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a portion of the supplemental text contained in this post.

Deleted Scene from THE WORKING

October 29, 2024

Here’s a supplement to my novel, The Working—a gift to my readers!

I deleted this backstory sequence from the final version of The Working. It describes how Betsy became part of the coven.

This and future supplements may not make sense out of context—I hope you read The Working. It’s also from an earlier draft so is a bit rough around the edges!

By the way, I mention supplements in Part 2 of my interview with Cynthia Lamb. Watch for the video on my YouTube channel (it will post late today). Enjoy!

How Betsy Became Part of the Coven

a Supplement to The Working

by BrightFlame ©2024

BETSY REMEMBERED HOW INTIMIDATED she felt when she’d first passed through the old, warped door to Sail’s home. The wide stairway, the suggestion of vast rooms beyond the prominent foyer prompted her exclamation, “You have your own mansion.” Then, she’d shriveled at Sail’s stare. She had been so nervous about meeting the others for the first time, this faux pas hadn’t helped. Betsy knew Sail from reading her column in the regional paper. Touched by the way Sail gave the natural world a voice, Betsy had emailed her. Email was safe—something she could do from home without real personal contact. But Sail had replied and a month into their email exchanges, Betsy agreed to meet her at a feminist bookstore in the middle of New Jersey—a big deal since she rarely went out besides work and visiting her mother. After several Saturday afternoons sitting in the shop’s comfy chairs chatting about their love of Nature and how bothered they were about general society’s disrespect for the Earth, Sail mentioned circles. “Circles of what?” Betsy had asked. “We gather for ritual to connect with the Earth and to one another.” Betsy wanted to be part of that circle, but didn’t know how to ask. Thankfully, she didn’t have to, because Sail phoned her a few days later. “I mentioned you to the women I circle with.” “Me?” Betsy was glad Sail couldn’t see her cheeks redden at that stupid reply. “Would you like to meet them?” “Yes! I want to know what it’s like to be in a circle.” “Betsy, hold on. They’d all need to meet you before agreeing to your joining us.” “Oh, I didn’t mean— I wouldn’t presume— of course, just a get together.” “It’s more than that. The only reason I mentioned you to them is that we might like another member of the circle. We wouldn’t be having this discussion if I didn’t like your energy.” Betsy lifted her chin and her spirits. Sail liked her energy. Then she realized that she didn’t quite know what Sail meant by the word “energy.” Shortly after that conversation, Betsy met the others: Fire, Mari, and Tal. Of course, she’d contrasted their interesting names with her plain blah Betsy. Even their hair was more vibrant than hers: athletic-looking Sail’s perky, blond blunt cut framed her pointed chin; lanky Fire’s long, straight black hair shone around her pale face; soft and svelte Mari’s red halo of curls lifted her sparkly eyes; and rosy-tan Tal’s full black mane matched her glasses and set off her wide, proud face. Had that really only been three months ago? At that first meeting, she’d sat forward on the couch, looking around at the geometric pattern of the rug, looking at the patina of wear and age on the wood floor, looking at the stones that climbed up the wall from the fireplace. Looking everywhere but into the eyes of these women. Her attention was continuously drawn to vampire-like Fire in the corner wing chair with her arms folded across her chest, her cold, pale eyes measuring Betsy. Every time Betsy felt this gaze, she looked away and tried hard not to look back, but she couldn’t help herself—Fire’s intensity drew her eyes again and again. Each time she felt rebuffed by Fire, she would glance at Tal who seemed too distant to catch her eye—like she had better things to do than meet Betsy. Mari tried to make up for
the others’ judgment or disinterest by jumping in at any silence, often with a silly giggle that fell flat. And Betsy had thought that Sail really liked her, but she’d babied her into the house in front of the others with remarks like “oh, you were able to park in that tight space” and “you sure you can carry all that food you brought?” Each time Sail spoke to her that evening she’d worn what seemed to Betsy a disingenuous smile. They had passed around a water-smoothed, red stone to mark each woman’s turn telling a bit about her spiritual background. But they already knew each other’s stories—they’d had to listen to these again because of her. She didn’t even remember what she had said, though she knew she hadn’t made much of an impression. She was surprised when Sail phoned the following day, inviting her to join the circle. “I didn’t think I’d passed the test.” “What gave you that idea?” “Well, Fire stared at me like she wanted to eat me or something. And I thought you were having second thoughts.” “I think you read us wrong. I was nervous the others might not see why I had recommended you.” “You were nervous? Hmm …” Betsy attempted to revise her memory of Sail at the gathering. “Yes. Particularly about Fire. She was the most concerned about us adding a fifth. Mari is so new, you see, and we’re still adjusting to the jolt of her fresh, eager energy after two years of the original three of us working together. But we talked at length after you left and all of us agreed to ask you to be part of our coven. We would only ask if we had full consensus.” “Coven? You mean, like Witches? You want me to be a Witch?” “Well, yes. I thought you understood that. We talked with you about ritual.” “But you didn’t use that word before. I thought you needed a lot of training or to come from a family of Witches.” “We learn and discover together. That is what being in a coven means for us. We grow from the sum of our experiences. Would you like to take part?” “Yes. I would.” Betsy surprised herself with her eagerness. Once she’d gotten to know the other members of the coven, she’d felt silly about her first impressions. Still, she’d only been part of the circle for three months—three months of being buffeted by their vibrant and forthright manners, which didn’t help shake her anxiety about fitting in and doing this Witch thing right.

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