"Spiders of Salem" Prologue

Okay...so I'm finally putting the prologue of "Spiders of Salem" on here. Comments, criticisms (constructive), questions, admirations, hate mail, all welcome in the comments section. Sorry it took me so long, it's just that I had to retype it all on here, because the copy and paste was being retarded. Well...not really, it just wouldn't cooperate in the same font...which drove me crazy-and it wouldn't tab...which also drove me crazy. But anyway...here you go.

Prologue

Why exactly we moved away from England, I don't think I'll ever entirely understand. When I ask Father, he says it is so he can start a tailoring business and gain financial freedom. When I ask Mother, she says it is so we can become free and safe from the evils of the world and practice religion the way we want. When I ask them both together, they say it is so I can go the the best school the world has to offer.

"But there are good schools in London." I say.

"Not good enough for our boy." my father chuckles, ruffling my hair. I edge away and go down to my room in the ship's cabins. I hate it when he does that. As I sit there, I think of all the other reasons my family might want me to go to Salem. Perhaps they like the atmosphere there, away from all the hustle and bustle. I don't imagine I will. I miss London so much, and it does not help that we are only thirty knots from the shore of America. The captain says we will make it there by morning. I discard that idea and move on to the next. Maybe it is because they want me to make more friends, newer friends, better friends. I disagree. I had plenty of comrades in London. Just because they didn't agree with the crowd I spent my time with doesn't mean they would move away from London-does it? No, my parents are not that impulsive. I throw this idea away, too. Suddenly, a startling thought occurs to me. What if Father isn't a tailor at all? What if he deals in under-the-table secret practices with villains and spies? What if Father isn't as dull as I thought?

"Perhaps that is why we are moving away!" I think. Father must have done something wrong; he must have slipped up with a deal or made a mistake with his calculations, and we must move away to evade the men who are after our family. I am thrilled with my new discovery. I am well aware that it is most likely untrue, but it is getting late, I am tired, and this idea is so entertaining to me, I don't particularly care to let it go. I decide this is why we are heading to Salem, fleeing from the spies of the night that are after my father for his secrets. And with that I sleep, pursuers and secrets schemes dancing with me in my dreams.

I am violently jolted awake, flung off my bed by the intensity of the storm that is raging outside. Father comes and grabs me. "Come Daniel, you must hurry. There isn't any time! We must leave now!" he says, referring to my attempt to grab my sack of belongings to take with me. I reluctantly ignore it and run upstairs to the deck closely following him. Up here in the rain, everything is chaos. People from our home country are running left and right, grabbing sons and daughters; the young adults that foolishly came to make a fortune in America are wailing, "Oh, Lord! Forgive me of my sins!"

I can only follow in disbelief as my father hurries me along. I hear of ships caught in storms often, but most make it out safely. Our ship is strong and hardy, isn't it? My father bids me to stay put, and I watch him go the the captain's helm, where he begins shouting a conversation with him, but over the pouring rain and jarring movements of the boat, I cannot hear a word either of them is saying. With horror, I suddenly realize what had been making me feel an unusual hole. My mother! Where was she, and why had Father not gotten her. Father again has my hand, dragging me down the length of the deck until we reach the small getaway vessels.

"Get in the boats, Daniel!" he yells.

"What about Mother?" I call furiously back. "Why didn't we get her?" He doesn't answer my question, but simply repeats his command. "Daniel, get in the boat now!"

Without warning, he suddenly pushes me in, and a strong burly man grabs me. "Hold him there. He mustn't leave." my father tells the man. I struggle to get loose, but I am much too young, and the man holding me is much too big. Father gives me one last loving look, and runs back towards the cabins. Relief and terror hit me at the exact same moment. He has gone to save Mother, but the danger is just as terrible for him. I worry about them both now, and I wish I could be up there to help. However, this strange man's grip on me has not loosened any, so I can only scream and yell, tears streaming down my face, praying that they will be all right.

Our boat is being lowered down, slowly, by captain's orders, so as to allow my parents a chance to jump in should they come out in time. Just as we pass below the deck's edge, Father swings over and lands in our boat. Shoving the strange man away, he grabs me in his arms, clutching me as if he is afraid for both of our lives. I choke out, "Where's Mother?"

I look up at him. His face is horror-stricken, as if he had just seen hell itself. Tears are pouring off of his face, drowning out even the rain. "She's not there," he moans. "We had to leave before I could find her." I can no longer contain myself. Our boat hits the water, but I don't even notice, I am praying so hard. I have never prayed so truly in my life. I pray to God that she will be saved, that she can come to us, that she won't leave our family like this. A man in the boat shouts, and everything goes silent around me. Finishing my prayer, I look up to the deck, and my heart leaps. My prayer has been answered.

My mother is standing there, her dress in shambles, torn all down both sides, praying fervently herself, overcome with the Spirit of God. She waves her entire body back and forth, flinging her arms up and down. It makes me think of Jesus in the Bible, when he calmed the storms, and I believe Mother is praying for the exact same thing. She looks down and recognizes me.

"Daniel!" she screams.

I yell back as loud as my small voice can muster, "Come down, Mother, come down!" Her look changes to one of sadness, and I can only see her shake her head dejectedly. "Mother, come down! You can still make it!" Mother continues to look down at me with the same sadness in her eyes as before, and then, taking off her necklace, she looks straight at me-and drops it. Our boat is too far away, I realize. I must have her necklace. Throwing caution to the wind, I dive off the boat, the people within realizing me just too late to respond, having all been hypnotized by my mother's saint-like piety. My father dives in after me, but I don't care. I am only focused on one thing-my mother's necklace. Somehow, I watch it fall against the side of the ship, and just in front of my eyes, it falls below the surface. I plunge down into the icy water. I must have that necklace! Groping blindly, I pray again to God for a miracle, pleading with him to let me have this one part of my mother, and miraculously, I feel the chain in my hand. Almost immediately after, I feel my father's firm grip around my waist. He pulls me up, both of us coughing and choking. We reach the boat, and the crewmen pull us up. We are farther away from the ship now than ever.

I watch my mother's silhouette standing there, alone on the boat, a Christ calming the sea.. I pray to God a final time, begging him to let my mother live. Lightning suddenly strikes the boat, cracking in clean in half, violently giving me my answer.With shock, I realize Mother will not be coming on the boat with us. I can no longer keep myself composed, and I dissolve into my father's arms, sobbing fiercely, clutching the miniature, metal crucifix in my small hands.