The Gunslinger

Charlie's Problem (Scene 01)

The small wooden house at the edge of the forest had already been half taken back by nature. Moss grew on the shingles, vines snuck through the crevices between the outer walls and a tree's root was snaking it's way through the floor of Charlie's house. But the Witch liked it that way.

Her's was the house closest to the forest, all other townspeople having build their homes further away from the wood's edge and closer to the village's center. Charlie enjoyed being so close to the forest and away from the loud market and festivals that often happened in Elwood's center.

And it was useful, because that way no one would see her when she snuck into the forest in the dead of night to collect herbs, berries, and chips of tree bark, or when she danced among the spirits and called out to nameless Gods and forgotten ancestors.

The villagers wouldn't understand. They didn't understand when they burned her mother for witchcraft and they wouldn't understand if they ever caught her doing the same.

Elwood was gleaming with Charlie's and her late mother's traces of magic and yet the townspeople were blind to it. They believed that all their hard work and praying were what brought in the good rain, the tame winds and the rich harvests - but most of it was Charlie's doing.

She cured mystery illnesses in newborn babes and children, healed ailments with a few cups of tea or a herb-infused bath; she spoke hushed words in dead languages over a bonfire during Autumn's Eve and spilled steaming, murky brews over the fields in the dead of night when no one saw.

Charlotte Bullion was the life-force of the town and though the villagers feared what her mother had been (and had only accepted the little girl after her mother's death because no one could bear the thought of killing a seemingly innocent child), they loved the quiet forager living at the edge of their town.

Children were naturally drawn to her, enjoying her stories and tales, the berries she brought them from deep within the forests and the wild animals only she could manage to calm enough so as to allow the children close.

Men and women alike enjoyed her company, too. She had a certain charisma that made others ignore her odd behavior and the constant longing for the forest that shone through her green eyes.

A young man named Bill, a farmer from Elwood, had taken a certain (quite obvious) liking to Charlie. The witch herself was sure it was only her looks that attracted the man to her but he was adamant that she was the love of his life in every way.

She kept refusing his advances but was polite throughout, more so than he deserved, most women secretly agreed.

Bill was the son of the town's mayor and thus an influential man. If influence were something Charlie desired, she might even have considered taking Bill up on one of his countless offers but she didn't, and all she wanted was for him to leave her alone. He wasn't the only suitor to offer himself to her but so far she'd refused them all. And whilst most had taken it in stride, Bill didn't.

One night, he came to her home and knocked thrice, startling the witch who had just been preparing to leave through her house's backdoor and escape to the woods for a nightly walk.

"Oh, Bill." She sighed when she opened the door and saw him, the flames of her candle reflecting in his dark blue eyes.

"Charlotte." He said, and produced a bouquet of flowers from behind his back. It wasn't an ugly bouquet of flowers but she could see that it was freshly plucked and even had an inkling whose flowerbeds he had raided for it. "This is my last plea to you, won't you take me as your man?" He sounded so sincere that Charlie's heart wanted to warm but it couldn't. She knew Bill too well and though his voice was sweet like honey, it wouldn't be for long.

The witch didn't move to take the flowers and leaned against the doorframe.

"We've talked about this, I'm not interested in your offer." She replied, pulling the shawl back up to where it had dropped from her shoulder.

"You should be thanking me." Bill said sourly and dropped his hands back to his side, the bouquet still clutched tightly in his hand. She glanced down at the flowers and saw how he crushed their unfortunate stems with his unrelenting grip. "No one would want a witch for a wife, I'm kind to offer to take your hand despite the blackness of your soul, the Lord knows."

Charlie met his gaze again, a pitying frown on her face as she shook her head.

"The Lord knows you're no kind man, Bill Padick."

As she should've guessed, that angered the Mayor's son quite a lot. His expression turned from bitter to livid and Charlie took a step back into the safety of her home. Her hand itched for the nearest empty potion bottle but it would take her at least a slight jump to get close enough to reach it.

She hoped it wouldn't come to it but she'd break it over that dull idiot's head if she had to. Bill Padick wasn't generally a man who was known for his violent tendencies but he was a show-off and prone to loud yelling. Since it was night-time, Charlie would rather avoid the latter if she could.

"I should have you stoned on the spot for such foul words, witch." Bill seemed to mull over some words in his head before he eventually added: "You'll regret not leaving Elwood after we burned your mother, Charlotte." He spat on her shoes, threw the flowers on the ground and marched away without so much as another glance.

But he wasn't heading home. Charlie was holding her breath as she watched Bill march to the Sheriff's office, the window lit by many candles even at this late hour. She knew what the Mayor's son was out to do - exactly what he'd threatened to do for so long, should she not take his hand in marriage.

He was going to claim her a witch and whether he had any proof or not, the word of the Mayor's son weighed much heavier than that of a Witch's daughter.