Sixteen
After her husband nearly drowned when the trawler he was working on capsized, Esther Mullen urged him to give up the sea and seek his livelihood on land. George Mullen, realizing he must put his family's interests ahead of his own, agreed. Although he loved the sea, he loved his wife and five children more. Should he die, they would be dependent on the charity of relatives.
Once the decision was made, the Mullens sold their house in Gloucester, packed up their belongings and headed west. They settled in Serenity, a small village nestled in a quiet valley at the foot of the Berkshires. George and his wife thought the peaceful New England community was the perfect place to raise their children. Thanks to Esther's Yankee thrift, the couple was able to purchase an orchard on the outskirts of town—fifty acres of apple trees and fertile farmland, as well as a two-story farmhouse big enough for seven people.
"I guess we were lucky to find this place," George said, noting the size of the house.
"It's not a question of luck," his wife corrected him. "It's God's will. From the day we were wed, I prayed we would find a safe haven, far from the dangers of the sea. This house, this town, is the answer to my prayers."
George, who did not have his wife's unquestioning faith, doubted there was a divine hand at work. And while he was glad Esther was happy, he was having second thoughts about the move. He had been a fisherman all his life, as his father and grandfather were before him. The sea was in his blood, and he was not sure he could make a successful transition to dry land. As he looked out over the acres of apple trees, he offered his own prayer and hoped there was someone or something there to hear it.
* * *
With the help of his wife and three oldest children, George was able to gather a modest harvest that autumn. The apples that were too bruised to sell were pressed into cider. Their profit went toward the purchase of a cow, a few chickens, a used plow and an assortment of vegetable seeds.
"This way, even if we don't make much money on next year's apple crop, at least we'll have enough food to feed ourselves," Esther declared as she began marking off a section of land to be used as a vegetable garden.
George was impressed by his wife's efforts.
"You're a born farmer," he teased.
With their first harvest in, the Mullens would have time to go into town to shop for supplies for the winter months ahead and to socialize with the people of Serenity. One crisp autumn morning, Esther and George rose early, ate a hearty breakfast and set out for town, leaving Amanda, their oldest child, to care for her siblings.
As the wagon labored along the bumpy dirt roads, the couple passed a number of pedestrians and other horse-drawn vehicles going to or coming from town. Not far from their destination, they passed a fellow farmer who was leading a mule with several heavy burlap sacks secured to the beast's back.
"That poor man," Esther exclaimed as they drove past.
"What?" asked George, who had been silently reminiscing about his days at sea.
"That man with the mule. He has only one arm."
"Old Man Wharton had only one arm," George reminded her. "The other was bit off by a shark. I don't suppose there are any sharks in these parts, though."
Mention of Old Man Wharton was a clear sign to Esther that her husband's thoughts were back in Gloucester.
"You miss being a fisherman, don't you?"
"Only once in a while," he lied. "Most of the time I'm glad to be here, working the land. Why, in no time at all, I'm bound to lose my sea legs."
"Here we are," Esther announced as they approached the center of the village.
The people of Serenity were going about their business in much the same way as the people of other farming communities did, yet there was something odd about the look on their faces. Without exception, their expressions were serene and benevolent. No one seemed angry, annoyed, harried or even burdened by their labors.
Everyone seems so complacent, Esther thought, remembering how stressful life had been when her husband was away at sea.
George stopped the wagon and helped his wife down. From ground level, Esther got a closer look at the faces of the villagers. A shiver of revulsion ran through her when she saw a man with one good eye and a gaping, empty eye socket. A few yards behind him was a young woman with a scar that began at her chin and traveled across her cheek to her temple. She imagined the girl would have been quite pretty if not for the mark on her face.
Never had Esther seen so many disfigured people in one place. Nearly half the pedestrians in the village that day were scarred, and many were missing fingers, hands, arms or legs. Even Fred Cahill, the man who ran the general store, bore the scars of a past injury on the back of his head.
"Never seen you folks here before," Fred noted when the Mullens entered the store.
"We just moved here this summer," George told him.
"Ah, yes. You bought the old Corwin orchard. I've been wondering when you were gonna show up."
"We wanted to pick the apples before they went bad," Esther explained.
"That's quite a big job for two people."
"Our kids helped us," George said.
There was a sudden silence as people in the store stopped to listen to the conversation.
"Children?" the storekeeper echoed. "How many have you got?"
A frail, timid-looking woman cut into the conversation, asking, "How old are they?"
"We have five," George replied. "The youngest is two, and the oldest is fifteen."
"Then she'll be sixteen soon," the woman added anxiously.
"Not for almost a year. She just turned fifteen. Why?" Esther asked.
"No reason," Fred jumped in. "Hazel's just curious 'cause she's got a boy about that age. Ain't that right, Hazel?"
