“Do I feel joy again?” Dimmesdale marveled aloud, looking to the heavens with shining eyes. “O Hester, thou art my better angel! I seem to have flung myself down upon these forest-leaves, and to have risen up all made anew, and with new powers to glorify Him that hath been merciful! This is already the better life! Why did we not find it sooner?” He clasped my elbow, and smiled, genuinely smiled at me.
“The past is gone!” I declared in a strong voice. “Wherefore should we linger upon it now? See! With this symbol, I undo it all, and make it as it had never been!” With that, I tore the letter from my breast, and flung it away; the small ache and burden that I knew withdrew. I stood motionless as the Narrator began again, my hand still outstretched, Dimmesdale and I looking on with wonder painted on our statue-like faces at the Scarlet A.
“The mystic token alighted on the hither verge of the stream,” Emily droned. “With a hand's breadth farther flight it would have fallen into the water, and have given the little brook another woe to carry onward, besides the unintelligible tale which it kept murmuring about. But there lay the embroidered letter, glittering like a lost jewel, which some ill-fated wanderer might pick up, and thenceforth be haunted by strange phantoms of guilt, sinkings of the heart, and unaccountable misfortune.” I blinked and the brook, once alive and babbling, became Mylar plastic; the dark grass that we sat upon, carpet; the trees vanished, replaced by the awe-struck faces of my classmates. I looked to Arthur Dimmesdale, but no, he was slowly becoming Grant again. The pain had left his face, and that hidden impishness returned. The class broke into resounding applause, and as I blinked again, the class room became solid, and real beneath my feet.
“Amazing,” McIntosh said, flipping all the lights back on again. “Just amazing!” I felt my face go red, and to occupy myself, I bent to retrieve the Scarlet Letter. “It was an illusion. Your costume Maddie - ” he gestured vaguely at me “ – was so unbelievably convincing. I think it was the Letter that did it, the fact that you actually put that much time into making it.”
I nodded and stared at my feet, afraid to look at anyone.
“Man,” said Kelsey, “there was something between you guys.” She grinned a little, pointing.
“Yeah, so, you guys should so get together,” McIntosh said, and laughed. I couldn’t resist – I glanced at Grant, but he didn’t meet my eye.
“I felt like I was actually there,” Cam murmured, looking as if he had just woken from a dream. “I mean, like I was intruding. It was...real.”
The praises went on, and I felt glorious, despite the fact that I was again trembling. After a few more questions and such, the bell rang, and we were left to go to lunch; the rest of the performances would follow after. As I gathered my things, my head reeled, trying to recapture every glorious moment. When I finally sat down to lunch, weariness took over. The emotional energy I had used was quite unexpected, and because of it, I was left feeling weak, but triumphant, for here I had given myself completely over to another being, and not one of my own invention, but another man’s...and though he has long passed out of this world, his children linger to teach and love others as he would have done.
I realized then, that my fondness of the Scarlet Letter could not be denied; I was going to make one of my own. A crimson W upon a sable field...for Writer.
