The Sky Dwellers

By Leah Shrifter

God has blessed Rachel Wilkes with a gift: she can hear your unspoken thoughts, your dreams, your desires, and feel what you feel. Living in a Puritan society where individuality is suspect and forbidden, Rachel is forced to hide her special difference. If she is discovered, she could be condemned for witchcraft and burned at the stake. Though forced to hide her special difference, Rachel refuses to give it up. For many years, she can truly be herself only with Jeannie, her devoted cat companion, who also can hear Rachel.

Convinced she is alone with her gift, she stumbles upon people from far away who also hear. They come from a distant world she cannot fathom. Just as the people of her town would fear her unique power, Rachel would be terrified of the aliens strange differences.

In a devastating act of Nature, Rachel loses her family, and she is lonelier than ever. Ostracized, shunned as a witch, she fears for her life as well as for Jeannies. When Jeannies life is threatened, Rachel must reveal her powerful gift to save her dearest companion.

Before she can find a home where she can truly love and be loved for all she is, even her differences, Rachel must learn to love the alien man who is so much like her, yet frighteningly different. In her turn, she must accept and embrace someone else who is different.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Trafford Publishing
• Release date: Jun 30, 2009
• ISBN: 9781426940002

Book preview

Contents

Acknowledgments

SARAH

RACHEL

OTHERS

JONAH

THE DOLPHINS

REBECCA

JEANNIE

LIVING ALONE

LETTING GO

DIEGO

NOT ALONE

PREY

THE BONDING

THE SKY DWELLERS

Acknowledgments

Many individuals helped and inspired me when I wrote The Sky Dwellers, even my cat, who probably inspires me every day.

Thanks to all of you who read my stories: Tom, Beth, Julie, Bob, Heather, Madge, John, Janet, June, Callan, Laurie and Loretta.

J.T.: Thank you for answering my questions.

Kahleen: Thanks for sharing your knowledge of horses.

Kate: Thank you for the very thorough editing. I learned so much!

Genii: Thank you for just being yourself.

Tom: Thank you for all the computer coaching, listening to my stories, and loving me so that I could do what I have always wanted to do.

SARAH

Each time Sarah Wilkes carried a child, she heard the new being speak to her from within. The young Christian mother was filled with happiness. Far back in her life she held a shadowed memory of loving her mother even before she was born, so it seemed natural that she should hear her growing infants within her. Although convinced the special bond was part of pregnancy, common sense made her cautious and she did not tell anyone of her joyful communication. She had never heard mention of this blessing in another woman, so she feared her husband and the morally rigid townspeople would accuse her of witchcraft.

When her first child, Rebecca, grew within her, Sarah wondered nervously if she really was a witch. Once born, the baby girl quickly lost the hearing bond, and the memory of it, so Sarah ceased to worry. Matthew and Daniel also spoke to their mother while she carried them, but they were even quicker than their sister to lose the memory.

In all, Sarah bore the Reverend Nathaniel Wilkes four strong children, two daughters first and last, and two sons in between them. Rachel was their fourth and last child, although Sarah miscarried a baby boy early in her pregnancy three years later. She had heard very little from him and was grief-stricken when she lost him. She had not felt in him the same joyous strength of his brothers and sisters. Sarah never mentioned anything of this to her husband or to the children once they had forgotten.

The Reverend Nathaniel Wilkes was a stern and somber minister in all outward appearances. His eyes and hair were dark brown, his skin stark and pale. A strict disciplinarian, he allowed no challenges to his authority. He was a passionate man who fully believed in his calling. He thrust his very soul into his fiery sermons. As the faithful listeners shifted uncomfortably on the hard wooden benches in the old church, they didn’t know whether to be in awe of his energy or afraid of hellfire.

Nathaniel Wilkes’s passion extended to his beautiful, dutiful wife. He was not a man who often spoke of his love, least of all to his patient and pleasant Sarah. He adored her for her almond-shaped green eyes, red auburn hair, fine complexion, and comely figure as much as for her sweet disposition. He loved her well, and often. The loss of their fifth child saddened him much more than he let on. However, he was not long discouraged from approaching his wife. Sarah never refused her husband, but she did not conceive again. Perhaps this was because she could never again bear such a loss. But more likely, she was terrified for her youngest child’s safety.

