The Riverlore Witch: Chapter One
Elaine was looking exceptionally beautiful today standing there on her family’s porch. Her wavy brunette hair cascaded over her shoulders and her light blue patterned dress fit her nicely. Of course being the daughter of a Reverend she always kept it modest.
She’s lovely but she’s young, there’s more than ten years between us. I’ll be thirty-four in the fall and she just turned twenty-two last week. I got her a sterling silver necklace for her birthday. She was grateful of course but I could tell she was hoping for something more.
I don’t know if I’m ready for that something quite yet. We met nearly two months ago, courtesy of my sister, Marilyn—who, I must add, married directly into the coal baron family of Little Egypt. My brother-in-law, Joseph, and the Reverend maintain a close relationship, so she naturally felt compelled to play matchmaker. Not quite what I expected when I moved to this small town, but not enough to make me miss Chicago.
“Are you ready?” I asked. She looked at me with her doe eyes. Elaine’s freckles were more prominent now that it’s summer. Although she hated them, I adored the seasonal look.
“Yes.” Her hands slipped around my arm and we went to the church.
Sundays in her company were always a cherished reprieve from the demands of my practice. This was my first summer in Alexandria, and also my first introduction to real humidity. Most days were tolerable but days like today— the temptation to steal Elaine’s fan was overwhelming. Having to sit and sweat in our Sunday best was a new kind of discomfort. Torture, dare I say.
The front doors welcomed us in like they usually do. Like the arms of someone familiar, someone trustworthy. Elaine made it a point to always arrive early to greet all the members before the sermon. Her and all her siblings, of course. Each of them greeted with their own level of enthusiasm. I wasn’t much for conversations, so I would find my usual spot, under the maple trees to have a quick smoke before heading in.
I’ve repented, as the saying goes. It happened over Easter, when the Reverend gathered the congregation down by the creek. The sun was bright, the water frigid, and the choir’s dissonant hymns intertwined with the voice of the moving creek.
But when Reverend Matthews pulled me out of the water, I didn’t feel any different. Nothing like how the other members described their baptisms anyways. Of course, this was something I kept to myself.
Growing up, I paid little mind to the church. My family was Catholic, but my mother only seemed to take us to Mass whenever my father’s drinking became excessive. Even now, I can't recall much of what happened inside those stained glass windows other than the high ceilings, latin prayers and constant fear of damnation.
Attending service in Alexandria was simply a formality at this point, not only for Elaine, but I felt it necessary for my image. Despite my sister’s warnings, I learned the hard way that church was mandatory, not a casual suggestion. There were a few Sundays I missed in the beginning, before my courtship with Elaine of course, so rumors began circulating that I was busy indulging in a ‘city born’ vice.
It nearly ruined my practice before I even got started.
Yes, there were many things I did in my earlier years that I’m not exactly proud of. Things of which no one must ever know, not even Elaine. It wasn’t easy, but I am a changed man. It’s been years since I touched a bottle, so their ignorant gossip felt like a rusty scalpel pressed against a healing wound.
I brought myself back into the heat of Elaine’s family church. There, she sat to my left in her usual position. One hand on mine, the other on the bible while her eyes watched her father.
The Reverend stood at the pulpit, his head already glistening with sweat. He too had one hand on the bible but his other hand dabbed at his brow with a handkerchief.
He was a large man with a heavy set frame. Elaine’s mother must be a wonderful cook because the Reverend looked as though he had never missed a single meal. He kept what was left of his grey hair in a combover and often joked that he and I were twins since my own hair had gone grey years ahead of schedule. Of course I always forced a laugh.
His presence commanded the room, he had a boastful laugh that shook the walls and possessed a voice loud enough to wake the dead. Sometimes I found myself trying to draw the similarities between father and daughter. She does carry his smile, but every other grace was inherited from her mother. And I thank the Lord for that.
