Cabot's Neck: A supernatural novel with demons, curses and time travel

 CABOT’S NECK

 

by

G. Wayne Miller

Copyright 2025 gwaynemiller.com

WGA registration # 2286466

Chapter One

Nothing there

 “I love this beach!” seven-year-old Cassie Cabot said. “Mom and Dad, can we come back here tomorrow?”

“Yes!” said her mother, Daniela Cabot.

“And every day until vacation’s over!” said her father, Jim Cabot.

“Yay!”

It was the summer of 2027 and the Cabots, who lived in Boston, had rented a house in Ipswich, Massachusetts, to celebrate good fortune: Daniela, one of the world’s top video game designers, had just completed her latest game; Jim, an expert in AI, had recently been promoted from visiting lecturer to assistant professor at MIT; and Cassandra, who liked being called Cassie, would start second grade at summer’s end after acing first.

Cassie packed the seashells she’d collected into her backpack, her parents gathered the blanket and cooler, and they started toward their car down the long, narrow, tree-covered path that was the only land access to the beach.

“Dad, can you tell me again how this peninsula got its name?” Cassie said. She was precocious, but she never flaunted her intelligence.

“You never tire of that story, do you,” Daniela said.

“Nope,” her daughter said

“Cabot’s Neck was named by one of my ancestors, Joseph Cabot, son of John Cabot, who came to America from England in 1700,” Jim said. “Joseph was born in Salem and he became wealthy enough to buy this land, which later Cabots donated to Ipswich for public use.”

 “But he made his money in a bad way,” Cassie said.

“He did,” Jim said.

“In the rum and slave trades,” Daniela said.

“For which Cabots born later made reparations,” Cassie said. “Tell me again: what are reparations?”

“Amends for terrible things done in the past,” Jim said. “My family later apologized and paid a lot of money to descendants of slaves. But money of course cannot undo the damage.”

“Your family was good,” Cassie said.

“Some members, anyway,” Jim said. “Now enough history. Let’s gather our stuff and get out of here. Hotdogs for dinner and S’mores for dessert.”

“Yay!” Cassie said. She ran ahead of her parents and stopped by an old oak tree.

When Daniela and Jim reached her, she was rubbing her hand along the tree trunk.

“How old do you think it is?” she said.

“It probably was here when Joseph Cabot bought this land,” Jim said.

“Wow,” Cassie said. “That’s ancient.”

“That lower limb has a rope tied around it,” Daniela said.

It was a small, weathered strand that had been cut near the knot.

“Probably was a rope swing,” Cassie said.

“Or an ancient gallows,” Jim joked. “Maybe they marched witches in from Salem to hang them.”

“Not funny, Jim,” Daniela said.

“I wasn’t joking,” Jim said. “There were witches galore back then, or so the Puritans believed. Let me show you the latest story I found. It’s fascinating.”