A Sure Cure for Witchcraft, page 14
Each morning, Lilli placed a mark inside Alisz’s book to keep track of the passing days. How long will it take for us to reach land? she wondered, as seven days slowly turned into fourteen, then twenty-one, with still no end in sight. Every day Lilli counted the marks, hoping she would discover that the number had miraculously doubled or tripled over night and they were closer to their destination. She knew the length of the voyage would depend greatly upon the weather. If the winds did not fill their sails as it should, they could very well drift about aimlessly, while a fierce storm might send them far off course. Both could add days or weeks to their voyage.
When the other children went off to explore the vessel, Lilli kept to herself. She would sometimes open the stillroom book and try to distinguish the images in the dim light inside the ship. She would then test her knowledge of herbs by going over some of the cures in her mind—willow bark for fever; chamomile for digestion and sleep, feverfew for relieving headache, stress, and inflammation; raspberry leaf for easing the pain of childbirth. It would be important to know these things once she arrived in the New World. She would not have Alisz there to ask questions.
“Come up on deck,” Mutter coaxed one day. “We are having another prayer meeting.” Lilli sometimes heard Mutter praying during the night even when it was not stormy, and most days she went up to the deck with some of the other women to pray for their safe arrival in the New World.
“Do you think God approves of our leaving Württemberg?” Lilli asked, but Mutter did not answer.
“Can you not find yourself a friend on board this big ship?” Mutter asked Lilli one day. “It will make the time go faster. You need to let go of your misery.”
“Why would I want to make a friend?” said Lilli fervently. “So that we can say goodbye once we reach land?” Lilli had no need for ordinary friends. She had a soul-friend, and that friendship would last for this lifetime and beyond.
One day, when she could no longer stand to be confined to the darkness, Lilli wandered up on the deck for some fresh air. There were many people standing about, taking in the air and sunshine. A sudden burst of laughter reached her ears and she looked toward the sound. A number of children were racing around the deck playing tag, Friedrich among them. On the far side of the deck, Mutter and Vater were in deep conversation with a couple who had travelled down the Rhine with them, and they did not see her when she crawled up from down below. For that Lilli was glad. She did not know what she would say to Vater anyway. Knowing that he insisted that Mutter keep secrets from her only deepened her anger.
The breeze tugged and pulled at her as she stood looking out across the endless horizon. There was not a tree, much less a leaf, in sight. Sunlight sparkled on the crest of the waves and for a brief moment her spirits lifted. She even dared wonder if this new world they were sailing off to would have some of the same healing plants that grew back home in Württemberg. But just as that small spark of hope began to pulse brighter, Lilli pulled back, reminding herself that this new land was not Württemberg and never would be.
“Life can send us in many different directions in the course of just one lifetime,” Alisz had told her before she left. “Remember to keep an open mind. Do not compare the things you had with the things you will have. They are not the same, but both can be equally good. Always look ahead, Lilli, and do not long for what has been left behind.” Not looking back was more difficult than it sounded. There were sure to be many differences in this new land, and it might not resemble Württemberg in any way. But what if Alisz was mistaken? What if she did not find any good in the New World? It was something she needed to prepare for.
A brisk wind whipped around the bow of the ship. Lilli pulled her arms across her body for warmth. She looked around at the passengers out on the deck, old people, young people, men, women, and children, and she felt suddenly alone. Again her thoughts turned toward Alisz. She found herself wondering about this safe place Alisz had gone to.
“I am glad to see that you finally found your way up to the deck.” Minna’s sudden appearance startled Lilli. The young children were still clinging to her, eyes now dark and hollow, and the child in her arms was whining.
Lilli looked at Minna and forced a smile. “It is so dark down there,” she said. “I missed the sunshine.”
“I have been looking for you every day,” said Minna. She hooked a stray lock of hair behind Lilli’s ear. The young child in her arms squirmed to be released and she let him down onto the deck to run around.
