“Slow down, little pigs. There is plenty for everyone,” laughed Lilli the next morning as the chickens fought over the grain she was scattering. Above the fluttering of wings, she could hear Vater speaking to someone. Why wasn’t he working in the field, preparing the land for planting? He was usually out at first light. Surely nothing was wrong. When she rounded the corner, she was surprised to see him cutting the branches from a nearby tree and handing them to Friedrich.
“Quickly Mutter, come see. What is Vater doing?” she said, motioning for Mutter to join her.
Mutter sighed when she saw. “He is collecting twigs from the rowan tree. He believes it will ward off witchcraft, that the rowan tree has special powers.”
“But he has not done this before.” At least not that Lilli could recall.
“You were too young to remember, but there have been times in the past. It has been many years, though, since he has felt the need. He is more frightened these days. All the strange happenings of late. He believes it is his duty to protect this family.”
“Bring them along,” Vater said to Friedrich as he marched past Lilli and Mutter. With his arms filled with the freshly cut sticks, Friedrich hurried to keep up.
Ever since Herr Vogt’s barn burned down, Württemberg had become riddled with suspicion. Old fears were being reignited and long-forgotten superstitions talked about once again. Suddenly people worried that every small mishap might be the work of witches. Was witchcraft really making a resurgence in Württemberg? Many, like Vater, believed it was possible, and Lilli feared what that would mean for all of them.
“Why are you doing that?” asked Friedrich as Vater began hanging some of the branches over the doorway.
“I have already told you. The rowan branches will cure a house of witchcraft.”
Friedrich looked up at Vater with wide eyes. “Is our house bewitched?” Vater did not answer but continued with his task.
“It is a precaution,” he said when he finished securing the branches above the doorway. “One can never be too safe or too sure. I have seen enough in my day to know. Now, bring the rest inside.”
“Karl,” sighed Mutter. “Is this truly necessary?”
“This is not your concern, Marta. Come now, Friedrich, bring the rowan.” Mutter and Lilli followed close behind.
“You must stop him,” whispered Lilli as Vater continued to hang more rowan branches about the house. Mutter shook her head. There was nothing she could do. When the last of the branches were in place, Vater presented Friedrich with a small wooden cross. Friedrich smiled as he wrapped his hand around it. Lilli wished Vater wouldn’t fill her brother’s head with such nonsense. Friedrich was young and eagerly believed the things he was told.
“We will need to protect ourselves. Keep the cross with you at all times, Friedrich.”
“I will,” said Friedrich, tucking it into his waistband.
When Vater held out two crudely carved crosses to Mutter and Lilli, they both refused.
“I may not be able to stop you from putting rowan branches inside our dwelling,” said Mutter firmly, “but I will not be a part of this, and neither will Lilli.” Lilli was afraid that Vater might order them to take the crosses, but he didn’t. He pulled back his shoulders and looked down at Friedrich.
“Come now, Friedrich,” he said with a grunt. “At least someone in this family listens. We will fill the wagon with sticks and wood to take with us tonight.”
Shortly after the evening meal, Vater hitched the ox to the wagon. He had plans to meet up with some of the other villagers.
“Will you not change your mind about taking Friedrich?” Mutter said. “He is but a boy. It may not be safe for him.”
“It will be safe,” said Vater as he removed two ox bells from an old trunk. He gave them to Friedrich and told him to climb onto the wagon. Friedrich scurried outside; the bells in his hands rattled. Lilli wondered what they planned to do with them.
Vater looked at Mutter one last time. “Do not worry. I will see to it that Friedrich is safe,” he said closing the door.
Lilli stood in the doorway with Mutter as the silhouette of the ox and wagon was slowly swallowed up by the twilight.
“Where will they go to meet for this Walpurgisnacht, Mutter?” Lilli had been trying to think of places. She imagined it to be a secluded spot, some clearing in the woods perhaps, the night air filled with the shouts and cries from men and boys. A place where flames would have the freedom to leap and frolic, all with the hopes of chasing away some nonexistent evil they believed in.
“They go to a secret place,” said Mutter. “Vater never says where, nor do I ask. It is barbaric, a practise old as time. I have asked him not to partake, many times I have asked. All he says is that he has been going since he was a boy and he will not stop now. He believes he is protecting us, Lilli.”
The branches from the rowan tree scraped the side of the house in the breeze, a reminder to Lilli that their home was now protected from witches.
“Come inside,” Mutter urged. “There is nothing you can do.”
“Soon,” said Lilli as she wrapped her arms around herself. The soft clank of ox bells in the distance reminded her of the times Vater would travel to a neighbouring village, a journey that sometimes took him away for an entire day. She would wait by the gate for the sound of bells telling of his return, and would run the narrow path to meet him. Vater would stop the wagon and reach down for her, placing her in the seat beside him. He’d tell her about the places he’d been and all the wondrous sights he had witnessed. Sometimes he would bring small gifts. There was never any talk of witches. If only things could go back to the way they once were.