A Medieval Philosopher | Teen Ink

A Medieval Philosopher

December 12, 2013
By Eleanor Partington BRONZE, Stone Mountain, Georgia
Eleanor Partington BRONZE, Stone Mountain, Georgia
1 article 0 photos 0 comments

I locked my door with trembling fingers and stumbled to the darkest corner of my room. There was a burst of golden light as I lit a candle. I had just been to my first philosophy meeting. Of course, a woman couldn’t just show up, she would have been tried for witchcraft within ten minutes. But with a few clever tricks, such as tying up my hair under a cap, and borrowing my brother’s trousers, I passed as a young man well enough…hopefully.

I rummaged around in my satchel to find my notebook. I had heard so many fascinating things all at once, that I needed time to sort them all out. Their ideas about mathematics, science, and politics were so controversial that this was the first time I had heard them included in a casual conversation. As I pored over my notes about how to sanitize water to prevent the spread of disease, there was a shout from outside and the sound of running feet. Only a few seconds later, a deafening bang, BANG, BANG echoed through the small room. Somehow they had found me.

I quickly blew out my candle and huddled in the corner, hardly daring to make a sound. I clamped my hand over my nose and mouth to stifle my breathing. The door shuddered a few more times before there came a sharp hammering sound. Finally, the footsteps started to retreat. They were going to fetch a heavier tool to force open my door, no doubt. I knew I had to hurry. I stuffed all of the bread and cheese I had in my house into my satchel along with my notebook, grabbed a long cloak with a hood, and slipped out the door. As I quietly shut the door behind me, I noticed a big note tacked on the front. “WITCH’S HOUSE” it screamed back at me. I tore it off and threw it on the ground, using my foot to cover it in straw and dirt until it was invisible.
I tried to hurry down the streets without seeming too suspicious. I didn’t have a real plan, or any place to go for that matter.
“Oi, Jacquelyn!” I picked up my pace. How did that person know my name? I felt a tap on my shoulder. I sucked in a deep breath and turned around. I was surprised to see Rowan. I had talked to him briefly at the philosophy meeting. He had a strong jawline, an impish smile and skin the color of caramel.
“What are you doing here?” he asked in a concerned whisper. “Never mind, it’s not safe to talk out in the open, come with me.” Rowan grabbed my hand and pulled me urgently through the winding streets. We finally came to a stop in a part of town I had never seen before. Rowan started counting the houses until he came to the right one. He pulled me inside where I collapsed onto a chair to catch my breath.
“So, can you please explain what on earth is going on here?” I asked in exasperation.
“I’ll start at the beginning,” Rowan said gently. “Right after you left the philosophy meeting, I overheard some blokes talking about how they suspected ‘Jack’ was a woman in disguise. At first they joked about telling the witch hunters, but then it got serious. I knew I had to find you and warn you, but you had left early from the meeting and I had no idea where you lived. It was pure coincidence that I happened to be in the street right as you went past.”
“What can I do now? They’ll be searching for me all over town. There’s no way I can escape the gallows now.” I said, a sob hitching in my voice. Rowan lifted my chin, “C’mon now, don’t think like that! I’ve got a plan.” He winked at me before turning around quickly to gather supplies from under the cupboard. However, what he pulled out was far from what I expected. An intricate box that folded out in some way, and a beautiful ring with a round ruby in the very middle appeared on the table.
“What’s this?” I exclaimed, “I’ve never seen anything like it.” I ran my hands up and down the box, taking in its smooth texture and interesting ridges. It felt impossibly light for its size.
“This,” Rowan said, gesturing to the box, “is a flying contraption and this ring will guide your way to safety.”
“How is that possible? Are you a wizard? Is this magic?” I stuttered, still trying to take it all in. Rowan chuckled.
“Don’t be silly. I’m not a wizard; I just borrowed these from one. Now, we must make haste, we’ve already wasted too much time.” With that he shoved the box into his satchel. I hurriedly slid my ring on and followed him out the door.
“We have to make it to the cow pasture. Once we’re there, it’s smooth sailing, literally.” Rowan talked as though I knew what he was referring to, but in reality, I was kind of lost. I just nodded and struggled to keep pace with him. Each of his strides was twice as long as one of mine. He indicated that I should touch the stone in the middle of the ring. Curious, I tapped on the surface of the ruby. A yelp of surprise escaped me when I saw a beam of red light shining out of the stone. It pointed straight down the street.
“I guess the way to safety is that way,” Rowan said, his eyes gleaming. “Let’s go!” Once again he grabbed my hand and we ran down the streets, going whichever way the beam of light pointed. Although we were still in danger, this time the run seemed more exhilarating than panicked. The feeling evaporated when we heard a cry of recognition from behind us.
“Uh oh, looks like we’re about to be intercepted.” Rowan’s childlike glee faded for a split second before his eyes lit up again, “Luckily, I know a shortcut.”
My arm was yanked sharply to the left as we disappeared into an alley that I hadn’t even noticed before. After running along a short but serpentine path, we emerged on a lane that was close to the edge of town. We were back on course with my ring. We snuck through a crack between two houses, and suddenly we were in the cow pasture.
“This is where the flying contraptions come in.” Rowan could hardly contain his excitement. “Now, I’ve never actually used one of these before, but how hard could it be?” As soon as he unlatched the box, a platform with two ribbed wings, similar to those of bats except with wood and canvas, popped up. There were a few railings fore support and a small handle for steering. The hinges sprung into place perfectly.
“Hmmm,” Rowan stared at the glider inquisitively. “I wonder how it gets off the ground.” Just then, shouts erupted in the lane behind us, the witch hunters. Rowan looked all over for any kind of button or switch. The witch hunters were making their way toward us from across the field. Rowan smacked the side of the contraption in a fit of frustration. Miraculously, the glider hopped to life and hovered about a foot of the ground. Rowan jumped on and then offered his hand to me. As soon as both my feet were on the small platform, the flier sailed off in the direction of the ring beam. It knew exactly where to go. As my auburn hair whipped in the wind, I heard cries of anguish from the witch hunters we had left behind.
“This looks like a straight course for Scotland,” Rowan predicted.
“I could get used to that,” I said, smiling at him shyly. He hooked his arm around my waist as we skimmed the surface of a brook. Yeah, I thought to myself, I could definitely get used to this.



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