The Witching Flower
by: Jolene

 

Mike and Laura loved each other with all their hearts. Mike would have done anything for her. His sacrifice proved his love and more. The result they lived with in their quiet way for the rest of their lives with sorrow and happiness.

"Laura I’ll love you until of time. I would do anything for you."

Laura tearfully replied, "Michael I love you too. Do something for me then. There’s an old house in the ancient hills of North Carolina in the Smoky Mountains. I have a superstition in my family. On my wedding day, my bouquet is to be a bed of wild flowers from Pilot Mountain. It blesses our home of poor spirits and frees them."

They lived in suburbs of South Georgia. They packed some clothes and moved to Mount Airy, North Carolina.

The time was in the spring of the early 1900’s. Michael Farrington was a gaunt, brawny gentleman of some distinction. Laura St. John was a petite but attractive brunette of no less manners who learned the ways of her mother and grandmother long ago in those forbidden hills where few dared to tread.

Some called it mountain medicine others called it a form of "hex magic" she practiced. Practiced since the early days when Appalachia was purged from the Natives and tamed by Scottish ancestors who determined to make their way in this vast but dangerous wilderness.

Mike began his journey after some leisure when he and Laura arrived at Mrs. Crup’s boarding home in Mount Airy. Their accommodations were small but affordable to their needs. The first two days the couple walked among the gardens of the town. Sharing their affections for all to see. No less suspected by the local gentry. The women admired their romance. Men suspiciously examined the couple’s intentions but left them to their privacy.

Than on the 3^rd day, Mike began his journey of sacrifice to the foot of the rock casing some fifty miles away.

At daybreak, the climb was easy enough. What he found in the old cabin put fear into his mortal heart.

"Who dares to enter this home?" Shouted a spirit woman dressed in milkweed garments.

"My fiancé has given me permission. I come on a mission of love for a bouquet of the Witching Flower." He said.

"So you are the one, that has sought Laura’s heart. Your intentions are true. No man has ever made it back from the hills without compensation for his actions. Be warned the witching flower’s haze and voice. Your mind will become as smoky as the mountains. The night is cold this eve. Rest and continue your journey in the morning."

"Your hospitality is gracious but I wish to continue on spirit woman. I have candles to light my path."

"Then go with caution and remember the flower’s gaze. May your faith guide you," the spirit said.

Mike continued to the foot of the mountain. The rock summit on Mount Pilot resembled a carousel. He gradually found the flowers and gathered them the way Laura wanted them.

Night fell around him as he wrapped the flowers in brown paper and began his descent. He quickly made his way down the side, whistling a happy song. He felt a strange breeze just short of his carriage. He found food and lodging at a small cottage just ten miles away earlier in the day before his climb.

Still there was music within the paper, it cried with the voice of a child. It was a girl child lonely, joyless searching for a better life.

Mike drawn to the strangeness first tried to shake it from his mind. The stars gazed about him. The trail was sure enough. He was sure he could make it and be with his Laura by tomorrow eve.

He unwrapped the flowers briefly and a strange vapor took him in his fatigued state. He lost his balance and fell downward into the smoke filled mountains until he reached the bottom of the trail in a heap. His body contracting, shrinking, panic took him, and the valley echoed his screams. The last he saw was a woman in milkweed reach to him in pity.

"You almost made it my sweet Michelle." Said the spirit than vanished in the night.

It was some time since the fall. Michelle and Laura returned to Mount Airy a different couple as mother and daughter.

Laura’s tone showed sweetness. "Wake up sweetie. We’re home to stay." A little girl with long blonde curls about ten was helped from the carriage.

Laura dear, "You made it back. It’s been a few months." Said Mrs. Crups than hugged her.

"Mrs. Crups. Good to see you. This is Michelle, my daughter." Laura smiled hugging the old woman in return.

"I love you mommy." Michelle said close to her mother sleepy from the trip.

"I love you too sweetie. And I always will." Laura held her tightly with a tearful smile.

Long ago in the hills, the flowers bloomed with a strange air. They brought happiness to a couple as well as sadness.

To the man who knew it’s power, he was saved and wife gave him children. They were made pleasant a dozen times over for all their lives with riches to spare. For men who ignored the superstition, they were changed to learn their mother’s skills and to understand the flower’s witching ways. It has always been thus. So ends this witching tale.

 

 

 

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© 2001 by Jolene. All Rights Reserved. These documents (including, without limitation, all articles, text, images, logos, compilation design) may printed for personal use only. No portion of these documents may be stored electronically, distributed electronically, or otherwise made available without express written consent of the copyright holder.