The timid-looking woman nodded her head, but there was a look of pain in her eyes.
When Esther turned around, she noticed that everyone in the general store was staring at her and her husband, and it gave her a most unpleasant feeling. She nudged George, sending him a silent message. Feeling as ill at ease as his wife did, George quickly paid for their goods and hurried out of the store. Things were not much better on the outside, however, since the people in the street were also curious about the newcomers.
On the ride back to the orchard, Esther kept up a running conversation about canning, the pumpkin harvest, the price of shoes and her progress in teaching their youngest child to read. She did not mention the strange reception they received from the villagers or the fact that so many people from Serenity were scarred and maimed, even though both subjects were foremost in her mind.
* * *
Word soon spread through Serenity that there was a fifteen-year-old girl living at the old Corwin orchard. It was not long before not one but three young men called on Amanda Mullen (one of whom was the son of Hazel Alder, the timid-looking woman her parents had encountered at the general store). The boys, all roughly the same age as Amanda, were polite, well-mannered lads, but unlike the adults in town, they did not behave with the same passivity and lack of emotion. On the contrary, they were quite animated and laughed frequently. They were also whole of limb and free from disfigurement, much to Esther's relief.
Throughout the remainder of the fall and the start of winter, the three young men courted Amanda. Although she never spoke of her feelings, the girl showed a definite preference for Hazel Alder's boy, Jacob.
One Sunday at the end of February, Jacob invited Amanda to his house to meet his mother. When the young woman returned home, she told Esther about her visit.
"It was rather sad. Mrs. Alder is a widow. She lost her husband before Jacob was born and had to raise her son by herself."
"That is a hard cross to bear," Esther agreed. "Back in Gloucester, I knew many women who lost their husbands to the sea and were left to raise children alone. That's why your father agreed to give up fishing and take up farming."
"It's worse in Mrs. Alder's case, though. She has only one good arm. The other one is useless."
"That poor woman," Esther said absent-mindedly, wondering how many people from Serenity did not suffer from some form of disability.
* * *
Spring brought with it warmer weather and the eventual thaw of the frozen land. Once the snow was gone, work began in the fields. Seedlings soon sprang from the ground, and the bare trees began to sprout leaves.
With the arrival of summer, two of Amanda's suitors lost interest. Jacob, on the other hand, took every opportunity to stop by the Mullens' farmhouse. Esther suspected that before the year was out, there would be talk of marriage between the two young people.
"Amanda is only fifteen," George protested. "She's too young to get married."
"Have you forgotten that we were only seventeen when we got married? Fifteen is the age most girls seriously begin looking for a husband."
After having given up both his home and the sea, George did not want to lose his daughter as well.
"I still say she's too young to marry."
When the apples started to ripen on the trees, Amanda celebrated her sixteenth birthday. Although George still regarded his daughter as a child, Esther considered her a woman, a beautiful one at that. She knew it was only a matter of time before the girl became Jacob's bride. The mother approved of such a union.
Jacob is a nice boy, she thought with a smile, and it's obvious Amanda adores him.
When her daughter ran in from a walk with him one October evening with her face aglow and her eyes sparkling with happiness, Esther held her breath in anticipation of an announcement of their engagement.
"Mom, Dad," Amanda called excitedly. "I have something wonderful to tell you."
George closed his eyes, dreading the news.
"I'm going away to the mountains."
Taken aback by her statement, both parents looked at their daughter questioningly.
"What do you mean you're going away?" Esther asked.
"It's a kind of retreat. All the sixteen-year-olds in Serenity go. It's a long-established custom."
"A religious retreat?" George inquired.
"I'm not sure. Jacob was kind of vague about the details. Mr. Cahill from the general store says the experience prepares young people for life as adults. He went when he was sixteen. So did Mrs. Alder and everyone else who was born and raised in Serenity."
"How long will you be gone?" Esther asked.
"A week, maybe two."
Her father wanted to know if there would be any chaperones.
"Mr. Cahill will be there. He's going to take Jacob and me and a few others up there since the place isn't easy to find."
"I don't want you to go."
George's declaration was met with a look of disappointment on his daughter's pretty face and an angry glare on his wife's.
"And why not?" Esther argued. "I'm sure the experience will do her good. And what harm could come to her if there are adults watching over the youngsters?"
With his wife and daughter siding against him, George relented. Against his better judgment, he gave his sixteen-year-old child permission to attend Serenity's retreat.
* * *
Three days after Amanda's departure, the Mullens made a journey to town to purchase their winter supplies. Along the way, they again passed an unusually high number of people with scarred faces, missing limbs and other signs of having sustained a serious injury at some point in their lives.