“Keep watch over Stefan, and do not get too close to the railing or you will fall overboard,” she told the oldest girl, who did not seem old enough to look out for herself, let alone a child barely able to walk.
“When will your child be born?” Lilli asked.
“I am hoping it will wait until we reach land, but I overheard someone say that a storm could take us off course and our trip could take much longer.” Lilli silently prayed that would not be the case. Minna paused and looked out across the endless waves. Concern stretched across her face. As she turned toward Lilli, tears formed in her eyes.
“For now, I am trying not to think of all the things that could go wrong.” Minna smiled, but Lilli was not fooled. Behind the pleasant exterior she was showing others, fear and sadness were hiding. “I have heard there is no surgeon onboard,” Minna added.
“Do not worry,” said Lilli touching the girl’s hand. “If your time comes while you are on the ship, I can help.”
Minna looked at her doubtfully. “You are not very old,” she said. “What could you possibly do?”
“In Württemberg I worked with a midwife. There are things I know. I could help…that is, if you should need me,” she added.
“That is very kind of you,” said Minna. She sighed. “I wanted to wait until the child was born, but Hans was afraid the boats might stop sailing and the land grants would be gone.”
“We do not always get the thing we want,” said Lilli, looking out across the wide expanse.
In the quiet of the evening, Lilli overheard Vater making plans with some of the other men. They spoke about owning their own plot of land, raising crops and animals, and building homes from nothing.
On clear, warm nights, Vater and Friedrich slept out on the deck beneath the night sky with many of the other passengers. Lilli and Mutter remained cramped in the dark in a space scarcely large enough for the two of them, let alone Vater and Friedrich. Although the air inside the berth was suffocating, Lilli knew she could not bear to look up at the same moon that was shining down on Württemberg. At night, she rested her head on Alisz’s book with thoughts of home pressed deeply in her mind.
New Germany, Nova Scotia, 2019
Lilly reached for her backpack and unzipped the small pocket in front. She took out a folded piece of paper with instructions for the soul-friend ceremony. She and Alice each took a sip of herbal tea and, exchanging glasses, drank once again.
“This bigger glass represents a unity chalice.” Lilly poured her remaining tea into it, telling Alice to do the same. The flickering candles cast small shadows on the wall behind Alice. Lilly handed her the paper with the words she had found on the internet.
“I will go first,” she said. “Just read what is on your paper. When we are done, we’ll take turns drinking from the unity glass.” She took a deep breath and began.
“I am your friend,” said Lilly.
Alice hesitated, but eventually replied, “I am also your friend.” Slowly, they went through the steps of the soul-friend ceremony. Next, they poured their tea into the unity goblet and each took a drink. What would it feel like to suddenly remember a past life? In the moments that followed, Lilly waited anxiously for a transformation, but nothing came.
“Do you feel any different?” she asked. Alice shook her head. “Me neither.” Suddenly she remembered the gift she’d brought and handed it to Alice. Perhaps the book would jar something loose. That had to be it!
“It’s the book I gave you when you were small!” Alice sounded delighted. Slowly opening the cover, she looked at Lilly’s drawings from years ago. Lilly eagerly waited for something unusual to happen—exactly what, she wasn’t sure. The cinnamon-haired woman had said that when the time was right, she’d know what to do. But nothing she’d done so far had unlocked any memories.
Maybe Alice was right. What she’d been experiencing were just dreams. There really were no memories. Maybe the dreams meant nothing at all, except that she had a very active imagination. She’d done everything the site said to do, but she didn’t feel any different.
Lilly bit back her disappointment. She’d been wrong; the soul-friend ceremony had failed. She hadn’t known Alice in another lifetime. She’d been foolish to think she had. It was the false memories Alice had spoken of, and Lilly had convinced herself they were true.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Atlantic Ocean, 1752
“When will we reach the New World? I am tired of the dark, smelly ship.”
