Magnolia Blood

By Dave McGehee

An irony of their personal history is that the vivid imagination so rampant in the world into which Dorcas had been born and then shackled is the only available source of how she arrived in her new home and who she actually considered herself to be there. She had moved from the coven of Salem witchcraft and its lingering aftermath to the covert of Beaufort. It became her hiding place. Like a bird or a snake, she hoped to lurk there in a kind of invisibility, but in time she produced a child. That little girl grew to adulthood in and around Beaufort. Her connection to weak-minded but crafty Dorcas lived in the daughter’s youthful mind, and stories about what had happened to Dorcas in Salem circulated in the village as well. Perhaps some of the passengers on board the ship that brought Dorcas to Beaufort had recognized her. Word spread. Her daughter became the subject of local gossip by 1720, just as Sarah Good and Dorcas had been during the witching days in 1692-93.
And evil days such as those might come again. This time in Beaufort….

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Aug 22, 2019
• ISBN: 9781796053470

Book preview

Magnolia Blood

David A. McGehee

Copyright © 2019 by David A. McGehee.

Library of Congress Control Number:    2019912049

ISBN:                  Hardcover                        978-1-7960-5349-4

                            Softcover                           978-1-7960-5348-7

                            eBook                                978-1-7960-5347-0

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

Rev. date: 09/13/2019

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CONTENTS

Ponies and those Magic Birds

Pit at the Hammock House

Summer Brought Them

Next Day

Cemetery Morning

Sea Breeze

Trial in Salem

Apothecary

Salem Hanging Tree

Gracey

Period — 1960s

An Old Story

He Touched Their Hearts

Witch Executions in Beaufort, 1720

They Were There with the Magnolias

He Suckled the Ponies

Chicken Killing

Those Letters

Mogie and Pets Return to New England

A Spell

Big Man Returns to Ole Beaufort … Maxton

The Murder

Justice in Carteret County

Her Last Walk

Claude

They Came to the Silver Coast

She Walks

Hardy Pool Hall

Song of the Chanteys

Their Song

MAGNOLIA BLOOD

THE SETTING IS OLD BEAUFORT, NORTH CAROLINA THE TIME IS 1600 TO CURRENT TIMES. THE NOVEL IS OF THE PEOPLE AND PLACE

—NOT ONLY THE WITCHES

Do the pure white blossoms of the ancient magnolias continue to drip blood to the earth of the cemetery?

The author acknowledges the extensive and exceptional work that has been completed by Dr. Jim Clark of Raleigh, as noted below, and the editing of the manuscript by Patricia R. Hudnall of Beaufort. My appreciations have been presented to these experts of literature and history of the Old North State.

From Coven to Covert

By James Clark, Jr. PhD.

Although the so-called afflicted girls made famous by the Salem witchcraft delusion of 1692-93 have occupied center stage from those dark days until now, there is another girl whose day of sensation may be about to dawn generations after her death. Her name in the colonial record is Dorcas Good. Occasionally her name is given as Dorothy. That ambiguity of identity is the least of many gray places in her life and legacy.

At either four or five years old in March of 1692 when she was arrested and jailed in Salem Village as a witch, one who suckled a pet snake, she survived the hanging of her mother Sarah Good and eighteen other men and women who refused to confess to the charge of witchcraft and escape the gallows. Dorcas’s own survival was by no means assured for she might have succumbed to disease and exposure during the months of her incarceration, first in her native village and then in Boston, where this helpless child was shackled. She lingered where in chains until May of 1693.

For the next decade and a half Dorcas lived in the personal prison house of poor health, fear, and madness. Her father, hardly sane himself, was finally able in 1711 to petition the colonial court on behalf of himself and his twenty-four-year- old single daughter. He and she shared an award of thirty pounds sterling. In today’s dollars it would have amounted to over $6,100.

Perhaps it was this windfall that made the tormented young woman attractive to a seafaring guy who was sailing south from Salem during that same year.

His name is not known. His personal character was equally blank in the record. His destination seems to have been the newly forming village of Beaufort in the coastal region that would become North Carolina. At any rate this settlement is the place Dorcas, the witch-child of Salem, landed. If she had married the seafarer or one of his mates, no one can say for sure. One is also left to imagine the fate of her aging father. It is not clear that he even made the voyage.

An irony of their personal history is that the vivid imagination so rampant in the world into which Dorcas had been born and then shackled is the only available source of how she arrived in her new home and who she actually considered herself to be there. She had moved from the coven of Salem witchcraft and its lingering aftermath to the covert of Beaufort. It became her hiding place. Like a bird or a snake, she hoped to lurk there in a kind of invisibility, but in time she produced a child. That little girl grew to adulthood in and around Beaufort. Her connection to weak-minded but crafty Dorcas lived in the daughter’s youthful mind, and stories about what had happened to Dorcas in Salem circulated in the village as well. Perhaps some of the passengers on board the ship that brought Dorcas to Beaufort had recognized her. Word spread. Her daughter became the subject of local gossip by 1720, just as Sarah Good and Dorcas had been during the witching days in 1692-93.

And evil days such as those might come again. This time in Beaufort….

Ponies and those Magic Birds

Dad, you told us that we would be able to see the ponies once we got to the room and all.

Be a little patient. They might be feeding on the far side of the islands out there. He nodded towards the islands where the cedars bowed to the winds. The boy nodded and looked in the same direction. The man with a heavy chest smiled after he noticed that his son had turned his gaze towards the string of small islands pointing towards the east.

