Tier Trilogy: Books 1-3

by Cindy Gunderson

  “I cain’t do that,” she says slowly, shaking her head back and forth. “It’s aginst the rules.”

  As she speaks, a gap in her smile screams of a missing tooth. I desperately hope that it’s developmental delay and not because of decay or injury.

  “Rose, we can’t let you go in this condition. We need to make sure that you’re okay. If you can’t take us home, can you at least come to our home so we can help you clean up and give you more to eat? It’s nearly dark. You’ll need a safe place to sleep tonight. Then we can talk about potential options?” I ask.

  Her eyes again light up at the mention of food, but then quickly darken again.

  “I cain’t stay long, I hafta bring food to my little brothers an’ sisters. They real hungry too,” she explains, twisting her hands together.

  “Okay,” I agree, nodding. “Let’s get back and then we can figure this out. Are you alright to walk on your own?” I ask, noticing Eric’s look of protestation, but waving him off. “Look at her, Eric, she isn’t going to get very far on her own.”

  He sighs, then lowers his arms. “I’ll walk in the back, if that’s ok.”

  Tal and Bentley quickly gather their things and begin to walk.

  “I caught these pheasants today,” Bentley says, “but you probably already know that since you were watching us.”

  “We caught them, not just you,” Tal mutters, and I can’t help but laugh. So much for the seamless cooperation I witnessed a few minutes ago.

  “How many sisters do you have?” Bentley asks. “I don’t have any sisters. Well, I technically do, but I haven’t seen them since they were babies. They live with Nick. Do you know Nick?” He chatters continuously and Rose seems content to listen, never satisfying him with a reply, which only eggs him on. Slowly, her nervousness seems to fade and she begins to march with more purpose.

  “Eric, what are we doing?” I whisper, matching his step.

  “I don’t know, this was your idea,” he reminds me.

  “Well I couldn’t let her leave, I mean look at her. She’s skin and bones.”

  He nods.

  “Maybe we could make her a care package of some food she can take back to her family?”

  “Not a bad idea,” Eric muses, “but I would much rather take it and meet this ‘family’. Maybe we could offer it if she’s willing to let us go along?”

  “After she sees us at home, hopefully she’ll realize we aren’t a threat. I’m worried she’s not being taken care of,” I admit.

  “I don’t think you have to worry about that, it’s kind of a fact, don’t you think?”

  I sigh. “Yeah, I guess it is.”

  Rose looks back at us suspiciously, and I pick up my pace.

  Chapter 99

  Back at the house, I show Rose how to use the shower and rustle up some of Bentley’s smaller clothes for when she is clean. I gingerly pick up her dirty apparel and take it to the washbasin. Though I don’t have time to put it through a full wash, I scrub it thoroughly and rinse, then hang it on the line to dry overnight. Hopefully a couple hours in the morning sun will help with some of the darker stains.

  The child that emerges from the washroom is completely transformed. Her shoulder length hair lies in a sleek bob, framing her heart shaped face. Her skin nearly glows in comparison to her previous, dirt-smudged self. Even in Bentley’s clothes, her delicate femininity shows through.

  “Does that feel better?” I ask, and she shrugs, giving me a shy smile.

  Tal emerges from the pantry with a jar of jam and some jerky. “Can I give her this?” he asks. “It’s my favorite snack.”

  I smile and nod. It’s sweet watching him take such thought and care for someone he barely knows. Just for one minute, I wish I could be inside his brain—to view Rose through his lens. Was it shocking to see another child in that condition? Where does he think she came from?

  “Hey Rose, want to see my room?” Bentley calls from down the hall, and immediately her eyes are conflicted, not wanting to disappoint him, but salivating over the food that Tal is offering.

  “Bent, give her a minute, okay? I’m going to cook up some eggs if you want to join us.”

  “Be there in a sec!” he calls back.

  Eric opens the door and does a double-take when he notices Rose at the table. I shrug when he looks my direction in shock.

  “I hung the birds, we can finish with them in the morning,” he announces, recovering.

