The Sin Eater's Soul
Bronwyn shot up in bed, awakened by the sound of bells toiling. Her heart plummeted, realizing they rang out six times. The Sin Eater was being summoned. But, why? Who had died? Surveying the room she lay in, she searched for signs as to what had happened. Yet the dirt floored cabin she had lived in for all her life stood the same.
Bronwyn peered down at her nightgown. The waist down was soaked with blood. She shuddered, realizing who the Sin Eater was being called for.
Though unsteady on her feet, she rose from bed and hurriedly tossed on her homespun dress. Summoning all her strength, she staggered outside. She advanced towards the crowd of people gathered out past her family’s vegetable garden. If her baby had to be buried, then she would be there to see the wee one’s soul through.
Bronwyn joined the back of the group, her aunts and cousins gasping when they realized she stood amongst them. She kept her chin up and fought back tears as she cut through her family and neighbors, until she reached the front. When she laid her eyes on what they all gathered about, she screamed. A cry more guttural than anything escaping her during labor.
There, buddled up in a woven basket, laid her babe. Though the sun was setting, Bronwyn could still make out her baby’s tiny body stirring the linen wrapped about it. Softly, the infant fussed, the heart wrenching sounds cutting through the chilly night air.
Bronwyn bolted to her child, but two strong arms locked around her before she could reach it. She fought as she was dragged back but couldn’t break free. She turned to see who was holding her back, not surprised to see the babe’s very own father.
“You,” she hissed, “I know what cruelties you’re capable of. But for the sake of your soul, you’d let your own flesh and blood freeze to death in the night’s chill?”
Ezekiel Hughes stony eyes simply stared off into the distance, with the same cold dissonance shining in them when he had forced himself on her that fateful day he stumbled upon her alone in the woods.
“Aye, let me nurse him,” she begged, “And why is the Sin Eater being called in? No one’s died that I can see,”
Ezekiel kept his grip tight around Bronwyn, but said nothing. Dismayed, she turned back to her babe. What in great heavens was going to happen to the wee one?
From her youth, Bronwyn had only ever known the Sin Eater to be summoned for funerals. The man’s role in the community traced back to a Welsh tradition that had been resurrected by the Hughes clan when they had settled upon this side of Ohio Appalachia. Over a decade ago, a lottery had been drawn to name the unlucky man who would be given the spiritual burden of absorbing all the sins of the village’s deceased. Before a funeral took place, bells rang out six times, summoning the Sin Eater. He would manifest out of the woods and wordlessly consume the small cake placed on the deceased one’s chest. The cake was said to contain the sins of the deceased and would transfer to whoever consumed it. As payment, the Sin Eater would be given canned food, salted pork and often a bottle of moonshine. Then he would leave, disappearing back into the thicket where he lived as a social outcast.
Bronwyn’s eyes searched the crowd, hoping someone would take pity on her. She spotted her father standing off to the side, staring at the ground.
“Papa!” she begged, “Please, oh, please let me nurse my babe,”
His eyes flickered upwards. For a moment, she thought his irises shone heavy with pity. But to her dismay, they quickly hardened to granite.
“Tell me at least, did I have a lass or a lad?” she whimpered.
He glowered back at her; his features etched in disgust. Bronwyn looked away, realizing her father wouldn’t be raising a hand to help her.
“Please,” Bronwyn moaned, beseeching the crowd, “My babe needs to be fed, to be warm. I’ll gladly let his sins be taken away by the Sin Eater, or whatever nonsense ritual you want performed, just let me nurse him first,”
No one paid Bronwyn’s pleas any attention. Every head was fixed on the black figure coming down the mountaintop. As if half-animal, The shadowy figure of the Sin Eater tore down the rocky terrain, his cloak trailing behind him like a dark apparition. When he met the crowd, all heads bowed low to the ground, avoiding looking upon the outcast. All except for Bronwyn who studied his shrouded face intently. Desperately, she hoped that that he might notice her. But beneath his hooded cloak she saw nothing but blackness.
The Sin Eater stood in front of the crowd, standing a good foot over all the other men. Without words, his imposing body stance demanded an explanation as to why he had been called.
