literally in the same neighborhood. He remembered the teasing he used to get about his name, people always saying it was a 'girls' name, when in reality it started out as a boy's name. Taylor had come up to him saying she thought his name pretty and unique for a guy. That's how they had started to become friends.

 

 

"Okay, handsome, all ready to go." She walked up to the counter and put his drink down. "Cheer up okay? Don't let these festivals get you down. One day, people will understand." She gave him a cheerful smile, and he couldn't help but return it, only it was out of amusement. "You have a lot more faith in humanity than I do, 'TayTay." He teased.

"Don't start with that Ash, I won't have it...." She pointed a Hallo-weeny painted fingernail in his direction. "Keeping my eye on you, sir." With another confident smile she turned back to her job and Ashley inwardly chuckled, making his way back to his computer, imputing his password then snapping on enter, and leaning back in his chair sipping away. 'Ah, perfect. Just like always.' He mused for a moment on the rich silky smooth spice before setting it down, and he noticed a little jack-o-lantern drawn cutely on his cup. He shook his head, amused. 'Dammit, TayTay...' He still smiled.

 

 

 

An hour or two passed before Ashley thought of packing it in. His grandmother would be home anytime now, and he was supposed to make dinner tonight. Exiting out of the various windows he had open about various spells, practices and a few herbal remedies, he clicked saved on his college report he was supposed to be doing and shrugged.

"It'll do itself eventually. I'll get around to it." He closed his laptop just as Taylor walked over, pulling a rag from her apron pocket and wiping down a table.

"Leaving already? But you're the best part of this decor." She teased.

"Oh, yeah thanks..." Ashley spat back. "Nice to know I'm part of the ambiance here." Returning the laptop to his bag, he stood up. "You get off in a few right?"

Taylor stood up and shrugged.

"Ohhh, I might, what's it to you?"

Ashley threw his bag over his shoulder, grinning mischievously.

"Well you see, I'm doing dinner tonight, thought you'd like to be a guinea pig."

Taylor put her hand over her heart, in a mock gasp.

"Me?! Oh, Ashley, dinner?!" She exclaimed. "I thought you'd never ask, and using me as an experiment no less! I couldn't dream of a more romantic evening." They both exchanged laughter before she shook her head. "I'd love to, but tonight I have to go over a few things on my college list and discuss it with my parents."

"So it came?!" Ashley said incredulously. "You're acceptance letter!? Why didn't you tell me? That's great news!"

Taylor looked like she couldn't contain herself anymore. She squealed and jumped, throwing her arms in the air, getting a few odd looks from the customers.

"Yes! Yeaaahh! I know! I wanted to call you earlier, but your grandmother said you had already left, but I figured I'd see you here so..." She wiggled in excitement, grabbing Ashley. "I'm so excited! I can't believe that I'll be in New York come spring!"

"--Oof!" Ashley exclaimed being pulled into her bear-like hug. He barely had time to react before she pushed him back, her hands on his shoulders, looking straight at him.

"You promise you'll come visit right?!" She looked at him, but her smile slowly started to fade as Ashley stayed silent. "You will, won't you, Ash?"

Ashley looked at her and managed a weak smile.

"Tay, you know that I'll try. I'll do what I can, I promise." He could barely believe his friend for so many years was going to be moving away. Much further than just a short car ride. "I just... it's finally here. You off to college, and me still in Salem."

"You're taking classes here though, right?" She asked. "STU?"

"Yeah, but, we haven't been apart since middle school." He pouted a little. "It's going to be strange without you around."

Taylor pulled back and put her hands on her hips.

"Well!" She said. "That's why you have to come visit me! And you better, Ashley! Or I'll pack you in my suitcase!"

 

 

Ashley and Taylor laughed for a few more moments, before Taylor's boss waved her back over, shaking his head about her mingling too much with customers and not doing her job. She turned red and said good-bye to Ashley, insisting that he come and visit the moment he's able to get away. To most people they still had plenty of time to hang out, but their schedules were already so hectic, they barely got to see each other now, let alone when she went off to a whole other state for college. Ashley didn't make friends easily, despite his best efforts. He'd had a few male friends in the past, but they never really stuck. They either made fun of his name, or his religion once they found out visiting his house. His grandmother refused to hide their religion in her own house, and it always tended to freak some of his friends out, and even those that weren't scared off, their parents after finding out would ban their kids from associating with him. So, he was the freaky 'witch kid.' Taylor had been the only one who didn't give a damn. Her parents were always too wrapped up in their careers to care much who she hung out with, and she hid her sadness on that well. So Ashley always thought him and Taylor had that loneliness factor in common.

