Chapter 6Pearl

We haven't really talked about the baby yet. That little kid - whose innocent life popped up, thanks to some crazy twist of fate, like a gorgeous, forever flower, from a really messed-up passion.

It was so weird to the sad woman as she watched her grow, seeing her beauty get brighter every day, and her smarts shining all over this kid's face. Her Pearl! - That’s what Hester called her. Not because she looked calm or pure, like a pearl would.

But because the baby was so precious - everything Hester had, her only treasure! Seriously, it was wild! People marked this woman’s sin with a scarlet letter, and it was so powerful and awful that no one could feel sorry for her unless they were messed up too.

But God, because of the sin people punished, gave her this beautiful kid. The baby belonged right there on that dishonored chest, connecting her mom to all of humanity, and eventually becoming a blessed soul in heaven. But these thoughts made Hester Prynne feel more worried than hopeful.

She knew her deed was bad; she couldn't believe the result would be good. Every day, she anxiously watched the kid grow, always scared she’d see something dark or strange, something that matched the guilt she came from.

There was nothing physically wrong with her. Seriously, she was perfect. Her shape, her energy, how easily she moved - it was like she belonged in Eden, totally worthy of being left there to mess around with the angels after everyone else got kicked out.

She had this natural cool that doesn't always go with being conventionally beautiful. Even her clothes, no matter how basic, looked amazing on her, like they were made for her. But little Pearl wasn't wearing simple stuff.

Her mom, for reasons that's gonna make sense later, got the most expensive fabrics she could find and let her imagination run wild with Pearl’s outfits whenever they went out.

Seriously, the kid looked amazing in those clothes, and she was already gorgeous, so the fancy robes just made her shine even brighter - like a spotlight on a dark room. And get this: even when she was wearing a ripped, dirty dress from playing outside, she still looked perfect.

Pearl was like a bunch of different kids all rolled into one, from a cute little peasant baby to a tiny princess. But she always had this intense vibe, this depth to her - she never lost it. If she ever got faded or pale, she wouldn’t even be Pearl anymore!

Her changing appearance pretty much showed what was going on inside. She seemed deep and complex, but - or maybe Hester was just worried - she didn’t really fit into the world she was born into. The kid just couldn’t follow rules.

Bringing her into existence had broken a big law, and the result was someone with beautiful, brilliant parts, but totally chaotic. Or maybe they had their own kind of order, making it hard to see how things connected or made sense.

Hester could only guess at the child's personality - and she wasnn't really sure she was getting it right - remembering what she’s been like during that huge time when Pearl was growing, absorbing her soul from the spiritual world and her body from the earth.

Hester’s intense emotions had been the way those feelings got to the baby. Even though they were pure to start, they’d picked up all the colors of her life: deep reds and golds, a fiery glow, dark shadows, and raw energy. Most of all, the battles Hester fought back then lived on in Pearl.

She saw her own wild, desperate, defiant attitude, the way her moods shifted, and even some of the sad, gloomy feelings that had haunted her. They were brightened by a young child’s spirit now, but later on, they could bring on some serious storms.

Back then, family discipline was way stricter than it is now. A frown, a harsh word, or even the rod - people used that stuff, claiming it was in the Bible - not just for when kids did something wrong, but to build good habits and character.

Hester Prynne, though, the only mom to this one kid, wasn't likely to be too hard on her. Remembering her own mistakes and tough times, she tried early on to be firm but gentle with the little one she was responsible for. But it was just too much for her.

After trying smiles and frowns, and seeing neither one really worked, Hester had to let Pearl just do her own thing. Physical control worked, for a bit.

But when it came to anything else - trying to teach her something or get her to feel a certain way - it was a crapshoot whether Pearl would even pay attention, depending on her mood. Hester learned to spot a certain look that told her it was pointless to argue, reason, or beg.

It was a look that was so smart but also weird, sometimes even mean, but usually with a wild energy. Hester would wonder if Pearl was even a regular kid. She seemed more like a playful spirit, having fun in the house for a while, then just disappearing with a teasing grin.

Whenever that look flashed in her wild, bright, super-black eyes, she felt distant, like she wasn't really there. It was like she was floating, and could just disappear - like a random sparkle, showing up out of nowhere and then vanishing.

Seeing it, Hester would dash over to the kid - to chase after the little sprite who was always taking off - to grab her close and shower her with tight hugs and kisses. Not really because she was overflowing with love, but to make sure Pearl was real, not just a dream.