It felt like an eternity has passed since the sermon began this morning. It was beyond hot and miserable, I didn’t know how much more I could take or if I could survive this summer. Beads of sweat ran down the temple of my face, and I took off my glasses to chase them.
I knew I was near my limit when I could feel the faint ticking of my pocket watch. The temptation to check the time was becoming unbearable.
Before I knew it, my hand had naturally arrived to my waistcoat when Elaine turned her head, her hand tightened around mine in a silent reprimand. We had spoken of this—of proper church etiquette—and how nothing goes unnoticed in Alexandria. Pivoting under her scrutiny, I guided my fingers upward to comb through my mustache instead, desperate to avoid another sermon on decorum later. Her grip loosened.
Begrudgingly, I decided to turn my attention back to the sermon.
“Lastly, let us look at Psalms chapter fifty.” He commanded as he dabbed the sweat from his head. Elaine flipped the pages for me. I wasn’t familiar with the Good Book, so I always let her do the honors.
“In Psalm fifty, verse fifteen, God Himself speaks: ‘Call upon me in the day of trouble; I will deliver you, and you shall glorify me.’” His words flowed with a cadence, common to southern preachers. “Thus, we must cast our anxieties upon the Lord. We must lean on God in our darkest hours. Say it with me! He shall deliver us!”
“He shall deliver us!”
“Let us bow for prayer.” He said before bowing his head, his breath more noticeable now.
I felt immediate relief. I lowered my chin knowing it would soon be over.
I could never bring myself to close my eyes for prayer, my gaze was always too restless. This time I let my vision drift toward Elaine, as this was the only time my eyes could wander the shape of her body freely. Unfortunately for me, the prayer was short this time.
“In Jesus' name we pray, Amen.” He said.
“Amen.” We all echoed in fatigued unison.
Elaine always looked forward to visiting with the members afterwards. I, on the other hand, did not. Her exchanges with the town's folk were that of pleasantries, topics like gardening, dinner recipes, even petty town gossip.
However, for me, the people of this town would take this time to inquire about their illness and ailments. Even if the conversations started out genuine at first, they somehow worked their way back to their own aches and pains
I nodded my head silently as Mr. Hickens explained his mysterious left ankle pain for the fourth Sunday in a row. How it only seemed to appear when he goes fly fishing or just before bed. Then he would pull down his sock to point directly at the spot of the pain. Of course, our conversation always ended with my suggestion that he come see me at the practice, but we both knew that wasn’t going to happen.
I made my way over to the water stand before anyone else had a chance to talk to me. My throat was dry and my garments damp with sweat. But before I could take a sip, I heard an all too familiar voice.
“Doctor Kozlowski!”
I turned my head to the sound of heavy footsteps. There was only one man in this town who correctly pronounced my last name.
“Reverend,” I nodded, “great message today, as always.”
“Thank you Doctor, but it’s the Lord we should thank.”
“Indeed.” I sipped from the glass cup, hoping he wouldn’t ask my opinions about his sermon next. Instead, the Reverend slapped his hand on my shoulder, nearly causing me to spill on myself.
“How is my precious Elaine doing? Are things well with you two? She hasn’t stopped singing praises of that necklace you got her.” I felt the blood leave my face, I knew where this conversation was going and I needed to quickly shift topics.
“Everything’s going well Reverend,” I said with a steady voice, “She has taken a great interest in Chicago of late. I am considering taking her north for a visit once the heat breaks.”
“Oh? And what awaits in Chicago?” His smile grew wider, so did the glimmer in his eyes.
I fidgeted my drink with perspiring hands, I walked myself right into this.
“Family,” I replied with a forced smile. “With my mother advancing in years, and my brother entirely consumed by the family business, I thought it high time to introduce her to them.”
“This is marvelous news,” he chuckled, clapping a heavy hand onto my shoulder. “I shall keep the autumn weather in my prayers, then.”
“Of course,” I muttered, suffocating the urge to look away.
