The Lady From Sleepy Hollow

Mary

Katrina and I are nearly ready for tonight's party, styling each other's hair. I put Katrina's thick blonde hair in a half-up-half-down style, leaving her wavy hair simple and elegant. She looks up at me and asks, "Mary?"

"Hm?" I place a pin in her hair.

"Do you think you will meet someone else other than Dirk to love?"

I pause, and look at her in the mirror's reflection. I sigh and say, "I don't know. I hope so. You know that I only loved Dirk like a brother."

"Really?" She creases her brow at that. I nod. She muses, "Kind of how I feel about Brom. I love him, but I don't know if I love him."

"I understand," I tell her. "Nonetheless, you will find someone you love love, because who doesn't love you already."

She and I grin and laugh a little in embarrassment.

"You too, Mary. You're nearly twenty-six and still far more gorgeous than I," she compliments. I brush it off and smile kindly at her.

"Thank you, Katrina."

________ Ichabod ________

It's dusk when I step into the town square proper, passing a church and a graveyard during my stride. I see the road ahead is bordered by rows of businesses and two-story homes.

I pause and slowly turn around, taking in the surroundings in unsure speculation. I notice an elderly woman standing in a doorway, watching me grimly. The woman backs away into her home and shuts her door.

I continue on, glancing over the town. I look up, and see a man closing the shutters of his second-story window. Another woman does the same. As does another person. These odd behaviors are making me uncomfortable and a bit nervous.

As I press on, I see that there are two or three riflemen placed at vantage points on the roofs. Is it this paranoid all the time?

I look back in observation and see a rifleman up on the church tower. The whole village is like a Western town waiting for an attack.

When I pass most of the town buildings, I look to my right and notice a strange wooden bunker, sort of like a small fortress, with wooden stakes protruding it in a defensive manner, sitting in a field. Several dirt farmers, all with rifles, are gathered around it. I stop as I walk, looking at this bizarre sight.

A boy, who looks to be merely the age of ten, comes to whom I assume is the designated rifleman, with food and a stone bottle of drink. The older man takes the food and gives the boy an affectionate pat, smiling confidently. The man and boy, I detect, are father and son. The man heads into the bunker, taking a few rifles.

I peer past the front of the bunker, across a field, and see other dirt farmers light torch posts in a line along the forest edge. I ponder this as I trudge along, truly wondering what they are up against in terms of criminals.

I press on, looking ahead of me solemnly, to a large manor sitting upon a fog-ridden hill.

________ Mary ________

Katrina and I are dancing with our townsmen pure joy, drinking spirits and laughing. Brom has actually managed to get a dance with her. She gives me a slightly annoyed glance, clearly dissatisfied with having the man's hands on her. Although he treats her in the most modest way, she still doesn't care for him.

Fiddlers play celebratory tunes, the atmosphere of the room the most cheerily I have ever seen it.

When the song ends and another picks up, Katrina decides to play the Pickety-Witch game with the guests. I laugh delightedly as I watch, jumping in the game.