Rachel was stronger than Sarah’s older children. As she grew within her mother, she spoke to her constantly, even waking her as she slept—as though it were not already hard enough to sleep while being with child! At times, Sarah was so elated with the connection that she found it impossible to hide from her husband the tears of love that wet her pale face. Then with relief she realized that Nathaniel thought her emotions common enough in a woman carrying a child.

Sarah gave birth to Rachel on a clear, spring night. The moon was full and radiant. She had little pain and rested comfortably between spasms. The luminous moon smiled at her through the unshuttered window. She had requested of Nathaniel that he leave the shutters open so that she could enjoy the soft moonlight. Then, seemingly out of nowhere, a solitary cloud appeared by the side of the moon. It crept over the celestial light until it blanketed it completely. The room grew very dark. Sadness swept through the mother; her muscles rippled with tension. She was not superstitious—at least, not for the time in which she lived—but she could not help feeling this sign portended hardship for the child within her. And when the moon was darkest, Rachel told her that she was ready to come into the world.

Unlike her brothers and sister, Rachel never forgot how to hear. She seemed to communicate through this unique loving bond with her mother more and more each day. For the first time, Sarah Wilkes feared for her child and for herself. Surely, they would both be labeled as witches! She loved Rachel with her whole heart. Deep inside her, she knew where there was such love there could be no evil, only goodness. But she also supposed no one else had the hearing, nor would they be open about it if they had, for fear of being put to death for witchcraft.

She had no choice but to stubbornly refuse to listen to Rachel. Still, the poor child persisted in calling to her, even long after she could speak aloud. She also called to her father and siblings, but they never heard her. Discouraged, she could only draw closer to her mother. Sarah took her aside many times—but not so often that her husband would notice—and scolded her sharply in an effort to stop her frightening behavior.

People do not understand that we can hear each other inside, she explained earnestly, "and it will make them afraid. They will think it is evil and that we are witches, so you must never tell anyone…"

I love you, Mommy! Sarah heard her daughter exclaim. Sighing, she looked down on her child’s bright auburn hair as Rachel’s strong young arms reached around her thighs in a happy hug.

Frustrated, Sarah sat down heavily in the oak chair next to the table which she had just set for the evening meal and pulled Rachel into her lap. The child squirmed a little, but only in her delight as she gazed into her mother’s sad green eyes. Sarah held her tenderly, even as she reprimanded her.

"Rachel! You must stop! Speak to me aloud and tell no one—not even your father—about this hearing! You must forget it, else people will call you evil and burn you as a witch!"

Rachel shuddered at the terrifying thought and began to cry.

But—F-Father knows I am not a witch! she stuttered as she sobbed. W-why would he want to b-burn me in the fire?

You must forget, Sarah continued to urge her, now more gently. You must always speak out loud, and I will only speak aloud to you. And that’s because I love you so very, very much.

Sarah held the disconsolate girl in her lap and cried with her. She kissed her wet cheek and tenderly stroked her red-brown hair. Rachel had her mother’s auburn hair and green eyes, shaped like almonds. The willful girl did not seem to have inherited any of her father’s somber appearance, although her passion often flashed across her face in a way that certainly reflected her father.

Sarah vowed always to keep her word. After that afternoon she refused to acknowledge her daughter calling within her, even when she heard her all too plainly. For Rachel persisted stubbornly in the love bond between them as she grew older, although she knew her mother would never change her mind. She wept and pleaded, but to no avail, because Sarah was determined to protect the child she secretly loved most of all. But when Rachel was seven years old, Sarah suspended her vow one last time. The most important circumstances convinced her that God meant for both of them to use His hearing gift.