 

 

At that moment, a loud group of some of Ashley's old schoolmates jostled through the door. It was as if they zeroed in on him. Just as Ashley was about to pick up his scarf, they were upon him like hawks, one snatching the scarf up before Ashley could tighten his slender fingers around it.

"Hey look everyone, its Ashley...." A particularly broad young man with a sideways baseball cap heightened his voice on the name, giving it a girly twist. "What are you doing here? Casting spells on people to like this nasty coffee?!"

The stereotype vibe coming off these troglodytes was sickening. Ashley thought he had refuge from these idiots in the coffee shop since not a single one of them would know culture if it bit them in the ass, but they had found his sanctuary.

"Yeah, Mitch, check it..." Another one of his cronies chimed in. He slapped his hand across Ashley's, knocking his now cold coffee all over the floor and up his pants leg. "Oops, guess you didn't have a spell for that one." The one called Mitch busted up, tightening his grip on the hand-made scarf.

 

 

"Takes some kind of real faggot to wear something like this..." He looked at the scarf. It was purple with three stars near the tips where it fringed off.

"Hey!" Taylor yelled. "I'm going to have to ask you to leave if you keep harassing my customers!" She started to come out from behind the counter.

"Taylor, don't." Ashley said over his shoulder.

"Aw, you see that boys?" Mitch snickered. "He's got a girl to fight for him!" He looked back at Ashley. "Look you little creep,why don't you do us all a favor and leave town? You've been plaguing us since middle school with your magical nonsense. All this talk of dragons and dungeons and spells and stuff. You're a downright freak. You and your grandmother!"

Taylor stood there, completely helpless. Her manager though, walked up behind her.

"Gentlemen, leave. You're upsetting the other customers. Either order something or leave." The younger men just stared at him like he was a fly at a picnic. The older man stared them down. "If you don't leave, I will call the police for harassing my customers. Mitch and his lackeys exchanged looks, figuring that it was best to not to push their luck.

 

 

"Fine..." he said backing up. "But I know where you and your creepy grandmother live." He pointed in Ashley's face, and a shiver ran down the young man's spine. He wasn't afraid, he just wanted so much to punch this motherfucker in the face. "But I guess I'll take this as a door prize."

"No! Please..." Ashely made a movement to get the scarf, but Mitch just moved it quickly of his reach. Clenching the scarf, he tapped his friend on the shoulder. "Let's bail, he's not worth it. See you at the stake this year, (last name)! We'll get you this year!" As they left the store, they could hear the two chanting, "Burn the witch, burn the witch." Ashley took a step forward, his heart sinking. His grandmother had made him that scarf. Quickly he turned around with an apologetic look on his face. The customers, who were staring the whole time, quickly went back to their coffees and conversation, almost looking ashamed for staring in the first place. Taylor stood there in silent tears.

"I... I'm so sorry Taylor..." he looked down at the coffee splattered on the ground.

 

 

"No, really, Ash, its okay...go get you're scarf ..." She didn't know what else to say, she was so choked up. Ashley bit his bottom lip and strode out the door in a flash, determined to get his scarf back. Taylor just watched him go, and cried as she cleaned up the mess.

 

Ashley had bolted out of the coffeehouse, looking up and down the street, but the two thugs were nowhere to be seen. They probably took a back alley way, so the young man asked desperately around if anyone had seen two guys with a purple scarf on the street anywhere, but to no avail. Either they looked at him like he was crazy, or had seen nothing. He turned sharply down an alleyway between and old-fashioned candy shop and a cobblers (which was now converted into a toy store.) Breathing heavily he looked around. How could they have just disappeared? He wasn't standing in that coffee shop for more than a few seconds after they left. It was if they had just vanished into thin air. Of course, Ashley couldn't imagine there was a magic strong enough to make that lard ass disappear into nothing, but after a fruitless endeavor of searching nearby streets, he had to give up and go home, his grandmother was expecting him and he was already an hour late.

 

 

 

"Ashley!? Is that you?!" An older woman called out as she heard her front door opening.

"Yeah Granny, its me." he said in a lackluster tone. He walked through the foyer into the old-fashioned living room and threw his bag onto the couch. His grandmother was standing in the kitchen, holding a wooden spoon, a pot steaming on the stove. She had long white hair that she kept in a tidy bun behind her head, with a gentle feather tied into it. Despite her age, she had a lively aura, but not without a comfort and grace. She was dressed in a simple blouse and pencil skirt that went to her knees and a small black belt around the waist. On her broach was a pentagram with a blue stone in the middle.

