The Morning After

The screaming continued through the night, growing more plaintive as time wore on. Prudence went to the door once, but Samantha told her, "There's nothing we can do for them now."

The other children, unable to sleep with the wailing going on around them, sat in the corner farthest from the dining room. "What's going on?" Rebecca asked.

"I wish I knew," Samantha answered. During the night she added a scream of her own, her back tingling like someone had sprayed it with acid. Prudence knelt down beside her and then her eyes widened in disbelief. "What is it?"

"The cuts on your back. They're disappearing," Prudence said. "It's like magic. How is this possible?"

Samantha thought about it and then saw the stain left by the bowl of gruel she'd thrown against the wall. Of course, she'd tasted from the bowl. She remembered the scrapes on her arm and the clear liquid the reverend had used to make the cuts disappear. Last, she thought back to her dream and the clay jar she'd drank from. "It is magic," she said.

By morning Samantha could get out of bed without pain, the marks from the whipping erased by the gruel's secret ingredient. She went to the door and motioned for Prudence to follow. "Are you sure it's safe to go out there?" Prudence asked.

"Something odd is going on here. We have to find out." Samantha glared at the children in the corner. "You all stay here and wait for us to come back. Don't move a muscle."