  “Thank you,” I say, walking toward him and giving him a peck on the cheek. When I turn back, Rose’s eyes are fixed on us. It would be unnerving if it wasn’t such an innocent stare. What does she think of us? Again, just one minute inside her head...

  “Do you like eggs, Rose?” I ask.

  She nods, ravenously scarfing down another piece of jerky.

  “Eat slowly,” I suggest, “you don’t want to make yourself sick.”

  “Anything I can help with?” Eric asks, washing his hands.

  “No, thanks. Easy dinner, remember?”

  He nods, smiling. “Where should we have Rose sleep?”

  “What about the back storage room? There are windows in there and plenty of space to put down blankets.”

  “Do you think that will be comfortable? If we just put down a few of the feather comforters?” Eric suggests.

  “I think so,” I say. Then turning to Rose, “Does that sound okay? We can show you the room if that would help.”

  “Sounds fine t’me. No need t’see it now,” she says between bites.

  “I’ll help you get blankets,” Bentley offers, following Eric out of the kitchen, swinging around the wooden beam in the middle of the room on his way out.

  After all three children are tucked in and the house is quiet, Eric and I begin tidying up. Normally Bent and Tal would help with that, but they were overly excited and exhausted with Rose’s arrival. I didn’t have the energy to enforce another expectation.

  “Do you think she’ll sleep okay?” Eric asks, his voice low.

  “I have no idea,” I admit. “You don’t think she’ll take off, do you?”

  “I thought about that,” he says, walking toward the door and pulling a rope out of the inside pocket of his jacket. “If I lock the pantry and cold room, I highly doubt she’ll be willing to leave with nothing.”

  I smile. “Brilliant, as always. But it does make me sad that we have to hold her hostage by withholding food.”

  “We aren’t withholding, just dictating the timing,” he rationalizes, rubbing my shoulder as he walks past to secure the pantry door.

  We awaken late, the sky cloudy overhead, not allowing the sun to announce the new day. Bouncing out of bed, I quickly dress and move to check on the kids. Seeing that all of them are still fast asleep, including Rose who apparently did not escape during the night, I busy myself with breakfast. Though I wasn’t planning to make anything fancy this morning, having a guest for the first time in two years inspires me. I open a bucket of wheat and grind a few cups, mixing it with eggs, soda, pumpkin puree that I canned last year—using old supply containers and a water bath—and spices. On a grey morning like this, warm pumpkin pancakes will be a treat, though it’s ironic that the days that inspire a warm meal are the days when we don’t have electricity to make it easy. Chuckling to myself, I throw on my jacket. On my way out to the yard, I scrape some tallow from the tin into a cup and pick up the bowl of batter, taking it with me to the fire pit.

  Returning to the kitchen with a plate of steaming pancakes, I am greeted by the sound of laughter wafting down the hall from the boys’ bedroom. Gathering the plates and forks, I set them on the table, then find the honey and berries from the pantry. The rope securing the door has been removed, so Eric must be around here somewhere.

  “Breakfast!” I call, excited for everyone to join me. The pitter-patter of feet is nearly instantaneous. I catch a glimmer of excitement in Rose’ expression before her face shuts down upon entering the kitchen and finding me there. It m
ust be so strange for her. My heart aches that she is desperate enough to put herself in such an uncomfortable situation.

  “Rose, you can take any seat you would like—“

  “Sit there,” Bentley directs, interrupting me. “Then you will be between me and Tal.”

  I suppress a smile, turning back to fill another cup with water.

  “They live!” Eric teases, walking through the front door, bringing a cold breath of air along with him. “When I left to check the nests, you were all dead to the world.”

  “There wasn’t any sunshine to wake us up,” Tal hedges.

  “I know, it’s fine. I would have woken you had there been more to do. I’ll need your help with the compost rotation this afternoon, though,” he says, hanging his coat on the hooks by the door. A flake of paint flutters to the floor as the fabric brushes the wall.

  Tal and Bentley don’t meet his eyes, surreptitiously glancing at each other while pretending to be focused on dressing their pancakes.