I found out the people of Alexandria rushed to marriage. It wasn't uncommon for folks here to tie the knot after a month or two. And when they did, the whole town of Alexandria was invited. I’ve already attended four weddings since I’ve been here, one of which I was the best man at.
He was a patient of mine, and he was deeply appreciative when I saw to his mother who caught the flu. The boy was sixteen years old and didn’t have a father, how could I say no?
I adjusted my glasses wondering how I was going to exit this conversation. Thankfully Mr. and Mrs. Jones, who were both older than the dirt beneath the church, came up to personally ask the Reverend for a prayer. I took this as my cue to escape and looked for Elaine.
I exited the church and made my way around the corner. The flowers Elaine planted were in full bloom basking in the thick sunlight. A mix of marigolds, daffodils and others I couldn’t remember the name of.
There in the courtyard I saw my sweet Elaine chatting to Mrs. Jameson. Their outfits contrasted with each other, Elaine’s pastel colors was muted by Mrs. Jameson’s bold cacophony of hues. It seems today she chose to wear her blinding orange hat that, in my opinion, resembled a dead parrot.
But something seemed different today. Elaine’s posture appeared tense while Mrs. Jameson’s was more sharp and animated. I stepped a little closer to hear what they were discussing.
“Let’s not jump to conclusions here.” Said Elaine.
“I just know it was the witch.”
“Witch?” I interrupted.
Elaine spun around, her eyes wide while Mrs. Jameson kept her bitterness.
“Yes, the Riverlore Witch.” Mrs. Jameson retorted.
“Riverlore Witch?” I turned to Elaine with a half smile, “What’s this about?”
Elaine’s lips were pursed and eyes avoidant. I quickly dropped the smile, something was wrong.
“It’s nothing darling, just-” Elaine shook her head, “Mrs. Jameson, please, let’s not talk like that around here.”
“I’m telling you, Miss Matthews, it was the witch that took those girls.” The old woman detested.
My heart dropped.
“What's this about girls?” I asked, not sure if I had heard her right.
Elaine’s gaze dropped again to the ground while Mrs. Jameson huffed. I looked at both of them but none gave an answer.
“What’s going on Elaine?” This time my voice was more stern.
“The Masons didn’t come to church today,” she said in a low voice, “and it’s because their two girls have been missing since last night.”
My blood froze at her words.
“Oh dear.” I muttered.
How terrible indeed.
My mind played back the interactions I had with the family, none of which I found to be particularly helpful in this situation. The Masons were good people but they were different. They did not resemble most families here in Alexandria. Mrs. Mason was a kind woman who was married to a Red Man. They had two daughters.
I recalled back when they visited me in the spring, their two girls were sensitive to the seasonal change. I couldn’t remember their names but both were under the age of ten. The Masons were located on the outskirts of town, they didn't have much but they made it work.
Mrs. Jameson pulled out a smoke and lit a match using the sole of her heel.
“Like I said, it’s just the beginning. The witch is on the hunt again, God be with us.” She took a drag.
My brows furrowed at her statement. Where I came from witches were nothing more than fairy tales for ill behaved children. And as a man of human science, I found it difficult to believe in such things, especially magic.
“That’s right Mr. Kasky, you haven’t been here very long, have you?” Said Mrs. Jameson as smoke spilled out her mouth.
“It’s Doctor Kozlowski, but yes I’ve only been here ‘bout four months I believe.”
She rolled her eyes.
“Well, doctor, like many small towns, we all have our secrets.” She continued, “Ours just happens to be a devil woman in the woods.”
“That’s not true.” Elaine protested.
“Oh please, you’ve seen her too, Elaine.” She took another drag, “We’ve all seen her.”
I shook my head, organizing my thoughts. Two young girls were missing and here we were discussing a mystic witch in the woods. I turned to Elaine and rested my hands on her shoulders.
“I’m gonna go see if the Masons need my help.”
Her hands quickly grabbed mine.
“Harold,” she squeezed tightly, “Please be safe.”
Chapter Two
Subscribe to my newsletter for more updates on the novel!