 

 

"What's wrong, sweetheart?" She sensed her grandson wasn't right. "Don't tell me...." She added, stirring the pot. "It's that gang of witch hunters you went to school with, isn't it?" This obviously had happened more than once, especially since it was now the unfortunate norm since late middle school. Ashley just sighed, and looked over at her, ashamed.

"I just wanna fight back, you know?" He said, frowning. "But the Rede says---"

"Ah, the Rede says many things." His grandmother interrupted. "You're concerned with the three fold law?" She put down the spoon and walked over to him. " It also says, 'lest in self defense it be.' You tend to forget that." His grandmother gave a wizened smirk. Ashley just looked up at her.

"Well, yeah but they weren't hurting me----"

"They were hurting your spirit, and restricting who you are. In my opinion, that's just as bad as physical harm. It was abuse of the mind, not of the body." His grandmother was wise in the ways of Wicca, but Ashley seemed curious.

"You aren't cherry picking, are you Gramma? Are you sure that's the way its interpreted?" he sometimes liked to ask questions, which his grandmother completely encouraged, but at this statement, she turned quickly.

"Dont' you dare say that. I am not like those buffet Christians, that just pick and choose what they like best and follow that!" At that moment, she seemed to catch herself and sigh. "I didn't mean any ill will with that, look, dear, I'm just as frustrated as you are. But don't you worry about that interpretation." She added quickly. "In the grand scheme of things, it all adds up to the same. Mental abuse is the same if not worse than physical harm. Those injuries can heal with time, but scars on the soul stay much longer." She turned back to her pot on the stove and stirred quietly. Ashley took this time to think as he stared at the fireplace hearth.

"Can we light the fire tonight, Gramma?" Ashley asked, his face tilting in her direction. Without turning around, she gently replied.

"Yes dear, of course. Fetch the firewood then."

Ashley didn't have to see her face to know she was smiling, it was in her words. He slowly pushed himself out of the chair and walked to the back door but stopped at the kitchen and looked at her.

"They took my scarf, Gramma. The one you made me. I'm so sorry." The poor boy's face was so crestfallen. He couldn't bare to look his Grandmother in the face when he said it, he felt so ashamed he didn't fight harder. Before he knew it, gentle hands cupped his face, tilting it upwards.

"It's just a scarf, honey..." her eyes met his and they twinkled. "Besides, I put a special spell on that scarf for you. For protection, and today it seemed to have done its job. If it's meant to return to you, it will."

"Yeah but they took it, no telling where it is now---"

His grandmother put up a finger to stop him.

"If it's meant to return to you, it will. Now..." she said patting him on the side of the face. "Go get that firewood, I feel a chill."

Ashley couldn't help but smile. Ever since his parents passed away his grandmother had done everything she could to make sure he was well taken care of, and she always knew just what to say.

 

 

 

The evening passed by, and with a full belly of a good home cooked meal, Ashley sat by the crackling fire with his grandmother, he typing away on his computer, and her crocheting. It was probably such a stereotypical scene to most, the type that people slap on greeting cards and send off to far away family members like an afterthought with a sense of still giving a damn. But he didn't care, he liked it, and since he was four, this is what he knew. Soon enough, with a sigh of contentment, his grandmother put away her crochet needles and stood up.

"Bed time, Gramma?" He said, looking over his screen.

"Not a bad idea, if I do say so myself. Make sure to put the fire out before heading to bed, and I suggest it young man." She wagged a finger at him good naturally. Ashley gave a chuckle.

"In a bit, ok? I have to finish this for my essay. It's an extra credit to get more money on my scholarship."

His Grandmother just smiled back and walked over to him, bending slightly to give him a quick peck on the head.

"Ah, Gramma!" He joked, I'm not a kid anymore." He turned red, it was embarrassing, but deep down, he was grateful for the affection.

"Don't you give me that." She replied hastily. "You know you are the only thing I have left of your mother and father." Her jovial smile faded as she gave his hair a gentle stroke. "They'd be proud of you, you know."

"Yeah, I hope so, Gramma." Ashley replied, looking up at her. A few split seconds passed in silence as if a mutual understanding between the two of them commenced, then she straightened herself up and gave a yawn.

"Well then back to it, I suppose." She tapped his laptop. "Don't strain your eyes." Her grandmotherly tone came out in that one. "Good night, dear."

"'Night, Gramma." Ashley replied, going straight back to his computer, fingers instantly starting to dance across the keyboard.

 

 

***

The doorbell rang at 9:45. Rose looked up from putting away dishes from supper then glanced at the clock. They were late.

"That son of mine..." She mused, drying the last dish as she walked to the door. "Never that punctual even if you strapped a clock to his head." Rose answered the door, expecting to see her son coming to fetch little Ashley. But the minute she had opened the door her heart nearly stopped.