But Pearl’s laugh, when she was caught, was so happy and musical, it actually made Hester even more unsure than before.

Totally heartbroken by this crazy, confusing vibe that kept popping up between her and her everything - the person she’d poured her heart into, who meant the whole world to her - Hester would sometimes just lose it and cry.

Then, like, you never knew how it would play out - Pearl might scowl, ball up her tiny fist, and make this super serious, unimpressed face. She'd often burst out laughing again, louder than before, like she couldn't even grasp human sadness.

Or - but this was rare - she'd have a full-on meltdown, sobbing about how much she loved her mom, saying broken words, like she was trying to prove she had a heart by crushing it. But Hester couldn't really rely on that intense feeling; it would just disappear as quickly as it came.

Thinking about all this, Hester felt like she’d summoned a spirit, but messed up the magic, and couldn't get the key phrase to control this new, weird intelligence. Her only real peace was when Pearl was sleeping soundly.

Then she knew she was safe, and felt hours of quiet, sad, amazing happiness - until, like, Pearl would wake up with that strange look in her eyes!

How fast - seriously, it was crazy! - did Pearl get to an age where she could hang out with other people, beyond just her mom’s smiles and baby talk?

It would have been amazing if Hester Prynne could have heard her clear, sweet voice with all the other kids, and picked out her own little girl's voice in all the noise. But that just wasn't gonna happen. Pearl was born an outsider. An imp, a sign of sin - she didn't belong with the other kids.

It was wild how she seemed to know she was alone; that there was this invisible wall around her; just how different her situation was. Hester never went out in public without her.

Everywhere they went in town, Pearl was there - first as a baby in her arms, then as this little girl, her mom's tiny sidekick, gripping her finger tight and keeping up with three or four steps for every one of Hester's.

She’d see the other kids in the town, hanging out on the grassy streets or at their houses, doing whatever the strict Puritan rules allowed - maybe pretending to go to church, or pretending to punish Quakers, or playing "scalp the Indians," or scaring each other with fake magic tricks.

Pearl would watch, and stare, but never try to be friends. If someone talked to her, she wouldn't say anything back.

Sometimes the kids would crowd around her, but Pearl would get super mad, picking up rocks to throw, yelling in a high-pitched, jumbled mess that made Hester nervous - it sounded like a witch's curse in some language she didn't know.

Honestly, those little Puritans were seriously intense - like, the most intolerant group ever. They got this weird vibe, something totally out of the ordinary, about Hester and Pearl. They just dismissed them, and often straight-up roasted them.

Pearl felt it, and she hated them back, a kid's full-on, burning hatred. Those bursts of anger were actually a comfort to Hester. At least she could understand what Pearl was feeling, instead of those random, frustrating mood swings.

Still, it freaked her out to see a bit of her own darkness reflected in Pearl. All that animosity and passion? Pearl inherited it, fair and square, from Hester’s heart. Mom and daughter were both shut off from everyone else.

And in Pearl, Hester saw those same restless feelings that had troubled her before Pearl was born, but were slowly calming down thanks to motherhood.

At home, around her mom’s cottage, Pearl didn’t need a huge group of friends. Her imagination was always buzzing, sending out vibes and connecting with everything around her, like a lighter sparking a flame.

A stick, a pile of rags, even a flower - they were all puppets in Pearl’s magic, changing in her mind to fit whatever story she was playing out. Her voice did it all, for a ton of imaginary people, young and old. The pine trees, dark and serious, groaning in the wind, instantly became Puritan elders.

Even the ugliest weeds in the garden were their kids, and Pearl would stomp them down, no mercy. It was wild, how she threw herself into different characters, jumping from one to the next, always supercharged. It was like watching the Northern Lights - a crazy, flickering show.

You might see this kind of imagination in other kids, too, especially ones who are naturally clever. But Pearl didnn't have a lot of real-life friends, so she spent more time with the characters she made up. The weird thing was, she felt kinda hostile towards all these creations of her own mind.

She never made any friends, always just tossing out dragon's teeth. And from them popped up a whole bunch of armed enemies. She’d rush into battle against them.

It was seriously heartbreaking - like, imagine how a mom would feel, knowing she caused it - to see someone so young always expecting the world to be against her. And to see her training so hard, getting ready for the fight she knew was coming.

Hester Prynne would often stop what she was doing, staring at Pearl. Then she’s just cry, letting out a pain she really wanted to hide. It just burst out, like a mix of words and a groan - "Oh, God, if you’re still my Father - what is this thing I’m bringing into the world?"