“Sin Eater,” Ezekiel finally addressed him, “We have summoned you to dispose of this whore’s sin,”
The Sin Eater hood swiveled towards Ezekiel and Bronwyn. Bronwyn stiffened like a corpse in Ezekiel’s hands, realizing what exactly Ezekiel was asking.
“You wish for me to kill the babe?” the Sin Eater clarified, nodding towards the basket.
“Yes. Drown it in the river,” Ezekiel replied, “Before it grows up and brings shame and suffering on all of us,”
“You’re mad, I tell you!” Bronwyn shouted, finding her voice, “Do you really think killing this innocent babe is the answer? As if it’s just that easy? All your sins are going to have to be paid for one day by you, whether or not your family hires a sin eater,”
For her outburst, Ezekiel delivered a blow to Bronwyn’s head, knocking her to the ground. Though gasps rang out among the crowd, no one dared intervene. The Hughes clan was a formidable opponent, a family of many weapon wielding brothers.
“Ignore her. What do you say?” Ezekiel turned back to the Sin Eater. The hooded man stood silent for a moment.
“It’ll cost more than the usual fee,” he remarked in a clear voice.
“What did you have in mind?” Ezekiel asked.
“A horse. And enough canned supplies to last a month,”
“Done,” Ezekiel agreed, “I’ll set the goods on the largest rock near the bend in the river and tie the mount to the crooked hickory tree nearby,”
“I won’t do the deed until I receive payment,” the Sin Eater warned.
“Fair enough. I’ll gather the supplies right now and go down to the river with you,”
“The girl should deliver the goods. I can’t make a bargain for her soul’s sin with you, unless of course you’re the father,”
Looking up from the ground, Bronwyn saw a muscle working in Ezekiel’s jaw at the Sin Eater’s insinuation.
“I’ll send the mother,” Ezekiel agreed through clenched teeth.
The hood on the Sin Eater bobbed before he turned around, bending one knee to the ground as he picked up the basket carrying the babe. The hairs on Bronwyn’s arms stood straight as she watched the Sin Eater tote her infant son towards the direction of the river.
“Get up, then,” spat Ezekiel from above, “You don’t want the babe suffering longer than it has to, do ya’?”
Leading a horse, Bronwyn quickly trailed the stoney edge of the river. With every step, she rehearsed the pleas she would use to beg for her babe’s life. Up ahead, she saw the outline of the Sin Eater’s silhouette standing in the agreed upon spot. When she heard muffled crying, she dropped the reins and sprinted.
“Oh, please, sir. Let me nurse my babe,” Bronwyn cried, abandoning any modesty as her hands ripped at the top buttons of her dress. To her surprise, the Sin Eater quickly retrieved the red faced baby from under his cloak and unceremoniously deposited the squealing infant into her hold.
“I didn’t mean to touch the babe,” the Sin Eater grunted, quickly turning his back, “But it seemed cold,”
Bronwyn successfully latched her baby, sitting down on a nearby rock. She was thankful that the Sin Eater had risked the taboo of touching a villager for the sake of her babe’s wellbeing.
“Thank you,” murmured Bronwyn, “What now?” she wondered aloud, though she knew one thing. She would not willing give her baby back to him, or anyone else for that matter.
“I figga’ you should go southwest to Kentuckee,” the Sin Eater said over his shoulder, “Not tonight though,”
Bronwyn’s body flooded with relief at the kindness sounding in the man’s voice. The Sin Eater was willing to help her get away.
“You’ll have to hide away though, because I’m sure the Hughes brothers will figure out what you’re doing in the next hour or so. They’re mighty fine trackers,”
Bronwyn nodded in agreement. But, where could she take shelter?
“We’ll go to my cave. No one dares trespasses on my lands for fear of a bad spirit attaching to their souls,”
Bronwyn nodded again. This was true. After her baby had drunk it’s fill, she bundled him tightly to her chest. The Sin Eater helped Bronwyn mount the horse and began to lead it through the oak-hickory hillside. As he did so, she caught a glimpse of his snow white face. He couldn’t have been much older than twenty-five years of age, with forest green eyes and a long nose.
“Sir,” Bronwyn whispered as she rode, “My name is Bronwyn. What shall I call you?”
“The Sin Eater,”
“No. I mean, what is your Christian name?”
“Oh,” His voice was hesitant, “Gwydion,”
“Thank you, Gwydion. For everything,”
The man stopped suddenly, inhaling deeply.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”
“You shouldn’t call me that,” he replied gruffly.
