Chapter 7 #2
“I have a feeling you’ve never been one of those people,” Skye said, shrugging as they walked to the restaurant. “The nature of the beast. But it’s been my experience that when we get a break—we get a break!”
“That’s true. And there’s the restaurant … and there. A table near the window, a man who appears to be in his late fifties, white hair, mustache, and goatee—he’s at a table for four and it appears that he’s looking for someone.”
Skye laughed softly.
“What?”
“He looks exactly like the stereotypical professor!” Skye said.
Zach smiled. “I guess he does.”
They headed into the restaurant. Apparently, they looked like Feds, too, because the professor rose as he saw them, ready to greet them.
“Lieutenant Bruns gave me a call. I didn’t get a chance for lunch today, so I hope you don’t mind joining me for dinner.”
“Ah, professors don’t always get to eat, either,” Zach said, glancing at Skye before shaking the man’s hand and introducing himself, showing his credentials and turning to her to do the same.
“Thanks, Professor, seriously, and oh! This dinner gets to be on law enforcement’s dime!” she told him.
“We’ve both been here before and love the place, too,” Zach told the man.
“Ah, great! Well, I can make a few suggestions,” Professor Stanley told them.
“Thanks! I’ve had their salads and I’ll be going in that direction,” Skye answered him, smiling.
“I guess I will, too,” Zach said, making a face. “Bad fast food for lunch—and a late lunch.”
“Ah, there’s our waiter! We’ll order and you can start asking me anything, and I’ll do my best to help in any way.”
They didn’t get to ask their questions right away after their waiter left their table; Professor Stanley broke into a bit of a tirade.
“Not that it’s not incredibly important history,” he told them, “but the only history anyone ever seems to get into here is that about the witchcraft trials! Not far from here, they’ve found proof that the first indigenous peoples, ancestors of our current Native Americans, were here as early as nine thousand to twelve thousand years ago.
In 1614, John Smith first surveyed the coast; in 1626, Roger Conant arrived here to start up the colony.
The first burial in the Old Burying Point, or Charter Street Cemetery, was in 1637.
Those are just dates. Important things happened here.
In 1636, just the year before, militia drilled on what is now the Salem Common, beginning what we now refer to as the National Guard.
War of 1812, all kinds of seafarers—some privateers among them, of course.
Yes, yes, 1692, the Salem Witch Trials began, but the first supposed witch hanged in the Colonies was Alse Young, in Connecticut.
But I’m guessing you two know that. What you may not know is that in Salem in the 1840s, the area began desegregating schools.
In 1854, they passed a law ‘prohibiting all distinctions of color and religion in Massachusetts public school admissions.’ Admirable things happened here, too, but …
well, I guess tourism thrives on ghosts and what was once evil.
Nowadays the only so-called witches we have around belong to our wiccan community, and those people—”
“Would do no evil, lest it come back at them three times,” Skye said, interrupting politely.
“And there you have it!” Professor Stanley said. “Just like—”
“True voodoo, demonized by Papa Doc and Hollywood,” Zach offered.
Professor Stanley nodded, and they all gave their attention to their waiter as he arrived with their drinks—a scotch for the professor and coffee for Skye and Zach.
“Ah, on duty still, eh?” the professor asked.
“Yeah, pretty much so on duty unless we’re sleeping,” Zach said. “But we get time in there in between assignments. Sir, what we’ve been told is that you are a beloved instructor—kids like it that you give emotion with your lectures.”
The professor laughed. “Ah, yes! I tell them stories about the deep, dark woods; what it was like to fear and to not understand the indigenous people—a people who knew the woods and the darkness. Today college-aged students just think that everyone in the village at the time had to be stupid. Which is odd, seeing how kids—and some adults—automatically believe anything they read on the Internet, but … anyway, yes, I get a little dramatic. I describe the darkness, the wind rustling through brush and trees … I try to explain that Puritans were devout and, yes, unaccepting of others, and that in their religion, any possibility of magic, demons, or Satan himself was something terrifying, and that those who might have been influenced by him needed to be executed.”