Keep in mind that the herd might be scattered a little after all the wind and rain came in before we left Winston-Salem. The storm probably hit the coast here before we arrived, and if that is the way it happened, the herd will probably gather again and graze some before night takes us back to the hotel.

Okay, Dad. Maybe we can go to the pool hall that we passed a couple of blocks from the waterfront.

That is not a bad idea. Come on and we will see if we can get a little something for supper before we head back to the inn.

Rack’em up again. The tall one hovered over the rack as if he knew how the balls would move when the breaking ball scattered the uniform arrowhead-positioned billiard balls.

He nodded at the little guy and the taller girl. They moved toward the billiard chairs with leather seats. The tall, straight-back chairs gave them a good field of sight for the table of green woolen. They both blinked and sat upright with the small collision as those balls moved over the woolen felt as if knowing where to settle.

Lihue was the older of the two boys. He stood taller than his stocky brother in a number of ways. Strangers were greeted as sir and ma’am. His fair hair was short and the smile was broad and the teeth were even and straight. Work with his father was a privilege. Chicken farming was the livelihood and that was the reason for the trip to the coast of North Carolina. A farm on the outskirts of the town would be sold, and if they were successful in obtaining the well-known farm, they would make the land of sea and sun their home. It was a fact that the egg business at the coast was superior compared with the land of tobacco where their current farm stood. The farm in Winston-Salem would be sold.

Mr. Moore brought out the usual discussion for his boys. Tomorrow we will ride out to the farm on the river, North River is where we will meet the old man who is not getting along very well. Will have someone to show us the lay of the land and the pens for his chickens.

The heavier boy spoke and nodded his head towards the bar. A small man gave them a thin smile and glanced at the pool game that was underway. Let’s get us a couple of hot dogs or whatever he has behind the bar.

Mr. Moore smiled. Okay, boys, tell the man what you would have and we will take a view of the water before turning towards the inn. Sound okay?

Garland, the stocky boy, captured Lihue’s eyes. Yep, Lihue, let’s do just what he said and maybe we can get a cold drink while we wait.

Mr. Moore smiled. Tell him what you two want.

Lihue, A Pepsi, sir.

Garland moved closer to gain the man’s attention. An Orange Crush will be okay for me. Got it?

Yes, will get it to you. You in a hurry? He cast his eyes back to the pool table.

Just a little thirsty, mister. We have been in the train a long time today. Came in from Winston-Salem.

The bottle was cold to the touch. Here we go. He handed the soft drinks over the bar.

Garland removed the bottle top with the opener that was built in the drink cooler box. He turned it to his lips and took a long drink of the orange liquid and smiled at Lihue. Cool and sweet.

The thin, tall man from behind the bar again. What might you folks want for supper? Or might you be interested in something more suitable for your evening meal?

"Well… due to our traveling, I think the boys need to have a little more than one of the hot dogs. We will head down the street for a café.

We want to see those ponies that come over to the mainland. Everyone told us to make sure we got a good look at them. They being handsome horse flesh.

The dad spoke with a tight-lipped communication to the stranger.

That is fifty cents.

Lihue smiled also as Mr. Moore gave him a half-dollar. He stepped to the bar and settled the purchase. They exited as the pool game continued. The man behind the bar waved with the back of his hand. You boys come on back soon.

Sure will, we like that pool shooting.

Lihue stepped ahead of the other two. Dad, after we eat at that café that we heard about, let’s come on back to this here cemetery.

We might do that. We’ll see.

Might be something to those stories that they told us about when we were waiting for the train.

Garland smiled. Yep, those boys at the terminal at Winston-Salem acted like they had heard and seen some screwy things when they came down for vacation.

Mr. Moore, After supper you can be on your own for a while.

Thanks, Pap. Hey, have you listened to how these people sound? A little hard to understand what they are talking about.

A little. Their ancestors were mostly from England. You will get used to their talk before long.

Don’t bother me too much. I want to be able to understand what the teachers are saying to me and my brother. He tapped Garland’s shoulder. They smiled as they usually did as they were deeply attached to each other.

The Lab was huge. Chocolate as fallen oak leaves, his head as of a buffalo, with feet of bear. His eyes gave the impression of grazing cattle, focused on only that which was necessary. Unlike the loyal cat’s eyes focused only on survival. Later that same night, the eyes of local men would be focused on evil and debauchery at the Sea Breeze movie theater. The boys had already heard of the interesting shows.

The man and Lab walked towards the inn as the nails of the Lab scraped along the cement, and the sea birds coasted with the wind. The family from the piedmont of North Carolina would lodge in the same inn. A black cat bounced as the Lab guided his feline friend. There by the sea.

Garland spoke with a bit of humor in his words. Did you see that cat jump from that tall grass and take up with that-air Lab?

Sure did, they must be friends.

Looks like that, but have never heard of a big cat like that following a big ‘un like that-air Lab.

Ha, ha… must have something to do with the water and all those birds a-flying.

Mr. Moore followed the birds until they melted in the distant evening. Don’t know too much about that ‘un either. He nodded at the cat and the slow-moving Lab. They’re just friends. The cat’s just trying to keep up with the big ‘un, I guess.

Garland, we let you have the bed that is close to the big door. How about that?

Yep, I will like that breeze coming from way out yonder. Talk with you two when we get ready for supper.

He braced the two feather pillows against the headboard. Soft caresses of lapping