"These must be the most accident-prone people in the world," Esther exclaimed.
Her husband concurred.
"Farming is obviously a more dangerous way of life than we thought."
"I hardly think this many people got hurt plowing fields, milking cows or picking apples."
"Maybe there was some natural disaster that we don't know about, an avalanche or an earthquake."
Their speculation came to an end when they arrived at the general store. Fred Cahill was away at the retreat, and a young man, about twenty years of age, stood behind the counter.
"Are you Fred's son?" Esther asked, noticing a strong resemblance, despite the eye patch the young man wore.
"No, I'm his nephew. My uncle lost his son seven years ago."
"I'm sorry to hear that."
As her husband was examining an assortment of tools, Esther decided to question the storekeeper's nephew further.
"It's a good thing Fred has you to watch over the store while he's gone. I suppose you went on this retreat when you were young."
"Yes, ma'am. I didn't have a choice. None of us do. When you turn sixteen, you have to go up into the mountains."
"My daughter and her young man were quite eager to go."
"So was I—then. Going up in the mountains changes you, though."
"What do people do when they go on this retreat?"
The young man's eyes met hers, and for a moment the look of complacency vanished from his face.
"It's a subject no one wants to talk about."
Having decided to buy a new hoe to replace the rusted one with the broken handle, George joined his wife at the counter.
"Where's your thread and sewing needles you wanted to buy?" he asked.
"I've been so busy chatting with Mr. Cahill's nephew that I clean forgot all about them."
As Esther made her way to the dry goods aisle, however, she spotted Hazel Alder coming out of the church across the street from the general store.
"I'll just be a minute," she told her husband. "I want to have a word with Jacob's mother."
"Mrs. Alder," Esther called out, as she crossed the street and headed toward the church.
The other woman froze at the sound of her name. Esther was going to invite Hazel and her son to spend Thanksgiving at the farmhouse, but she refrained from doing so when she saw the look on the widow's face.
"Are you all right?" Esther asked with concern.
"Jacob."
The mother uttered her son's name, speaking more to herself than to Esther.
"He's all I have left. I can't lose him, too."
"Why would you lose him?"
Hazel faced Esther, and there was a look of terror in the widow's eyes.
"I must pray to God to protect him."
"Why does he need protection?" Esther demanded to know, but Hazel ran back into the church without a word of explanation.
George, who had been watching the two women through the general store's front window, expected his wife to return when Hazel Alder went into the church. He was surprised to see Esther walk toward the cemetery adjacent to the churchyard.
Where's she going now? he wondered.
He left his hoe on the counter and ran outside to speak to his wife.
"What are you doing here?" he asked when he caught up with her.
"If some natural disaster caused so many injuries to the people of Serenity, then surely a significant number of people must have been killed. We might find evidence of that in the cemetery."
"Why don't you just ask someone?"
"Because I don't think they'd tell me the truth. People in Serenity seem to be a tight-lipped bunch."
If George wanted to get home before sunset, he knew he would have to help his wife search for the answer. While Esther was reading the dates on the headstones in the western side of the cemetery, he headed toward the graves on the eastern side. It was not until he had read the inscriptions on more than two dozen grave markers that he saw the pattern.
"Oh, God," he moaned.
"Have you found something?" Esther asked.
A moment later she was at her husband's side.
"Look at the dates," he instructed.
"Abigail Wyckoff born March 11, 1831, died November 3, 1847. John Bishop born August 7, 1850, died November 2, 1866. Robert Edwards born January 31, 1875, died November 6, 1891. There's nothing unusual here. These people died years apart."
George's face was grim as he explained.
"They all died during the first week of November when they were sixteen years old. And they're not the only ones. I've seen at least ten others in this general area alone."
"The retreat."
Esther suddenly understood Hazel Alder's strange behavior.
"She knows her son is in danger. And Amanda, our little girl ...."
* * *
George drove the wagon as far as he could along the mountain path. He would have to go the rest of the way on foot.
"I'm going with you," Esther said.
"No. You stay here and wait in the wagon with Hazel. I don't want you to get hurt."
He quickly kissed his wife goodbye and began climbing up the mountain in search of his daughter. Meanwhile, Esther continued to ply Jacob's mother with questions about the mysterious retreat. Hazel must have been in shock, for she seemed not to hear.
Two hours later there was still no sign of either George or Amanda.
"I can't stand this waiting and not knowing," Esther cried. "I'm going up there to look for them."
Hazel reached out and grabbed the other woman's arm.
"No. You don't want to go up there."
These were the first words Hazel spoke since she left the church.
"You've got to tell me what this is all about. Our children are up there, and so is my husband. I have a right to know."