On a brisk fall morning, Sarah learned that young Mary Thomas had been tried and convicted of witchcraft. Goody Townshend claimed Mary had put a spell upon her infant of three months who had suddenly stopped breathing. She accused the young woman of desiring her husband, Robert, so much so that she used Evil to cause the death of their healthy, innocent child. How she did so was not known to Sarah, who was deeply sorrowed by the accusations and had refused to attend the trial. She knew Mary, the beautiful daughter of her Aunt Emma, to be a good woman. When Nathaniel Wilkes had first accepted the post as minister and they made the long move to Simontown, Sarah’s aunt and uncle were the only relations they had. Ironically, the Reverend Nathaniel now stood at the head of the church accusing her innocent young cousin. Mary was Emma and Luke Thomas’s only child, born when Aunt Emma was considered well beyond her childbearing years. Doted on and lavished with love, she grew into a loving, giving woman. Luke and Emma were shocked in their disbelief at the terrible accusations. Devastated, they never doubted Mary’s innocence, and they were ready to leave town immediately after their poor daughter’s death. Perhaps she did love Robert Townshend, but she did not work evil upon his child!

Sarah knew she could hear such evil within, and she had heard nothing. She thought it much more likely that the menfolk of the town were unnerved by the loveliness of the young woman, and by their hidden desires for her. They would be quick to condemn her, to cover their uneasiness.

On the morning Mary was condemned to be burned, Sarah woke her youngest daughter early and bade her to wash and dress quickly. She allowed her no time to eat breakfast. Rachel promptly did as she was told. She sensed great sadness in her mother. Sarah took Rachel’s little hand firmly and led her to the town’s center, leaving the older children at home with their father. She knew he would insist that they all be in attendance when they burned poor Mary. All should know how to resist and punish Evil. Even though they be mistaken! she thought contemptuously.

Rachel did not complain as Sarah dragged her along agitatedly. As soon as they left the house, her mother spoke to her, as she had many years ago, and the little girl was overjoyed. But her happiness was short-lived, for she knew her mother was very unhappy.

They will burn a woman today, Sarah told her with silent tears. They say she is a witch.

When Rachel felt her mother’s anguish, she was no longer surprised that she now used their forbidden love bond to speak to her. Inside, she opened herself wide.

Does Father say she is a witch?

Yes, he does. But he is mistaken. She is not a witch. I know Mary is not a witch!

She cannot be a witch! She is kind to me and to her family. But Father is the minister and God tells him what is right…

He is mistaken, Sarah repeated with conviction, "and God did not tell him—not this time. Mary is not a witch and she is not evil."

Rachel was confused and upset. But Father says there are witches and they obey Satan and they are evil.

Sarah answered her child straight through her heart, candid and brave,There are no witches! she snapped. She did not mean to be unkind, but her mission was urgent. At least, there are no witches like poor Mary! If she were a witch she would have the power to stop these misguided people from this cruel torture! She became even more emphatic, "This burning—this murder—is a sin! Rachel, we are Christians. Our Lord Jesus teaches us to help those who are in pain. You and I cannot stop them from burning Mary, but we can take away some of her pain. Once before you were born, I helped a woman this way."

Mommy, how did you do that? How can we do that now?

They had reached the center of the New England town. Horrified, Rachel saw that wood had already been gathered and mounded for the fire. Sarah halted a little distance away and took both of her daughter’s sweating palms in hers as she looked directly into her wide green eyes.

We must watch them burn her, and when she hurts—

No, no, I can’t! I can’t! I can’t watch Mary be burned!

Rachel, my Love, you must! Sarah insisted, miserable. I know I ask much of you and it is horrible, too horrible! But we—both of us—must help her. We are the only ones who can. I think God blessed us with the Hearing so we can do good in the world.

Rachel fidgeted, stepping from one foot to the other several times. She was dizzy, and she thought she would be sick. More than anything else, she wanted to run far away from this horror and the mean people who would burn Mary. But at the same time, she also believed the hearing was the most wonderful of all God’s gifts to her, and this was the only time her mother would allow her to use it. And she so much wanted to help Mary! Her mother was waiting patiently for her, so she finally heaved a big sigh and asked, How do we help Mary?

