The Crucible Epilogue

The Crucible Epilogue- Mary's Journey 

                Mary rolls on to her side and gradually opens her eyes.   She pulls the scratchy wool blankets off her, and sits up in bed.  It is dark now, but she walks to open her curtains, knowing the day will come soon.  Mary tiptoes around her room, slipping off her faded white nightgown.  She has grown taller, and more slender.  Like Abigail.  The thought of her sends a cold chill down Mary’s spine.  As much as she has tried to forget the trials, it is impossible.  She slips quietly through the hallway, past the rooms of Eliza, Michael, and Goody Moore, trying not to disturb them.  William Moore is already up, and has been for a while, laboring in the fields.  She scurries downstairs, throws on her cloak and bonnet, and closes the mahogany door as softly as possible behind her.  It is just about sunrise, and a brilliant coral color is beginning to overcome the dark sky.  She squints to see William Moore in the distance, already laboring in the fields of corn.  It is late September, well into harvesting season.   The trees are changing beautifully to golden browns, yellows, and reds.  Mary decides to take the long way and savor this unusually sweet fall morning.  She walks toward the decrepit barn to feed and tend to the horses and hens.  The dew on the tall grass kisses the skirt of her gray cloak.  Morning is Mary’s favorite time of day:  the only time when she can forget the past and be at peace with herself.

                After her chores in the barn are finished, Mary retreats back to the kitchen to prepare breakfast for the Moores.   William Moore should soon be in from his field work, eager to fill his empty stomach with some warm porridge.  Mary tiptoes into the friendly kitchen, now lit with the sun of the morning, and begins to set the table for the first meal of the day.  It is her duty to prepare all the meals, even though most of the time, Goody Moore assists her.  Goody Moore is known all around town for her superb cooking abilities, and she has been kind enough to lend some of her knowledge to Mary.  Mary had not done much cooking at the Proctors, so she came to the Moores relatively useless.   In the past few months, though, her skills have been improving.   Mary surveys the kitchen, and decides to check on the porridge that has been cooking slowly all night.  Walking up to the embers, she takes off the top of the pot, and stirs the porridge with a long wooden spoon.  The warmth and aroma of the porridge surrounds her like a comforting blanket.  She is so engaged in the sensation that the sound of footsteps above startles her.  Everyone is awake, and will soon be coming downstairs! She must pour the milk and cider, and set the table.   

                A pair of energetic feet bound down the stairs into the kitchen.  Mary looks over to see a head of stringy blond hair and pale blue eyes looking up at her.  “Good morning, Eliza,” says Mary.  “I’m almost finished preparing breakfast.”  Though the 10 year old is really named Elizabeth, Mary insists on calling her Eliza.  Goody Moore thinks the nickname is a sign of affection, which isn’t exactly true.  Mary has become fond of the children, but the nickname simply reflects her unwillingness to say “Elizabeth”.  That name brings back unwanted memories of Elizabeth Proctor.  Elizabeth Proctor, who taught her so much.  Elizabeth Proctor, who had been so kind to her.  Elizabeth Proctor, who was now windowless because of Mary!  Every day the guilt of the trials haunts her.  With each glance towards Eliza, she sees Elizabeth, then John, then everyone else who was hung because of witchcraft- who she helped convict.  She looks down at the sweet face of Elizabeth, then quickly glances away.  The pain is unbearable. Oh, what she would give to turn back time and re-live the past year! 

               As soon as breakfast is cleaned up, Mary runs outside, eager to escape the house.  She must brush the horses and collect eggs from the hens.  She does each chore with a renewed energy; so eager to please this new family who kindly took her in when she was not wanted in Salem.  As she is strolling past the corn fields, she again sees William Moore, and another figure next to him.  Mary’s heart jumps with excitement.  Is it Peter?!  Peter comes to assist William a few days a week during harvest season.  He has been her friend since childhood, and lately, she has felt something more than friendship.  Through the trials, she secluded herself from everyone- even him.  After the trials ended, he insisted she tell him the full story- start to finish- with every detail. He is also the one who got her this job with the Moores.  Because he had worked for them all his life, he knew they would be kind enough to take her in.  On numerous occasions she had broken down in front of him, and he had been nothing but supportive.   He is the only person who truly knows her.  Mary gazes witsfully at him, and hopes he will come down to visit her after he finishes in the fields! 

           She takes an extra long time in the barn, carefully counting and collecting the hens’ eggs.  Just as she is about to give up and head back to the house, she hears the barn door creak open.  She looks behind her to see a tall, handsome figure coming towards her.  She goes to greet him.  “Good evening, Peter.” 

“Good evening, Mary.  How are you?”

“I-I am fine.”

Peter hears the hesitation and stuttering in her voice.  He knows she struggles every day with the grief of the trials. 

“Mary, I have been thinking.  Since the execution of John, you haven’t been the same. I see you walk around every day as if you were carrying bricks upon your shoulders.  And, in a way, you have been carrying something very heavy: the burden of death.  But it’s not fair to place the blame entirely on yourself.  It anyone caused the death of John Proctor and all the others, it was Abigail.”

Mary starts to cry, a surge of pent up misery escaping her.   

Peter responds, saying, “You need to go to Elizabeth.  Beg for her forgiveness.  Mary, I know she would give it to you.  She is truly a Christian woman.  I’ve known her all my life, and so have you.  She does whatever is right, even if it isn’t easy.  And it is right to forgive you.” 

Mary’s sobs become heavier.  “I can’t! I can’t go to her! She hates me! I murdered her husband!” 

Peter takes her by the shoulders.  “Mary, I know this is hard.  It was a horrible thing all you girls did.  But you have to realize, it wasn’t completely your fault.  Abigail Williams was an evil, manipulative person.  Everyone was terrified of her- she was threatening to kill you if you didn’t do what she demanded!” 

Mary’s nods her head in agreement, the tears still streaming down her face.   

Peter looks straight into her eyes. “Salem is a mere half an hour away. I know the Meier family; I used to work for Henry Meier.  He is a good man, and since he married Elizabeth, she and her boys seem content.  He takes very good care of her.  She has put her past behind her, and you should, as well.  I'll take you to Salem.” 

Mary wipes her reddened eyes and looks up at him in awe.  “Why would you do that, Peter?”

Peter’s rough, callused hand reaches for hers.  “I want to see you happy, Mary, and I know that will never happen if you don’t put the past behind you.  Mary, I…I love you.” 

She gazes into the intensity of Peter’s chocolate brown eyes.   A flood of emotion overcomes Mary.  A smile tentatively spreads across her face, and as Peter sees this, his knitted brow relaxes.  Mary takes a deep breath, and lets out a sigh.  “I have loved you for as long as I can remember, Peter.”

They look tenderly at each other.  Peter responds, saying, “Well, let’s go there right now.” 

Peter and Mary fetch the Moore's best traveling horse, Rebecca.  Peter's strong hands help Mary up onto the silver mare, and their means of transportation to Salem.  She puts her arms around his shoulders and they gallop past the fields of golden corn, towards their ultimate destination.  She feels a sense of exhilaration as the powerful wind whips her hair across her face.  It seems to whisper in her ear, “Mary, find the strength…find the strength…”  She will.  She will face Elizabeth, and the rest of Salem.  She will repent for her sins; and make it up to them.  She is determined do whatever it takes to complete this journey to forgiveness.