“Forgive me sir, but I don’t believe in sin eating. My Granny gave me a Bible before she died, and I’ve read the whole thing. The only sins you are I will be judged for are the ones we commit, no matter what the Hughes clan said when they cast you out,”
“What will you name your boy?” The Gwydion asked abruptly, changing the subject.
“I’m not sure,” she murmured, confused. How had Gwydion found out the sex of her baby? No one had mentioned it at the gathering. Had he checked? If so, why? Now troubled, Bronwyn remained silent as they went deeper into the woods.
They started to descend a steep hill, using a path decorated with animal skulls swaying in tree branches, marking the land as that of the Sin Eater. Bronwyn’s unease grew greater as they advanced towards an ominous looking cave, surrounded by a ring of boulders.
“Hand me the babe,” Gwydion called up to her after tying up the mare.
Bronwyn hesitated, the same dread igniting inside her as when she realized she was alone in the woods with Ezikiel nine months ago. Before she could decide what to do, the Sin Eater reached upwards, snatching her son out of her arms. Wide-eyed, she scrambled down her mount, her arms outstretched to reclaim her son. Gwydion ignored her, striding towards the cave with the babe still in his arms.
“I’ll take him back, now,” she yelped, following at his heels. Once inside the cave, Bronwyn’s eyes adjusted to the dark and saw the Sin Eater lay her baby onto a bed of animal furs. She ran to her child, but before she could reach him, one of Gwydion’s hands caught her by the hair.
“Let go!” she screamed before being dragged across the ground. Suddenly, her body was released mid-air and then felt herself drop. Several moments later, her body collided against the soft ground. With a moan, she rolled over and looked up. Above her shined an orb of light.
“I’m lowering the baby down, now,” Gwydion announced matter-of-factly, the torchlight he carried disappearing for a moment.
Dazed, Bronwyn watched a basket swing down from above, by a rope measuring around eight feet. When it reached the ground, she sprung to her feet to retrieve her crying son.
“You better feed him,” Gwydion voice called down.
“Why?” Bronwyn croaked, clutching her son to her chest, “Why are you trapping us in this pit?”
“Don’t sound so ungrateful. I’m letting you two live, aren’t I?”
“To what purpose?” Bronwyn implored.
“Your son will replace me as the sin eater one day. He’ll eat my dead cake and rid me of all the sins blacking my soul,” Gwydion called down, raising up a bottle of moonshine before taking a long swig and walking away.
Bronwyn shuddered, realizing what a fool she had been. She looked down to her babe in her arms, who seemed to be peering up at her through the slits of his eyes. Kissing him, she undid her dress again to feed him. As he suckled, she said a prayer to God, beseeching him for the strength she would need to protect her son.
Slumping back against the cold ground wall of the pit that enclosed her, Bronwyn held her baby, stroking his velvety cheek. Just as he dozed off, Bronwyn heard the sound of commotion echoing from the front of the cave.
“BRONWYN!” she heard someone scream, followed by a crash. She heard more shouting, than gun fire followed by an eerie silence. She panicked, realizing that the Hughes brothers were here. Wide-eyed, she curled around her baby, trying to make herself as small as possible.
“Bronwyn?” a tentative voice called out. Her heart leapt at the familiar sound, it was the voice of her Pa.
“Pa?” she choked out. She looked up to see light shining above, her Pa’s weathered face staring down at her.
“Are you alright?”
“Yes,” she said, uncovering her babe, “My son’s alive to,”
To her surprise, she saw her Pa’s face brighten.
“Are the babe and I still in danger, Pa? Are the Hughes clan lookin’ for us?”
“Aye, but don’t worry now, we’ll find a way out,” he said, lowering down rope tied to the basket.
“You’re not mad at me anymore Pa?” she wondered aloud.
“No my darlin’. I never was mad, at least not enough to warrant my grandson’s death. But I played along with the sentiment of the crowd knowin’ I couldn’t take the whole mob myself. I followed you closely though, waiting for my chance,”
“Thanks be to God,” whispered Bronwyn, tucking her babe into the basket.
“Well, we aren’t in the clear yet. Now, hurry up, m’dear and send him up,” Her father urged, checking over his shoulder, “We’re far from safe,”