Homestead on the Corner

CONTENT WARNING: Implications of OCD and chronic illness, grief, and loss

In the furthest reaches of the Deep-Wood, two Witches share a life balanced on the edge between life and death…

Starring Alejandra Cejudo as Maeven and Virginia Spotts as Anthea, with original music by Jesse Haugen and music mixing by Super Sauce Audio. Written and produced by Virginia Spotts, with dialogue editing and sound design by Van Winkle. This special was made possible by our supporters at Patreon.com/homesteadcorner

“Dark Emptiness” elements created by jalastram (https://freesound.org/people/jalastram/), Licensed under Creative Commons (CC 3.0 Unported: https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/)

Script

Transcript

CONTENT WARNING: Implications of OCD and chronic illness, grief, and loss

[The sounds of a fresh spring day; birds, insects, gentle wind in the trees]

Maeven

It’s just another walk in the woods.

Anthea

Like we do every day.

Maeven

Like we do every day.

[Anthea extends her hand]

Anthea

And I’m here with you.

Maeven

Yes, you are.

Anthea

We can keep each other safe. Besides, we haven’t seen the Witchbane at all since—

[Maeven stiffens]

Anthea

Sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything.

[Maeven descends the wooden steps cautiously]

Maeven

Some days are just harder than others.

Anthea

I know, love.

[Dirt under their footsteps]

[The noises of the woods become more present]

Anthea

What should we do today? Perhaps we could gather more sticks for the dead hedge?

Maeven

The squirrels will be wanting somewhere to have their babies soon, I suppose.

Anthea

And it was so lovely to see them gather last spring.

[They stop walking]

Maeven

I don’t remember much of that.

Anthea

No?

Maeven

I remember you.

Anthea

[Slight laugh] But you do remember when they birthed those babies, don’t you?

Maeven

Hmmm… 

[Anthea turns to her]

Anthea

The days were getting warmer. We took our breakfast outdoors… 

Maeven

Yes… 

Anthea

We had that fresh bread, and—

Maeven

—and the eggs, yes.

Anthea

And we sat on our steps. It was the first time I called them “our steps.”

Maeven

Of course I remember that.

Anthea

And we looked out into the half-built dead hedge, and there they were. The little squirrels.

Maeven

You’re right. I thought I’d forgotten that.

[They keep walking]

Maeven

I wish I could forget the Witchbane. It isn’t natural for me to fear the woods. And besides — you were the one who fell ill, not me.

Anthea

You nearly watched me die, remember? Nursed me back to health. Battled the cursed thing with your own two hands. I was just taking a long nap.

Maeven

It’s only… I’ve pledged my life to the service of the Echowood. Death, danger, rot… it’s all a part of it. [Noise of a nearby stream grows] A natural balance to the life and beauty of this place. If I can’t hold both in my hands… what am I?

[They stop beside the stream]

Anthea

Do you think the stream questions what she is?

Maeven

Anthea… 

Anthea

The stream just is.

[Pause, watching the stream]

Anthea

Be like the water. Whenever you feel frozen, whenever that old fear rises… just let those thoughts flow by.

[Maeven sighs]

Anthea

See that leaf? That’s a thought of Witchbane. You don’t need to grab onto it. Just let it flow downstream.

[They watch a leaf flow down the stream]

Maeven

What would I do without you?

Anthea

Lets hope you never have to find out, Princess.

[Later, in a summer…]

[The sounds of people laughing and talking as their wagon rolls off]

[Summer insects]

Maeven

Farewell, travelers!

Anthea

Farewell!

[They watch the wagon disappear, and then exhale in relief]

Maeven

Oh I thought they’d never leave.

Anthea

You’re telling me.

[Maeven undoes a button on her corset top, sighing as the pressure is released]

[Anthea struggles with hers]

Anthea

Can you get mine?

Maeven

Of course.

[Maeven releases the tension on Anthea’s dress]

[Anthea sighs with pleasure and frustration]

Anthea

I don’t know why you insist on putting on this act for passersby.

Maeven

I do not!

Anthea

Oh yes you do! If it were up to me, I’d throw these dress laces straight into the fire.

Maeven

Don’t you dare, it took me forever to spin those—

Anthea

—in the summertime, no less.

Maeven

Alright, alright. 

[Anthea sighs, then giggles]

Anthea

You get so cranky when you’re hot.

Maeven

If that isn’t the pot calling the kettle… 

Anthea

I’ll get started on supper.

[Anthea turns and climbs the stairs into the house]

[Maeven rubs her sides and winces slightly]

[After a moment, Maeven turns and climbs up after Anthea, opening the door]

Maeven

Anthea, do you think we—

[She stops short as Anthea winces in pain, clutching the countertop]

Maeven

Anthea? What’s wrong?

Anthea (slurring her words slightly)

Nothing, just… just a dizzy spell.

Maeven

Sit, sit.

[Maeven pulls up a chair; Anthea sinks into it with a sigh]

Maeven

There — I’ve got you.

Anthea

Sorry, I… it must be the heat in here.

Maeven

I’ll open the windows.

[Maeven pushes a couple of creaking windows open]

[Anthea laughs weakly, grateful]

Anthea

Thank you, Mae.