Lilli did not want to hear any more of Friedrich’s endless laments. All along he was the one who had been so excited to set sail across the sea. But now that the adventure had grown old, he no longer wanted a part in it.
“Go off and play,” Vater ordered when he could no longer stand the sound of Friedrich’s whining. Friedrich disappeared with some of the others boys his age, returning many hours later, tired and hungry yet scarcely picking at the barley and rice Mutter gave him to eat. Lilli couldn’t blame him. What she wouldn’t give for a fresh loaf of bread. The food on the ship was ghastly. Even with the hunger she felt, she dreaded the thought of mealtime. Not once since boarding had they eaten a palatable meal. Even the sweet, sticky treacle Mutter added did not make the food appetizing. Lilli looked down at the rice and barley with small bits of salt meat. In time her stomach would stop feeling empty. If only Mutter did not insist she eat at least a few mouthfuls for each meal.
“I know it is bad, Lilli, but it is all we have,” Mutter would say, picking gingerly at the food.
“I would rather eat a dead rat.”
“Do not say such things,” scolded Mutter. “We need to be thankful for what we do have regardless of what that is. The Lord will provide for us, but we have to meet Him halfway.”
The water that had been brought onboard for the journey was stale and murky. Vinegar was added to it, but still it did not make it palatable. Lilli forced herself to drink small sips only when her thirst became too much to bear. When the rain came, Mutter set a pot on deck to collect fresh rainwater. Far worse than the meals and the water were the buckets with human waste they were forced to use, with little privacy. People were constantly seasick, retching the contents of their stomach into the same buckets. The smell that filled the ship’s hold was overpowering. Each day, Vater would climb through the hatch with their bucket and dump it over the side of the ship.
Lilli was still angry with Vater and refused to speak to him. If he noticed her anger, he did not let on. She could not stop thinking about the horrible atrocities he’d shouted outside Alisz’s house the night of the fire, nor his refusal to tell her the secret he insisted Mutter keep from her.
“There is no point in sulking. You might just as well face the day with a smile rather than a frown,” Mutter said to Lilli one day. Lilli told Mutter she couldn’t pretend to be happy when she’d never felt such misery in all her life.
“You are homesick, is all. You will become accustomed to the change. We both will. We have no choice.” Lilli could tell by the sound of Mutter’s voice that she did not even believe her own words.
“Then tell me what you’ve kept from me all these years,” she said. Mutter turned away.
“I cannot tell you. You must accept that some things are not for children to know. I made a vow. I will not break my word.” Lilli’s cheeks were ablaze. Why was Mutter being so difficult?
Once again, she left Lilli with a hundred unanswered questions sizzling on her tongue.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
The sea breeze showered Lilli with bursts of salty air that matted her long blond hair. Standing on the weathered deck of the ship, she watched the clouds roll and rumble. That morning she had counted the marks she’d made in Alisz’s book. They had been on the open sea for thirty-one days, prisoners to the constant rocking back and forth of the waves.
Secrets had been kept from her her entire life. Even Mutter refused to talk. Her life was nothing more than lies and pretence. Somehow Alisz was involved. This was no way to begin her new life with things left unresolved from her life in Württemberg.
Staring out across the water, Lilli hoped to see something, anything on the horizon. Out on the water the waves moved in gigantic gulps, gaining in strength as the day progressed. Whitecaps moved up and down, slapping the side of the ship. There was not a single solid object on the water that Lilli could see. They were but a small speck on the ocean’s wide expanse, solitary and alone, yet many. There was not even another ship in sight.
The sea grew, swelling beneath gale-force winds as the day progressed. Lilli could feel the storm’s mighty anger within her as she watched the clouds continue to build throughout the day. The sails were taken down. When the rain began to hammer the deck, they were herded below like cattle. Vents were closed and oil lamps snuffed out. Darkness held Lilli so tightly in its grip that she could not move. A pungent stench filled the air. Buckets were passed back and forth between those who were seasick.
