“Shut up, witch!” Again, she received a hard, stinging slap across the face. Her ears rang. Her cheeks stung. But she was now completely awake. She mentally thanked the brute who slapped her, silently promising to pay him back, later.She tested the ropes that held her hands together. They were painfully tight. She wasn’t going to get away easily. She concentrated on making her wrists smaller.“Hey! Now we got ‘er, what’r we gonna do with ‘er?” the man still sitting at the table asked. Béla concluded that he was the most dim-witted of the three, but he was also the most vicious. “She’s a witch! An’ e’ know what we do with witches!”‘Christ! Not another burning!’ she desperately hoped.Béla looked at the man who had slapped her. He was looking at her like he expected a reply.“Why do you think I’m a witch?” she asked him.“Oho!” the dim-witted one said, still sitting at the table. “We seen you, lady. Yeah, we seen you dancing around, makin’ yer blood sacrifices. We seen you die and we seen. I don’t know if it would have made any difference then. You had drug me out of my depression but even so I hadn’t come to a realization of all the changes that had taken place. Most of all I didn’t understand the changes that had taken place inside me. I wasn’t the high school cheerleader and the perky member of the Homecoming Court anymore. So I let you go. I didn’t know then what I know now, that I couldn’t go home any more than you were able to after Vietnam. ‘I tried though. I took that Freedom Bird back to the States. My whole family was waiting when I got off the plane. And I wasn’t in that damn wheelchair I promise you. I took it back to the hospital the day I left the quarters we had been sharing. That was the day after you left. You did teach me that. I could lie in the cold water and bitch, or I could do something about it. ‘The strangest thing about being back home is that everyone tried so damn hard to be understanding. Sometimes it drove me up a wall. The one who.
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