Pearl would hear her, or somehow just know about her sadness. Then she’d turn her bright, beautiful little face to her mom, smile with this playful, smart look, and go right back to playing.

There's one thing about the kid's behavior that hasn't been mentioned yet. The very first thing she noticed when she came into the world was - what? - not her mom’s smile. Other babies do that, right? They respond with that tiny, almost-smile, that little mouth thing.

Everyone debates whether it was really a smile later on. Not Pearl! The first thing she seemed to notice was - let's just say it - the scarlet letter on Hester’s chest! One day, as her mom leaned over the crib, the baby’s eyes caught the sparkle of the gold embroidery around the letter.

She reached out her little hand and grabbed it, smiling - not hesitantly, but with a knowing look. It made her look way older than she was. Then, Hester Prynne gasped and clutched the letter, trying to rip it off. It hurt so much, that little hand’s touch!

Again, as if her mom’s worried move was just a game, little Pearl looked right at her and smiled! From that point on, Hester never felt safe - not even for a second. She couldn’t really enjoy anything. Sometimes weeks would go by where Pearl didn’t even glance at the letter. But then, bam!

It would happen out of nowhere, like a sudden shock. Always with that weird smile and that look in her eyes.

Once, this weird, elvish look flashed in the child’s eyes, while Hester was checking out her reflection in them - like moms do. Suddenly - because women alone and with heavy hearts get tripped up by strange things - she thought she saw not her own face, but another one, in Pearl’s tiny black eyes.

It was a face, kinda creepy, full of sly smiles, but still looked like someone she knew well, though rarely with a smile, and never with any meanness. It was like an evil spirit had taken over the kid, and was just popping out to tease. Hester was haunted by that same feeling a bunch of times after.

One summer afternoon, when Pearl was old enough to run around, she was having a blast picking wildflowers and tossing them, one by one, at her mom’s chest. She’s bouncing up and down like a little elf whenever she hit the scarlet letter. Hester’s first instinct was to cover her chest with her hands.

But, whether it was pride or just accepting things, or a feeling that her punishment was best served by this crazy pain, she held back and sat straight, pale as a ghost, looking into Pearl’s wild eyes.

The flower attack kept coming, almost always hitting the mark, and covering her mom’s chest with hurts she couldn't heal, not here, and she didn't know how to look for it anywhere else.

Finally, when she ran out of flowers, the kid froze and stared at Hester, with that little, devilish look peeking out - or, at least, Hester thought it was - from the deep, dark pit of her black eyes. "Hey, kid, what are you?" her mom asked. "Oh, I’m your little Pearl!" the kid replied.

But as she said it, Pearl laughed and started bouncing around, like a little sprite about to zoom up the chimney. "Are you really my kid?" asked Hester. She wasn’t just being casual, though; for a moment, she was really serious.

"Pearl was so smart, her mom almost wondered if she knew the secret of how she was born and might spill the beans. "Yeah, I’m little Pearl!" the child repeated, still goofing around. "You’re not my kid!

"You’re not my Pearl!" said the mom, kind of joking around, because sometimes a playful urge would hit her even when she was hurting bad. "Tell me, then, what you are and who sent you here. "Tell me, Mom!" said the child seriously, coming up to Hester and snuggling into her knees. "You tell me!"

"Your Heavenly Father sent you!" answered Hester Prynne. But she said it with a pause that the child totally noticed. Whether it was just her usual weirdness or if a bad spirit was pushing her, she raised her tiny finger and touched the scarlet letter. "He didnn't send me!" she yelled, for real.

I don’t have a Heavenly Father! Shush, Pearl, shush ! said the mom, holding back a groan. He sent us all into this world. He sent even me, your mom. So, way more you! Or, if not, you strange and fairy-like kid, where did you even come from? Tell me!

Tell me! repeated Pearl, no longer serious, but laughing and dancing around the floor. You have to tell me!

But Hester couldn't figure it out, because she was totally lost in her own doubts. She remembered - with a smile and a shiver - what people in the nearby towns were saying. They were trying so hard to find out who Pearl’s dad was.

And because of some of Pearl’s weird quirks, they started saying that poor little Pearl was a demon baby. Apparently, ever since way back in Catholic times, those things had shown up on Earth because of their mom's sins, to do something nasty and evil.

Luther, according to the gossip from his monk enemies, was one of those hellish kids. And Pearl wasn't the only child people thought had a shady origin - New England Puritans thought that too.