Maeven

Of course. I’ll… I’ll take care of supper, you rest.

[Maeven approaches the counter and resumes Anthea’s chopping, then pauses]

[She grabs a pail and fills it with fresh water from a hand pump in the corner]

Anthea

I washed those this morning.

Maeven

I’ve got it, Anthea.

[Maeven returns to the counter and dunks the vegetables inside]

[She swishes them around as she counts under her breath]

Maeven (quietly)

One, two, three. [Small splash as she reverses the direction] One, two, three. [Small splash as she reverses it again] One, two, three… 

Anthea

Mae… 

[Maeven pauses, then turns]

Maeven

I’m sorry. It’s just… it helps me. It helps me to know. 

Anthea

I know.

Maeven

Please, I can’t bear your disappointment.

[Anthea rises, chair scraping, then hugs Maeven from behind]

Anthea

I’m not disappointed. How could I be?

Maeven

I don’t want you to think I don’t trust you. It just… helps, sometimes. Washing the food myself. I can’t help thinking of—

Anthea

—the spores.

Maeven

Yes.

Anthea

Well you did an excellent job of rinsing them off again.

[Maeven pulls the veggies out and sets them down]

[She gently pours the water into their basin, letting it flow down the drain]

Anthea

Oh I see what you’re up to.

Maeven

It helps me too, you know. To just watch the water flow.

[She sets the empty pail down]

Maeven

You know, I’ve always loved you.

Anthea

And I always will.

[Later, in an autumn…]

[A gentle fire crackles, the insects sing in the twilight]

Anthea (after a sigh)

The fresh air helps.

Maeven

I’m glad.

Anthea

I’ve been working inside so much lately, I completely missed the harvest. It really is beautiful out here.

Maeven

Not completely?

Anthea

Well, no. I suppose I was there to see what came in. And that was exciting in its own way. A new way, perhaps.

Maeven

Maybe it will be better next harvest.

[Pause, the fire crackles]

Anthea

Maeven?

Maeven

What?

Anthea

My mother—

Maeven

Please, Anthea, don’t—

Anthea

—Maeven, I must tell you.

Maeven

Why? Why must you?

Anthea

Don’t you want to know what might happen to me?

Maeven

Not until we’ve tried everything we can. 

Anthea

Mae—

Maeven

Are you telling me that you and I, two witches with decades of magic between us, are completely helpless to stop this? That I can do nothing but watch you fade? The brightest light that has ever graced this forest, and I’m to let that disappear?

Anthea

You are to let it be.

[An uneasy breath escapes Anthea as she recovers from her words]

Anthea

And you are to let me show you how to love me. Can you do that?

[Maeven sighs]

Maeven

You know I can’t argue with you like this.

[Anthea laughs]

Anthea

Oh, we both know that isn’t true.

Maeven

Tell me, then.

Anthea

I don’t remember my mother — my birth mother. My father remarried when I was very young, and I was her last child. But he did tell me what became of her… what took her from this world.

[Anthea’s voice fades out]

[Later, in winter…]

[The witches lie in bed, listening to a fire in the hearth, watching the quiet snow outside]

[Anthea struggles to speak and breathe in a relaxed way]

Anthea

I guess this was inevitable, wasn’t it?

Maeven

I don’t like you saying that. 

Anthea

I know.

Maeven

I want more time with you. Isn’t that strange? Seventy years we’ve had, and it’s not enough.

Anthea

I know.

Maeven

I can’t lose you. I need to do something. There has to be something we haven’t tried — some poultice or treatment, something that’ll keep me up days and nights working on it — anything to keep you here! I’ve done it before, I— I—

Anthea

I know.

[She shifts, and looks her in the eyes]

But you know what wasn’t inevitable? Our time together. We both chose a solitary life. We both sought out the far corners of the world. And even still we dragged our feet on our way to each other. This time with you wasn’t inevitable. We fought it, even. And then… and then our defenses melted in a glorious spring. And we built a world more wonderful than we ever could have on our own.

[Maeven sniffles]

Maeven

It’s a miracle, isn’t it?

Anthea

It is.

Maeven

Suppose… suppose in another lifetime, we’ll find each other again. Do you think that’s possible?

Anthea

It took the threat of death for me to see how much I needed you, Mae. Far as I see it, death and I are old friends.

Maeven

So you think something can be arranged?

Anthea

I do, indeed.

[The pot on the hearth bubbles]

Anthea

Stew’s almost done.

Maeven

I’m not ready to leave this moment.

[A pause, then Anthea raises her arm from the covers with some difficulty]

Anthea (trying to be louder)

Pot, pot, boiling hot… 

give us witches time in thought.

[POOF – the fire cools and the bubbling slows]

[Anthea brings her arm back under the covers with a wince]

Anthea

Then don’t. Let’s not leave this one just yet.

Maeven

It is nice… just to watch that quiet snow falling outside.

Anthea

Letting it flow… 

Maeven

Watching it drift… I’m trying my best not to hold on too tightly.

Anthea

I know.

[An owl calls in the distance]

Maeven

I’ve always loved you, Anthea.

Anthea

…And I always will.

[Fire crackles]

[End Theme & Credits]