The Wishing Well

On the edge of town near the rocky outcropping and the field of buckwheat that blows in the wind, there is a well. Now this well is very special; over the years many people had come to recognize its special properties. The wayward passerby may toss a coin in the deep recesses of the wells birth, but the native knows that no manner of drachma or shilling will pacify the ancient well. There is only one thing that will satisfy this ancient magic and only one thing that will unlock the secrets of its enchanted slumber. But what it craves most is too terrible to imagine and comes at too high a cost, as many of us have learned. And it is passed on by those of us unfortunate enough to still remember.1

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Dominic was still vastly distraught over his recent loss. The love of his life was taken from him too soon for him to understand or even begin to do so. He spent most of his time sitting on a rock by the sea surrounded by the brine and cooling breeze. There was a certain solace in staring out at the sea and he found himself lost in the depths of its sweet embrace. His deep blue eyes began to turn sullen and grey and the skin on his bones lost its luster and substance. Dominic was ready to die. His sleep was broken and unfruitful and he could not remember the last time he had eaten anything that did not seem to him like ash. When he pulled at his hair clumps came out in his hands, and when he swam in the sea his mind filled with delusions of drifting out and away. There were no friends to share his pain and no family to ease his burdens. The bleak existence in which he lived was his to bear, and his alone.3

The nights turned to days and the days shifted to nights with no substance in between for the man and the salty sea. Days turned into months and months turned into years and there was still no joy to end his eternal grief. This went on until the eve of Dominic’s twenty-first birthday, though at the time his complexion showed him to be much older. He was out on what was for him a usual walk between his shack and the beach. The evening breeze blew across his face and tossed his hair about his head. Then a strange thing happened. His gaze went from its usual path of earth and sky and drifted toward the woods on his left. The groves of lemon trees and wild oak appealed to him and he felt a certain connection with the wildness of the place; there between the trees was the path. It was a plain dirt trail that anyone could have missed if they weren’t looking for it specifically. Slowly he felt himself shift his course toward the empty pass and he felt powerless to stop it.4

He walked on the path that continued to lead him deeper and deeper into the unknown. But he did not fear the unknown nor did he fear death; the specters of the forest could not hinder one such as him. The path spilled from the forest into an open glade that was filled with thick grasses and colorful flowers. And at the edge of the glade, near the cliff near the sea, was a well. Dominic did not know what forces moved him to go further, but he felt compelled to move toward the well. When he had reached it, when he had placed his hands on the cool stone a sudden sense of calm washed over him. He hadn’t felt this at ease in a long time and there was a certain mysticism that filled the place. Before he knew what was happening his hand dove into his pocket and retrieved a single copper. The coin gleamed in his hand and a destiny seemed to be vested in its simple act. With a flick of the wrist he threw the coin into the well and with it uttered his deepest wish.5

Later that night when Dominic was asleep in his bed he was woken by the sound of footsteps on the wooden floor. His eyes opened and he beheld his miracle for the first time. Standing there, bathed in the pale moonlight was his darling Rasia. He tried to speak to say that he loved and missed her but the words could not escape his mouth. She simply smiled at him and slowly removed her dress. She came closer to him and kissed him passionately on the mouth running her graceful fingers across his face. He smelt the rosewater on her bosom and he ran his fingers through her hair; he pulled her closer to him softly ran kisses up and down her neck. She sighed and moaned and held him close. Nothing in the world could pry him from her arms. The night was long and the moon was full, and not a sound was heard except for the gentle rhythm and sighs of passionate love.6

Over the next few weeks there was little that could pry Dominic away from the wishing well. Every day he would return to the well with a coin in his hand and the same wish in his heart. And every night he would make love to his departed Rasia, caress the curves of her body, and whisper sweet nothings into her ear. This continued for weeks on end until one day when the magic of the well took a turn for the worse. It was a cold October day and Dominic had his coin in hand when he came to the well that day. He held it to his heart and made a wish, and then he threw it in and prepared to leave. But then a very curious thing happened. The well spoke. “No more of this metallic stuff I fear it will give me a rotten stomach.” “You can speak!” Dominic shouted. “Of course I speak my son. I have not lived a thousand years to remain silent. Now about that rubbish you’re feeding me….” Dominic looked puzzled. “I did not know what else to give; tell me so that I may remedy this.” “What I require is something of more substance than coin or stone. I require the sacrifice of a child.” “I have no children good sir, that is something I can not give.”7

“There is a village not too far from your home am I correct?” The well replied. “What you are asking is too horrible to even imagine. I could not do that.” The well laughed heartily. “I think the question is do you want to see your wife again or not?”8

Dominic had no choice. Every night after his wife was asleep he would slip out of bed and run into the village. He would run until he found a house with a child inside and then he would sneak in through a window. Quietly and very carefully he would slit the child’s throat so that it would not make a sound. Then he would drag them to the well and throw them into it. The well accepted the offer greedily and was happy to renew Dominic’s wish every night. But soon the well demanded even more. It began to crave two children instead of one each night and Dominic would often come home in the mourning drenched in blood. His nights with Rasia became tainted and he found the passion and love to be stagnant. Finally the wells lust for blood became obscene. “I want a fair young maiden; older, and as beautiful as you can find.”9

Dominic complied and went to the village with every intention of procuring a sacrifice. But when he entered a house through the window and crept up to the bed of his victim a wave of unease struck him deep in his innards. The girl was no more than seventeen, about the age that Rasia was when she died. Her golden hair rested across the pillow and when she breathed in and out her chest rose and fell with a peaceful rhythm. She was beautiful, and she reminded Dominic so much of Rasia that it almost brought him to tears. Then he realized what he had become, that he was selfishly sacrificing dozens of lives just for one more night with his beloved. He picked the girl up gently from her bed and whisked her out the open window. He had no idea why he did so but he felt that he must.10

When he reached the well groaned at him impatiently. “Throw her in already, I grow hungry.” Then Dominic laid the girl upon a bed of sweet violets and walked towards the cliff. “Get her yourself.” The well barked at him angrily. “You cur do you wish to see your wife again! I am the only one who can bring her back!” Dominic shook his head. “I do want to see her again but not like this. Not when I have such sins upon me. I told them all about what I have done the villagers I mean. I wrote a letter to them and nailed it to the front of the church. I told them all about you, and I told them to seal you up and never come near here again.” The well began to protest but Dominic spoke again. “I loved Rasia with all my heart, and I will see her again. But you will use me as your pawn no more.” And with that Dominic cast himself from the cliff and onto the rocky shoals below. A wave caught his body and he slowly drifted out to sea. The young girl did not awaken for the sound of the sea and the feel of the flowers were enough to keep her in a deep and restful slumber.11

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The well was abandoned and the path unto it was sealed up for all time. Now no man may fall prey to its temptations again. Dominic is at peace, once again united with his darling Rasia. And the sea sings their song for all to hear. But the well still lives and breaths and ever so often coaxes a traveler with too much curiosity. And those travelers will find that the path is still sealed, but a new one now cuts through the woods. Brave is that fool who tosses his coin and silently makes a wish.13