In Our Field

My arm wrapped around my husband, his warm winter coat scratches my arm but I don’t mind I am too nervous to care. We are sitting in the back of the capital right in the middle of Williamsburg. The bottom of my worn dress brushes against the hard wooden seats in the back of the courtroom. The large circular windows let little bits of warm light into the cold candle lit space. The wooden gate that would separate us from the witch wasn’t thick enough. Through the doors in the back of the rich room you could hear all the fussing around, it made me even more nervous. Two big men come out of the large fancy doors with huge muskets in their arms.

“All rise for the judge,” the larger man said banging his gun on to the ground making the whole room shake. I force my wobbly legs to stand for the judge as he comes in, still clinging on to me husband for extra support. He enters the room as if he was so used to all the attention that it was like breathing for him. His shoes clunk on the creaky wood and eco all the way down the room. Each clunk silences one more person that was whispering to the next. His dry, cracked hands, hit the wooden gate and open it carefully.  He turns to the left of the semi circle that the officials sit at. The stiff white men get even stiffer as he walks by them. The judge sits down and raises one hand swiftly. Everyone then takes their seats and all at once the benches and wooden chairs creak and squeak.  An even quieter hush falls over the crowd, this time the quietness is more severe. Through the gate you could see a small wooden table that the attorney had set up. The attorney was a thinner man, not as thin as me or my husband though. His face is as proud as if he had already won the trial, he hadn’t yet but we all knew he would. The fussing behind the door grew even louder, I could feel the witch approaching us. the doors burst open with two more men holding a woman back. She looked frightened, scared, and stressed. She knew as well as attorney did that she wasn’t going to win this trial, unlike times before. She looks around the room making eye contact with every person she can, she knows she must make some people feel guilty for her to have even the slightest chance to win. My head stays down she can’t distract me, she can’t make me change my mind, she is a witch a horrible terrible witch. as I look down at my feet, I close my eyes and remember when I saw her dancing in the field.

It was a cool spring day, about a week ago, and I was outside taking a little stroll through the little property we have. My husband at work, my sons at work too. Me, being as clumsy as I am trip over my long dress. You would think I would be pretty good at walking in the stiff clothes after 25 years of practice, but I’m not. The tip of my shoe catches the end of the dress and I fall onto the cobblestone steps. I put one hand down onto the cool stone helping myself up. Picking the dress up slowly so that I could stand up easier I noticed something out of the corner of my eye. A man, no a woman on my field wearing men’s clothing. A gize of light in front of her, she dances around a fire as if no one was watching her. But I was, I saw. My husband had said that he had experienced and seen this same thing before, of course at the time I thought he was going mad, as if I was going to believe that a woman was in men’s clothing dancing on our field. We have always thought that this woman was a little bit strange, a widow, strange marks on her arms and face, but now we had confirmed this she was most definitely a witch.  

I’m interrupted from my train of thought. It’s my husband tapping me on the shoulder he leans over and whispers into my ear,“It’s time,” he says. I know what this means, we must go explain these terrible sightings to the judge and all his people. He guides me with the same scratchy coat up to the same wooden gate. I take a deep breath in, and let it out. The attorney motions for me to begin my conviction and I do, “It was a cool spring, about a week ago…