When the fire burns her and she hurts, you will hear her—you will feel what she feels. Try not to be afraid, my Love, for then you must reach out to her as best you can. Take away some of the burning and the pain. I know it will hurt, but I will be taking the pain away, too, and I have done this before, a long time ago, before you were born. I will be right next to you and I will always be holding your hand. I will not let go! And we will do what we can to help her.

How much hurt do I take away from her?

Only what you can, my child. That is all you can do.

I will do it, Mommy. I promise!

And Rachel, Sarah continued, as her heart seemed to stick in her throat, it is very important that you tell no one of this, and you must not even speak to me of this again, either.

Then she spoke aloud: "You must always speak out loud and forget about speaking inside. No one else has the hearing within them, and they would be afraid of us if they knew we have it, and they will accuse you and me of being witches if they know any of this that we are doing! They will burn us, you and me! Do you understand?"

Yes, Mommy, Rachel nodded. She understood very well. She was so frightened that she had peed a little in her drawers.

More of the townspeople were arriving at the town center. Presently, the Reverend Nathaniel Wilkes strode up briskly in the direction of his agonized wife and daughter, followed by Rebecca, Matthew, and Daniel. He grumbled at Sarah for leaving without them. Sarah apologized, feigning an excuse that she was too distraught to be thinking calmly of others—not quite a falsehood. Rebecca and her brothers did not want to witness this burning, either. Their insides churned in fear and horror. But they were good, obedient children and would never protest their father’s directives.

Rachel was to lose all recollection of the events which preceded Mary’s terror and anguish in the fire. Her eyes and ears remained open, but she neither saw or heard what happened around her. She never let go of her mother’s right hand. Her glassy eyes finally settled on Mary Thomas as the men bound her firmly to the stake surrounded by wood fuel for the fire. Mary’s drawn countenance was pale as ashes and tears streamed from her red-rimmed blue eyes, yet she made not a sound as she wept until she parted her white lips to pray, Heavenly Father…

Somewhere in her guts, Rachel felt Mary open up to the Lord, and she knew to reach for her at that moment. Had her sweating palm not been tightly clasped in Sarah’s, the little girl would have fallen to the dust under the weight of the agony that fell upon her. She wept out loud as though she had been struck, although she was not aware of her own tears. Mary! she called to her, We are here with you! Let us take away some of your hurt!

Although Sarah also reached out to her, Mary scarcely heard her. It was Rachel whom she clearly heard, for the frightened girl was much stronger in the speaking within. This is what Sarah had suspected; this is why she trusted her daughter to share the burden. The convicted woman stopped her prayer only for a moment to rest her eyes on Rachel. Then she opened her heart to the two who offered their help and continued her prayer.

The acrid smell of burning flesh and Mary’s screams of agony tore open Rachel’s sensitive heart. The reds, oranges and yellows of the fire blinded her as they seared her brave face. As if the flames also burned through her, she fainted away from the pain at the same time Mary did. She collapsed into her mother’s arms. Blinking through her tears, Sarah carried her child home, not caring that her husband sent his look of disapproval behind her. She was content to let him believe that she spoiled the child in her weakness. Sarah was satisfied that their Christian duty was done now and Rachel deserved rest.

* * *

Rachel awoke suddenly in her bed in the late afternoon, when the evening shadows began to fall. Her belly cramped, for she had not eaten all day. She sat up quickly, free from the horrors of the day because all she thought of was how hungry she was. But then the fire rushed back and burned inside her. Ironically, it was the hunger in her belly that saved her for a while. She pushed the unbearable pain from her mind and ran to get food. Her mother allowed her to gobble several slices of fresh baked spelt bread with butter and blackberry jam before she encouraged her to eat some savory lamb stew. As Sarah expected, Rachel refused the stew. Her daughter had never liked meat. She thought fleetingly that Nathaniel would again be angry with Rachel at dinner when she refused the meat. He was often angry with his youngest child. Instead of the stew, the poor girl accepted a handful of cracked walnuts and raw string beans and went outdoors to finish her food in the twilight before she helped with the chores.

As predicted, Nathaniel Wilkes was angry with Rachel during the evening meal. The rest of the family had no choice but to sit mutely