Free HEX by Thomas Olde Heuvelt Page B

Rock Forest, so that’s where the Dutch established New Beeck. They got along with the Indians all right. Traded with ’em. It was the English that gave ’em the jitters. New England was breathing down their neck and eager to add New Netherland to their territory. Well, that’s exactly what happened the next year: The English annexed the Dutch settlements without spilling a single drop of blood. They were the ones who finally drove the Munsee away … but many argue that the Munsee left the area of their own free will and went north. Because by then, Black Spring had already been cursed.”
    â€œExcuse me, but what exactly does that mean?” Burt Delarosa asked.
    â€œBewitched,” Robert Grim said, with his customary lack of subtlety. “Gone sour. Doomed.”
    â€œAt least, that’s what they believed back then,” Bammy presumed.
    â€œYeah, that’s one way of putting it,” Grim sneered, but he slumped back in his chair at Pete VanderMeer’s venomous stare. The Delarosas looked at each other and frowned. Under different circumstances, it might have been almost comical to see how perfectly synchronously they acted.
    â€œNow, you have to understand that superstition was embedded deep in the human psyche,” Pete continued. “We’re talking about folks who had to manage in a completely strange world, at a time when there was absolutely no security. In Europe, they had had their share of plague epidemics, failed harvests, famine, and outlaws, and the New World was full of unknown wild beasts, savages, and demons. No one knew what kind of supernatural forces haunted the wilderness to the west of the settlements. A pretty unpleasant situation. Without science, people had to rely on old wives’ tales and omens. They feared Almighty God and were scared to death of the Devil. This left an unmistakable mark on the surrounding forests—just think about the name of the hill behind our house.”
    â€œMount Misery?” Burt asked. “We went for a hike up there just this week. Beautiful place. We could see the Hudson from the top.”
    â€œIt’s a nice walk. Completely harmless these days, as long as you stay on the trail. But those omens … You have to see them as a primitive form of meteorology, except it’s not the weather they’re predicting; it’s impending disaster. You know the Salem witch trials, of course, which happened some twenty or thirty years later in the Massachusetts Bay Colony. They were preceded by a failed harvest, a smallpox epidemic, and the constant threat of attack by native tribes. The connection wasn’t made until afterward, but that doesn’t matter. From then on, fear played an enormous role in the flow of rumors that preceded tragedies. People saw the signs everywhere. Stillbirths, strange natural phenomena, rapid putrefaction of the flesh, big birds…” Pete grinned. “The Dutch were somewhat more down-to-earth than the Puritans, but in 1653 there was this large bird that landed on the steeple cross of the harbor church in New Amsterdam every day at sunset for three weeks, causing a huge uproar. They said it was bigger than a goose and gray in color, and it preyed on dead bodies. Today, of course, you’d figure it was a vulture—they used to appear as vagrants in these parts every now and again. But how could the colonists know? So, soon enough, this mob gathers and makes all kinds of predictions based on the bird’s appearance. The city council has the poor thing shot, but it was too late: The next year, the population was devastated by smallpox. So they blamed it on the bird.”
    Jocelyn remembered something. “Steve, tell them the story about that doctor and the children. I don’t know if Pete’s familiar with it?”
    â€œNo, I’m not.”
    â€œA colleague of mine at New York Med once told me this,” Steve said. “Prior to