Being a vampyre, my memory of St. Johns and Heart’s Content will differ from that of other members of the Rowe family.

My family in Canada are of the vampyre, werewolf, and witch. That said, some of my cousins on the island are quite open about it. However, others are “veiled” and living among humans as humans. These same “veiled” relatives have come after “open” supernatural in the past by joining in human “witch hunts” while keeping their own practices secret.

This time, I have the receipts.

Below is proof that I have been in touch with my family on the island and have connections there.

In my story, these houses become a source of contention. While my memory is of course a bit distant, the gist went a bit like this. My great-grandmother, Margaret, had to give up her house to a “neighbor” or “victim” of supposed witchcraft. Otherwise her brother, Bertram, would have been homeless. Bertram stayed in his house while Margaret moved into the house with the yellow door. That later had to be traded with Frank and Margaret moved into Frank’s tiny home that has stayed in the family to this day. Disgusted, she moved with her own family to the United States. Although she did return during hospice and stayed with her brother, Frank, so that he would have to take care of her seeing as she traded her home and both of her brothers got better houses than she did in the whole ordeal.

This “fact “in my story sort of starts the whole matter. You see, my great-great grandmother’s parents owned a store on the island. It was successful, but waxed and waned with the fortunes of their neighbors and many existed on credit from the store. So, in hard times, another means of making money was rum. However, they were not the only people in that game. In time, the store closed and Maria (my great-great grandmother’s mother) needed financial help. I do not think it was ever disclosed to my great-great grandmother how her mother and at least one of her brothers was making some side money.

Until a rival came forward with a damning accusation.

He had been taken ill for some time while the brothers seemed to be making money hand over fist. His family was on the verge of losing everything. The doctors could not find what was wrong with him and he was unable to work. Now rumors had persisted for many years that Maria Babstock was, in fact, a witch. Not just her mind you but she was the mother of his rival(s).

One would think a man then should take the matter to the family themselves, the police, or even his church.

But this neighbor was hiding a secret of his own and the issue was brought before the witches council.

It was bitter cold outside but many of these punishments can also result in being lashed or whipped so Mariah dressed finely–both for the council and to cushion her body. A lashing could have resulted in her end. The truth of the matter was, they had used witchcraft. We argued that he was involved in illegal activities (not allowed for witches) and very well could have used witchcraft of his own without it ever being brought to council since Maria’s husband had fallen ill in a strange manner.

Although spared the whip, punishment was severe and unexpected.

Maria was crippled of the hands so she could never perform witchcraft again, while her son Bertram had to give the other man and his family a house since he deprived him of a livelihood and brought them to the loss of their home–though many argued rum trade had dried up and the house would have been sold anyway.

This is how Margaret lost her nice house. Despite being married, with a family, and having nothing to do with the matter.

As a vampyre, I have had many iterations or what humans would call “lives.” You might be surprised at how hard or unglamorous many of those have been. When my great-grandfather returned home to the island, I agreed to care for him. I left Rutgers and moved North. I attended Memorial University and received my MA in Folklore. My degree sat in a large trunk in my great-grandparent’s attic. During the shakedown, credit for that degree was taken by a human. One of my favorite things to talk about with my grandfather was hockey. She also took (absorbed, transferred, etc.) that knowledge, but it was limited to when I left the island so she wouldn’t have stats beyond the 1960s. This is a strange fact that she has not been able to explain. Nor how she paid for the school, where she supposedly lived, or why the school never mentions her or her “accomplishments.”

Anyway, seeing as I did not have marital prospects, I was given a piece of Rowe land that had an amazing view. The intention was for me to build a small home on it, but I did not want to stay on the island. The other members of the Rowe family went to war over it. I kept the land, but wanted it to stay empty so all Rowe family members could enjoy the view. And that is how it was to remain unless I returned.