“But you don’t believe the devil is running around in the woods yourself, do you?” Skye asked him, frowning.
He shook his head, letting out a soft laugh.
“No, I do not. Of course, I go on to explain how those who weren’t really malicious in any way might inadvertently be guided by other things—fear of a person, even resentment against them for anything they saw as a hurt, or who knows?
Some say that they might have been influenced by greed as well—that it might have been a land grab.
The average person might have just gotten swallowed up in it.
Or perhaps the average person was afraid of protesting, since they might be accused as well. ”
“There’s a strong possibility that many were afraid to protest,” Zach agreed. “Sir, of course, you know about what’s been going on.”
“Yes, of course, and it’s horrible. The news, naturally, blasted all the information. Nationwide. And there have been unverified reports that police suspect someone dressing up as a witch, but not the human-form witches of the past, rather a movie or Halloween version of a witch.”
Zach nodded. “We think it’s possible. But as for the very idea of a witch—”
“I am a professor. I teach facts. Not characters made up in a book, no matter how wonderful a book might be.”
Their entrees arrived and they all thanked the waiter.
When he was gone, Skye leaned forward slightly and said, “Professor, we were hoping that you might know about someone who has followed the history too closely, perhaps someone who understood too clearly the Puritan version of the devil. Someone who …”
“You mean, do I know about anyone who could be doing any of this?” Professor Stanley asked.
“Frankly, yes,” Zach said.
The professor frowned thoughtfully. “Not offhand. I can go through my files—I’ve been teaching for years, you know.
Many of my students are Salem residents, or they live nearby in Peabody, Lynn, Swampscott, Danvers …
the area, you know. Of course, people come to the university here from all over, but …
we do have a lot of locals or a lot of students from Massachusetts.
I thought that the wicked-witch thing was just a rumor or supposition, but …
I will do everything in my power to help, I promise. ”
Skye glanced at Zach. He gave her a barely perceptible nod.
The professor seemed to be the real deal. Of course, his students did love his theatrics.
Still …
He was a fine dinner companion. He talked about the seafaring history of the area; how Salem men had served in the wars; how the Massachusetts 54th Infantry Regiment had been the second formed by voluntary African Americans in 1863, after the Emancipation Proclamation, and how they had then been followed by a creation of about 150 such units across the country.
He was proud of Massachusetts, proud of Salem.
“There will always be a few bad eggs in society, in groups, in states … and during certain years. The witch hunts, we see today, were horrid. Across the globe, they were horrid and remain so in a few places. A few bad eggs—malcontents—can cause real harm, and that’s why it’s up to the rest of us to stand strong against them! ”
By the time dinner was over, Skye realized she admired the man. A lot.
And she silently prayed that her faith in him would be proven to be the right thing.
Back in the car, she turned to Zach as they drove the short distance to their rental lodging.
“I am really starting to wish I were a mind reader!” she told him.
“Thus far, Patricia’s roommates seem to be truly crushed and worried about her.
Professor Stanley came off as sincere to me, just a man who is passionate about history.
Mr. Howell couldn’t have been pretending his near hysteria—understandable—over his wife and child. But we’re not finding anything!”
“Not true. We know something,” Zach said.
“There are at least two individuals involved, and they like to dress up while kidnapping people. We know they did whisk Patricia and Jeremy through the woods—but probably to a back road. We found a shack they weren’t using as any kind of a ‘stay there’ hideout—but they did use it in passing through.
Skye, we never thought this was going to be easy.
And we know the kids are alive. Now I have something of Patricia’s.
We’ll get back to our place alone, and I’ll see what I can see through Patricia’s brush. ”
“What did you think of Professor Stanley?”
“He appeared to be passionate about Salem, the State of Massachusetts, and history. I have a feeling his dramatics are to try to get his students to understand how some of the people may have been feeling back then—and how many wouldn’t have dared disagreed with the arrests of their neighbors because of their fear of being arrested.
And let’s face it, people become part of their society. ”
“It just seems hypocritical to me,” Skye said.
“What’s that?”