Running from Rope

Chapter 2

I stared at Issac, feeling my mouth drop. He put two fingers under my chin and closed my mouth. “I doubt thou would like to catch flies. I didn’t take thee as the bug eating type, no matter how strange ye were at first.” He made a teasing grin, but it didn’t reach his eyes. I still didn’t say anything. My mind was frozen. Issac, the first friend I had made since my parents had died, was going to die the day after I met him. I couldn’t let this happen.

“But- but- thou can’t possibly have been accused. How could they even think-“ Issac shushed me.

“’Twas partly my fault. Though my father had regretted betraying the Putnams, I still despised them. I suppose they noticed my cold stares and instead of returning them, decided to do this instead.” He gazed sadly at me. “Abigal, do not worry yourself. I will be fine. Worrying shall only-“

“I won’t let this happen.” I cut him off. A plan had formed in my mind. It wasn’t a great plan, since it included Victor, but it was a plan nonetheless. “I have a plan. ‘Tis not much, but all we have.”

“No Abigal. Ye will not do anything for me do ye hear?” Isaac’s voice was stern, but somehow by looking at his eyes I knew he was scared.

“Isaac.” I said, mimicking his stern tone. “If I don’t do this for ye, I will admit to being a witch, and get myself hanged. I promise ye that. When I watched my parents get hanged, I was helpless but now-“ Isaac’s eyes widen as he cut me off.

“Parents? Hanged? Abigal, were thou’s parents accused of witchcraft as well?” I mentally scolded myself as I realized I had let that slip.

“Well, yes. But ‘tis not the point. My point is, I was helpless then, but not now. I shall not stand by and watch those Putnams take another innocent life.” I said, feeling the finality in my own voice. I watched as Isaac sat there, his pants covered in straw, his shirt torn slightly at the bottom. For some reason, my mind compared him to Victor. Isaac’s eyes were a bright green, Victor’s a dull brown. They both had the same hair color, though Victor’s was short and greasy while Isaac’s was long enough to just brush his eyelids. It wasn’t greasy, though I saw a bit of straw poking out of his hair toward the back. My eyes lowered, and studied his face, but before I could make any observations I saw his lips move and close. I blinked, not realizing what this meant until his voice pierced my thoughts.

“Abigal? Did thou hear me? I did ask what this plan of thou’s was.” Isaac’s voice questioning, though his eyes showed amusement. I mentally noted that his voice did not seem to match his eyes much, and I should probably look at this eyes more to know the truth rather than listen to his voice. “Abbbiiiggaaalll?” He sang. I shook my head.

“What?” I asked, my voice dull. “Oh! My plan. Yes.” I stood up, and walked toward the bars. “Guard?” I said. No answer. “Guard?” I said a little louder this time.

“What?!” and angry voice replied. I flinched, but continued.

“May I ask a request?” I asked, as the guard came into view. Burly, short cropped hair, and the faint smell of alcohol on him. Typical.

“What?” he grunted.

“May I see Victor Putnam?” I said, in the sweetest voice I could muster.

“The minister’s boy?” His voice, though still rough, now had the tone of curiosity. “I will send a message, and if he wants to see ye, he can come. Though why he would like to see such an ugly witch I have no idea.” He muttered the last part under his breath, though loud enough for me to hear. I slumped to the floor, discouraged. Isaac came over to me.

“Ye aren’t ugly Abigal. Thou art one of the fairest girls I have seen.” His tone, sweet as honey, and his eyes told me he meant it.

“’Tis not that which bothers me. ‘Tis Victor.” I mumbled, and laid down onto the straw.