A tall middle-aged man with a somber expression stood before her. He was in uniform.

"I'm Officer Dellard from the Salem Police Department, I'm sorry to come so late, but, something's happened with your son and his wife..."

The next thing Rose could remember was dropping and shattering the plate she was holding. Knees shaking, she burst into tears. The man held her as she sobbed into his shoulder, she knew she must have soaked it; barely able to stand up. Rose remembered being escorted inside her house and into the living room to sit down on the couch. The officer had explained the drunk driver and how he had t-boned his son's car at 55 miles per hour along the backroads. She had bawled that her son always took those roads at night because there was barely any one on them. The man had ran a stop sign and plowed straight into them, sending them into a tree. The car was literally wrapped around it. Her eyes stung with tears, her entire body ached, and she couldn't stop shaking. Rose remembered the good policeman, determined to stay with her until she had calmed down a little. Hurriedly she'd sent a curious Ashley, aged four, back to his room, a scared and worried look on his face.

 

 

Before he left, the Officer expressed his condolences, despite how little he knew it would do. Rose had thanked him, and promised to report to the hospital morgue early the next morning. But still, sitting there in front of the fireplace, her hands holding a picture frame of her son, Alex and his wife Roxanne and in her arms, the now parent-less Ashley. She held the picture so tight her hands were sore. 'Why?' She had asked herself that over and over. ' Why in the name of all great elements did they take him?'

Rose stopped on the stairs, the flashback despite being over 10 years old, made her grip the handrail tightly, her head bowed. For her son to go that way, his wife....killed in a instant by some stranger foolish enough to get behind the wheel of a car intoxicated. Her very flesh and blood taken out in such an everyday manner. But that's why its called 'everyday' isn't it? She could barely believe the insult. Rose was convinced from the get go that her son was destined for something great, and he's taken, just like that. It tortured her. But she could never let Ashley see how much it pained her, she had to stay strong for him despite that everyday she looked into his eyes and heard his laugh all she could do was see her own son again.

 

 

Somehow, she made it to the upstairs landing and into her bedroom, closing the door and sitting heavily on her bed. Not a night went by that she didn't think about what happened. It had been hard enough on her when her husband, Thomas had passed away only a two years before the accident due to cancer. They hit so close together she was surprised she kept it together so well. Peering over at her beside table she saw a photo of her son with little Ashley holding fishing poles, and another old-fashioned oval one of her late husband. Sometimes the weight was more than she could bear, but she knew one thing, as she turned off the lamp, that she had to stay strong. For the sake of her son's memory---and for Ashley.

 

 

The next morning came, and Ashley, who had actually fallen asleep on the couch that night, slowly opened his eyes, the fresh autumn air hitting his senses. Sitting up, he noticed a blanket falling away from him.

'Thanks, Gramma...' He said to himself, a little ashamed he didn't get up to bed. Sure he'd managed putting the fire out well enough but he stayed glued to his computer until he just couldn't stay awake. The last thing he remembered after putting out the fire was shutting down his computer, and it still sat there on the floor, flipped open with a blank screen. He had fallen asleep while waiting for it to shut down, he could barely believe how dorky he was sometimes. Snapping it shut he got up and stretched, a spot or two in his back popping.

 

 

"Ahhh, yeah, that's the spot." He moaned happily. Ashley turned towards the kitchen to get some fresh cider from the fridge, (His grandmother always kept cider in the house when fall hit) but something caught his eye. On the table was a note from his grandmother saying she had decided to hit the early markets for fresh produce and the ever famous staple of October, the pumpkin. "Yes! A jack-o-lantern!" he exclaimed gleefully. Him and Taylor always made a thing of it every year to carve pumpkins then proudly display them on the porch like masterpieces in an art gallery. That was until they had to start bringing them in at night since a lot of the kids from Ashley's school would smash them during the night out of pure spite. But no matter, despite that, carving pumpkins was something he'd never grow out of.

 

He tapped the note against his palm in thought for a moment before setting it down and retrieving his cider. Then a feeling of inspiration came over him. Fight or not, he was determined that today, he was going to track those two idiots down from yesterday and demand the whereabouts of his scarf. No more of this bullshit. His father wouldn't have taken it, and he won't either!

After quickly showering, and pulling on a fresh set of clothes, he grabbed his bag after unceremoniously shoving his laptop in it and hurried out the door, twisting the key in the lock and continued on flying down the stairs. He was taking no more. As he ran his pentagram necklace flew out from under his shirt and tapped gently against his chest as he ran, a reminder that with each step he took he was being backed up by the forces that be, and that was some of the best damned back up you could have.

[Justme]

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It's a very cool story! You should sure continue it *__*