"I don't know when it all started, but it was sometime before the Americans fought for their independence. A group of colonists splintered off from the Massachusetts Bay Colony and settled here at the base of the mountains. They were farmers, and, like most people who work the land, they had long-held superstitions. Here in the wilds of an untamed country, they soon abandoned their Christian teachings and adopted their ancestors' pagan beliefs."
"And the retreat?" Esther asked.
"It was where they held the Samhain feast, which was traditionally celebrated from October 31 to November 2. Even after the people of Serenity stopped practicing the old religion, they held an annual harvest celebration up in the mountains. Eventually, though, the retreat evolved into something far worse."
"What happens up there?"
"Haven't you ever noticed the way people behave in Serenity?" Hazel asked.
"Yes. They're all quiet, calm, unemotional."
"We're not that way by accident."
"Are you saying the retreat is responsible? How?"
"On the last day of October following their sixteenth birthday, the children are taken up to an isolated area, cut off from all civilization. They're left there with no food, no water, no clothes, no protection. They have to fight if they want to survive. It's surprising how little time it takes the average sixteen-year-old to revert to the level of an animal."
"In God's name why?"
"Because when they're eventually brought back down the mountain, those who survive become peaceful, law-abiding citizens, grateful for the roofs over their heads and the food on their tables. There has never been a theft, a rape, a fight or a murder in Serenity's history ... except for what happens during the retreat."
Once she learned the truth, Esther jumped out of the wagon and began running as fast as she could up the wooded path. Hazel scrambled behind her.
"Please don't go up there. I lost Jacob's father up there. He was killed while trying to protect me. You have no idea what it's like up there."
"I know my husband and daughter are in danger, and I have to find them."
* * *
Rather than thwart their search, the darkness aided them. Blindly walking, lost, through the heavily wooded area for hours, the two women finally spotted the glow of a fire from the distance and found the secluded location where the retreat was held.
A sickening stench greeted them when they arrived. Hazel swooned and Esther vomited when they spied one of Amanda's former suitors being roasted on a spit.
"Mother, Mrs. Mullen," Jacob whispered. "Get down before someone sees you."
The two women got to their knees and crawled into the thicket where Jacob and Amanda were hiding. Esther had to stifle a scream when she saw her husband, sitting on the ground, with his face covered in blood.
"I'm all right," he assured her. "I've cut my forehead. That's all."
"What about you?" Esther asked her daughter.
"So far, Jacob and I have been able to avoid the violent ones. We've been eating berries and nuts to survive."
The girl was wearing her father's torn jacket to cover her nakedness and to protect her from the cold, but Jacob was shivering in the loincloth he had fashioned from one of the legs of George's pants.
"We've got to get out of here," Esther declared. "You'll freeze to death if we don't get you into some warm clothes."
"We can't leave," Jacob argued. "Even if the savage ones don't see us, the guards will."
"Guards? What guards?"
"Mr. Cahill, for one. He and several other men from town patrol the area with guns. They'll shoot us if we try to get away."
"Is that true?" George asked Hazel.
The woman nodded.
"My brother was killed trying to escape."
George quickly devised a plan.
"I'll create a diversion and then the rest of you can slip down the mountain undetected."
Esther turned pale.
"You'll be killed. I won't allow it."
While the Mullens were arguing, Hazel took a locket from her neck and handed it to her son.
"Be safe, and always remember how much I love you."
"Mom ... don't ...."
But his mother vanished into the night.
"I'll go after her," George offered when he noticed Hazel had gone.
"No," Jacob managed to say, although his throat was constricted with emotion. "We've got to get Amanda and Mrs. Mullen down the mountain."
"I've never stood by and done nothing while a woman was in danger."
"You can't save my mother now, but you do have a chance of saving your wife and daughter."
George reluctantly agreed and led his family back down the mountain.
* * *
When the Mullens returned to their two-story farmhouse, they hastily collected their valuables, some clothing and a supply of food that would sustain them on their trip east. A week later, when George smelled the sea and heard the waves crashing upon the shore, he knew he was home.
"You realize I'll have to go back to fishing now that we've lost everything."
Esther put one arm around her husband and the other around her daughter.
"Not everything," she said. "Thankfully, we managed to keep what matters most to us."
Jacob and Amanda soon married. Like his father-in-law, Jacob became a fisherman and also like George Mullen, he fell in love with the sea. The young farmer from western Massachusetts found true happiness in Gloucester, but he often woke in the middle of the night, his face awash with perspiration and tears, after a nightmare in which his frail, timid-looking mother was ripped apart by a pack of savage sixteen-year-olds while men from the peaceful town of Serenity stood by and did nothing.
Here we see the savage beast stalking a wild turkey. (Don't worry, fellow animal lovers; Salem hasn't caught anything except a cold in over 300 years.)