  “What?” Eric asks, noticing their silence, and their heads snap up, innocent expressions plastered on their faces.

  “Huh?” Tal asks.

  “Nothing,” Bentley says concurrently, returning to the task of cutting his pancake with the side of his fork.

  “You know we have knives for that, right?” I ask.

  “This is faster,” he answers, without missing a beat.

  “Guys, do you not want to help this afternoon? I know it’s cold, but—“

  “No, Dad, it’s not that, it’s—“

  “—I invited Tal and Bentley t’come see my home. Whin I go back today. They’re worried they won’t be ‘llowed to go,” Rose pipes in, her cheeks flushing when she realizes that all eyes are on her.

  My eyes widen. That’s the most she’s said since we first found her in the brush. And, why would she invite the boys? I thought taking people home was against the rules.

  “I think we should talk about that,” I say, taking my seat at the table. Eric mirrors me.

  “First, before we eat, gratefuls,” Eric says, nodding to Tal.

  He sighs, lowering the fork that had previously been halfway to his lips back to the plate. “I am grateful that mom finally made something delicious for breakfast.”

  “Tal,” Eric warns.

  “Okay, sorry. I’m grateful for a morning where we got to sleep in and eat delicious food,” he counters.

  “Better. Bent?”

  “I am grateful that I met my first friend.”

  Thinking quickly, I reach for my cup and take a slow drink, attempting to conceal my emotion. On one hand, it’s wonderful that the boys had the chance to connect with a peer. On the other...is it only going to make it worse? Make them less satisfied with just us? A deep, unsettling feeling diffuses through me when I remember that Rose hasn’t told us anything about her home. Except for the fact that she is starving, we don’t know what her situation is. Does she have both parents? Is it only her family? Are they dangerous?

  “Kate?” Eric asks.

  “Hmm?” I answer, disoriented.

  “Your grateful?”

  “Oh, right, sorry. I was just thinking. I’m grateful for food on our table, and enough to share with our neighbor,” I say, smiling at Rose. “Would you like to share anything? It’s okay if you don’t, but I didn’t want to skip you without asking.”

  She shakes her head.

  “Well, I’m grateful for new opportunities. I’m grateful for change, and that I get to grow with the people I love most. Let’s eat,” Eric finishes, and the children dig in appreciatively.

  Not wanting to taint breakfast, I wait to broach the subject of Rose’s return trip until we are cleaning up.

  “So, Rose, would it really be alright for us to come with you? See your home today?”

  She looks at me with shadowed eyes.

  “I think she only wants us to come,” Bentley answers matter-of-factly.

  “Oh. I guess I understand why that would be easier. But, I don’t really feel comfortable sending you without us. Rose,” I say, turning my attention back to her. “Can I ask why you’re so against us coming?”

  “Kate and I were thinking we could bring food with us—to help you get through the next couple of weeks,” Eric contributes.

  Her eyes dart between us. Hopeful? Terrified? I can’t tell.

  “I—don’ want to git my fam’ly in trouble.”

  “Rose, we aren’t going to cause trouble for your family. I’m going to be honest, though. If you aren’t in a safe situation, I will step in. If you are being hurt—“

  “It’s nothin’ like that,” she says, “we take care of each other.”

  “Okay, then.”

  She nods resolutely. “You can come if y’bring the food,” she says, turning on her heel and retreating to the boys’ room.

  “Well that was easier than I thought it was going to be,” Eric says, chuckling.

  After meticulously wrapping our care package in strips of cloth, I bundle it into the top of my pack, supported by the extra hiking supplies below it. All three of the children work to finish the compost with Eric before we head out. Based on Rose’s description of the journey home, we should be able to make it there before sunset as long as we move quickly. It may be too much to ask that the boys don’t dawdle—especially Bentley—but they seem to be especially motivated. I am beside myself that we have been living here for so long without having any inkling that there was another habitation within walking distance. We didn’t specifically have any reason to go far from our home, nor did we think that finding people was a remote possibility, but still.