Lilli’s stomach heaved. A burning gush of bile rose in her throat and she forced it back down. Reaching into her bag of belongings, she took out some dried peppermint leaves to help settle her stomach. Mutter knelt nearby in prayer, clutching her Bible. Her murmurs blended with those of the other women while the ship was tossed about by the fury of the wind and waves. The sound was a haunting mixture of fear and resolve as the women begged God to keep them safe.
The children cried and wailed long into the night while the ship continued to creak and groan. Lilli feared the ship would be ripped apart at the seams. She closed her eyes and imagined that she was safe at home in her bed instead of being tossed about on the relentless, angry sea. She thought about the sweet smell inside Alisz’s stillroom, and the finches warbling in the garden on summer days, and slowly, reluctantly, she fell into restless sleep. She dreamed she was back home in Württemberg, running happily through a field of lily-of-the-valley. A melodic lullaby repeated over and over, a song Lilli was familiar with.
The moon has been rising,
the stars in golden guising
adorn the heavens bright.
The woods stand still in shadows,
and from the meads and meadows
lift whitish mists into the night.
The world is stillness clouded
and soft in twilight shrouded,
so peaceful and so fair.
Just like a chamber waiting,
where you can rest abating
the daytime’s mis’ry and despair.
Behold the moon—and wonder
why half of her stands yonder,
yet she is round and fair.
We are the ones who’re fooling
’cause we are ridiculing
as our minds are unaware.
Unable to open her eyes for even a brief moment, Lilli realized it was Alisz singing the lullaby, telling her not to worry.
By morning, the waters were calm once more. When Lilli awoke, fresh air was streaming in through the vents and the lamps were lit once again. Vater had been watching her sleep, she realized, as she opened her eyes. But before she could ask him to tell her the secret that had been kept from her, he quickly walked away. Wrapping her arms around Alisz’s book for comfort, she hoped they would soon reach land. Closing her eyes, Lilli dreamed of Württemberg.
She imagined all the places she used to go to with Alisz when they searched for wild plants, and walking to the village with Mutter to buy goods at the market. She thought about the sun rising over the hills behind the home where she had lived her entire life. She dreamed of running barefoot through the meadow in the springtime. So enthralled was she by the images playing out in her mind that she did not hear her name being called until someone gently shook her shoulder. Gasping, Lilli snapped open her eyes.
“Minna needs you.” Hans was standing over her, concern written across his face. “She said you would come. There is no one else on board who can help.”
“Tell her I will be there soon,” said Lilli. Rummaging through her belongings, she chose one of the bags of herbs. Hurrying her way on deck to steep some tea for Minna, Lilli went over all the things Alisz had taught her about childbirth. She could only hope that she would remember it and that nothing out of the ordinary took place. This was Minna’s fourth child, after all. Surely all would go well.
“Are you sure this will help?” said Minna, looking up at Lilli. Her voice suggested hope, but there was fear lurking in her eyes. Minna had hoped they would reach land before the baby arrived, but that was not to be the case.
“Raspberry leaf tea is most helpful for women in childbirth,” said Lilli, holding the cup to Minna’s lips. Minna reached out for the tea and took a sip.
“This child is in a hurry,” she said, smiling between the pains.
“They come in their own time,” said Lilli, something she had heard Alisz say on several occasions. She beckoned for Minna to drink more of the tea.
“This is four times, and each time has been different,” said Minna, handing the empty cup back to Lilli. “I am glad you are here.” She lightly squeezed Lilli’s hand. Regardless of any misgivings Lilli might have, she knew she had to keep her feelings to herself. The dark, smelly area below deck was hardly an ideal place to bring a child into the world. But there was no other choice. She had asked Mutter to pray that all would go well. As for Lilli, she could only hope there would be no difficulties like the night Frau Ludwig’s child was born. Her bag did not contain any birthing powder. She wouldn’t know what to do with it anyway. There were only the raspberry leaves. They would have to do.