  Could there be more? The thought stops me in my tracks. Should we consider exploring and mapping more of our surrounding area? I shudder. Even thinking about it makes me nervous. Since I am already anxious trusting the navigational estimates of a child, this might not be the best time to plan other adventures. We can cross that bridge if and when we come to it. Setting my pack down, I pull my coat on and trudge out into the garden to see if I can assist in any way.

  “Perfect timing,” Eric calls. “We just finished.” He leans on his shovel—sweat on his brow despite the chill in the air—and smiles as the children begin heading in the direction of the storage shed, their tools in tow.

  “Couldn’t have planned it better,” I laugh. Then more seriously, “I’d really like to get going so we aren’t pushing it on the way back.”

  “Agreed. Let me just put this away and grab my supplies,” he says, gathering a few pieces of errant plant material and returning them to the pile. Hearing the door slam behind me, I infer that the kids are inside gathering their things, as well. Turning, I follow them back into the house.

  I’m interested to see how they do on this long of a hike. We’ve hiked to our fishing spot, which is basically equivalent to what this one-way distance should be, if Rose’s estimates are correct. They’ll be walking double the distance with the return trip. Rummaging in the gear bin, I throw a few straps into my bag just in case. If Bentley gets tired, I may be able to use these to carry him in a pinch. If Tal gets tired...he’ll be out of luck.

  “We’re ready!” I hear from down the hallway. Walking toward the voice, I find Rose and both boys dressed for the journey, their packs slung over their shoulders. My heart warms at the sight of Rose in one of Tal’s woolen hats. Though she had a jacket on when we found her, the temperature is low enough today that she wouldn’t have been comfortable with only that.

  “Looks like you are,” I concede, smiling. “We’re just waiting for—”

  “Let’s go!” Eric shouts, emerging from the closet, an exuberant expression on his face. I jump at the unexpectedness of his appearance and the kids think this is hysterical.

  “Never mind, looks like we’re not waiting on anything,” I say, smacking Eric as I pass.

  “What?” he asks, grinning broadly.

  With everyone outside, we look to Rose.

  “Lead the way,” Eric sa
ys cheerily. Without a word, she immediately tromps off into the trees, causing us to put forth actual effort to keep her pace. Maybe we won’t have to rush home after all.

  Hours later, Rose stops abruptly in front of us. Standing stock-still, she doesn’t turn to acknowledge us. Approaching her, I gently touch her shoulder.

  “Is everything okay?” I ask softly.

  She nods. “We’re almos’ there,” she mutters matter-of-factly, snapping out of her trance and looking at the ground, her body still rigid.

  Rubbing her arm, I say gently, “Thank you for letting us come.”

  Lifting her head in response to my touch, she seems to steel herself—her hands clenching into fists—and she marches onward resolutely. We follow and, a few moments later, emerge from the brush into a large clearing. On the opposite side, a modest shelter sits near the trees. Much like ours from the looks of it, but in obvious disrepair. My heart sinks. What are we going to do if we find something unsavory here?

  Thankfully, there is no time to ruminate on this thought. As soon as we approach the shelter, children come pouring out of the front door. Though they are all young, the smallest of the bunch seems to be at least seven—based solely on his height. Eight of them? Ten? I can’t get a proper count with them buzzing around us like this. Bentley and Tal’s faces light up. Tal turns to me, questions written all over his face. I shrug, not having any more information or answers than him at this point.

  Rose, after hugging the children, turns to us. “Wait here, I need to do somethin’,” she commands, then swiftly turns on her heel and races toward the steps to the porch, disappearing through the front door. The children follow after her closely—as if tied to their queen bee—and we are left in stunned silence.

  “What...just happened,” Eric asks, and all three of us stare at him with wide eyes. Before we can attempt to discuss it, Rose returns. Behind her, a girl and two boys hesitantly poke their heads through the distressed front door frame. Rose stops, looking back, and motions for them to follow. The girl steps into the light first, which seems to give the boys courage. All three of them linger near the step, and Rose again has to coax them forward.