Everything felt uprooted: the antelope, a child laughing, Suzanne standing beside her with lips pursed as tight as machine-stitched seams even while her son giggled. What good were psalms that said God guided everywhere if Mazy couldn't feel him? What good did it do to write praises in her book when beside it she wrote of graves passed and lives changed forever? She had followed Gods plan, and he had promised to take her to pleasant places. She looked around. There was nothing pleasant here.
She was a needle on a compass, just bobbing forward and back, seeking direction. She scanned the low hills, the grasses, the Platte wide and shallow as it headed east toward where they'd come from, through what was familiar. That was it, then, to find direction. Her mother was certainly clear about the importance of such a thing. Jeremy had changed his whole life and then lost it because of his passion for a single thing. Well, she could be determined too. Some would call it obstinate, stubborn, headstrong. Whatever the term, it had served her well once or twice in her life, and Mazy decided it could cut through the haze of her confusion now.
She strode to the back of the wagon, her dress flapping between her legs with the speed and length of her stride. First, she would get their attention. Then she would advocate for a bearing, her bearing. She reached for a heavy kettle tied on the wagons back and, with an iron spoon, began clanging her way through her losses.
11
sustenance
Mazy s clanging on the kettle startled Suzanne, intersecting her sorrow with vibration and sound. Most of the teams, already hitched, shifted with the unexpected noise, their heavy oxen hooves moving from side to side, tails flicking at flies. Wheels groaned forward and Suzanne heard only women's voices talking to animals as they stood by their sides, urging them to stillness The pain of the sounds both pierced and angered.
“Stop that!” Suzanne called from beside her wagon. “You'll cause a stampede.” Both hands cupped over her ears.
“Whoa, whoa,” Naomi said, speaking with words that sounded like chirps. “What are names, Missy Suzie?”
“It's Suzanne. Suzanne, not Suzie.” The clanging stopped.
“You name the oxen as yourself?”
“No. I am Suzanne. No Suzie or Missy Sue.’ Can you remember that?” She sighed. “Bryce named the oxen Breeze and Blow—the lead team. It doesn't matter.”
“That Missy Mazy. Okay I call her Mazy?”
“What's wrong?” Betha asked.
“I'm sorry,” Mazy said. “But I want us to gather. For just a moment.”
“A prayer for our journey would be welcomed.” Sister Esther nodded sagely.
“Can't a meeting wait until evening?” Ruth said. “Better we get rolling. Need to take advantage of this weather and good grass while we can. Chimney Rock.” She nodded to a site across the river. “There marks the beginning of rougher terrain.”
Mazy lowered her voice. “Unless we meet now, I won't be at an evening gathering.”
“What'd she say?” Lura asked Mariah.
“You're not thinking of leaving us?”
“I am thinking, Ruth.” Mazy turned to her. “I'm thinking of what's essential. I have determined something. Some of you might want to determine it too.”
“This really ain't a good time, child,” Elizabeth said. “Not for you or any of us. Not good to be making some rash kind of decision. We just need to keep going.”
“Things have changed, Mother. What kind of reasonable people would we be if we didn't take into account a change in circumstance, look at new information before moving on. If the cows stampeded, we'd stop to collect them after they scattered, we wouldn't just pretend it hadn't happened and try to keep on going.”
“There's been no stampede,” Suzanne said. “I know that much.”
“In a way there has,” Mazy said. “We've all been trampled. But we could be in worse shape.”
“Now what could you be imagining, Mrs. Bacon?” It was Charles Wilson asking.
He'd ridden up on the far side while they'd been yoking. He sat there now, a used ember hanging on, challenging wind, threatening to burst into flame. He wore Tyrell's spurs. Mazy looked to the women instead.
“What's happening, Mama?” Tipton asked. She stuck her head outside of the wagon, her eyes dreamy as though she still slept.
“Mazy wants to discuss something. I don't know. I think we should get moving.”
Tipton sighed. “It's fine with me.”
Mazy thought the girl looked more hollow, wizened than when they'd headed west. Adora, too, had aged since the day she'd appeared in Kanesville full of the delight of catching up with her daughter. They were all changed.
“My head's in a swirl,” Adora said. Her fingers rubbed little circles against her temples
“I'm sure Tipton can settle you, Mother,” Charles said. He spit.
“I say we move on,” Ruth Martin offered. “Seems to me—”
“I agree. You was just trying to buy time, right, child?”
“We have a long distance to make and have not yet encountered the mountains,” Esther said. “But the Lord will see us through.”
“What do you think, Matt?” Lura Schmidtke turned to ask her son who had just ridden up.
“I have a proposal,” Mazy said. She set the kettle down and stepped up into the box of her wagon to give herself additional height. She wanted to see everyone, evaluate their faces and their posture in addition to their words.
She drew deep for the will to make something happen, to be determined. There was a power in that word determined, even a conviction. It overcame the heavy sighs of resignation that formed a carapace of sadness over these people and this place.
“We are now an unlikely group of overlanders,” Mazy began. “Some of us did not want to leave our homes at all. None of us chose this time when disease or accident—chance—permitted some of us to live and some to die. Who knows who'll be ill this evening—or dead by morning? I can't see a way to change that. But there are some things we can control.”
“What's your point?” Suzanne said. She'd lowered Clayton to the ground but kept the rope tied to his middle and to hers. He tugged against her, and she jerked forward slightly as she talked. “Naomi, can you see him? Is he too close to the ox?”
“He fine, Missy Sue—Suzanne I watch him good.”
“This many wagons without a teamster,” Mazy said, “if we have a breakage or if we lose an ox, or you there, Adora, if you should lose a mule, will be disastrous. The single men, Matt and Joe Pepin and Charles, you'll be needed with the stock.” She glanced at Charles when he shot a blast of air through his nose.
“We'll be at Fort Laramie soon,” Sister Esther said.
“And what will that gain us?” Mazy asked.
“The Lord will provide for us there, in ways we have not yet imagined.”
“I'm not prepared to stake my future on that,” Mazy said. “Not anymore. Who're we going to find to help us drive our wagons or stock? The people there, trappers, traders, soldiers? None of them are likely to want to sign on with women.”
“We could join up with some of the groups across the Platte,” Betha said. Her voice was tentative with its little-girl breathy sound “Couldn't we, Ruthie? I see across there. Lots of dust so must be lots of wagons.”
Adora said, “I just want to rest.”
“No matter if we tried to join up with folks even on this side or at Laramie. They'll take one look at us and know that our eleven wagons joining in will put their own at risk.”
“What I'd like is to go back to Jed's grave. I should have marked it like you did Jeremy's, Mazy. And Antone and Hathaway. Theirs are marked,” Betha said.
“Am I allowed to talk?” It was Mariah. Mazy nodded. “Could we just split up? Trail along with one or two groups that might take us in?”
“That presents the same problem, as I see it. Who will want to be saddled with us?” Mazy said. “Wagons without teamsters.”
“You're acting like we're…lepers or something,” Ruth
said, her words sharp.
“Join up,” Suzanne said. “We're all cripples, with no guide, no leader”
“I am no kind of cripple,” Ruth said. “We're capable, all of us, just been given a hot pan to hold with the deaths. It'll cool. We just need to head west. Quit jawing about it.”
“People get blinded in all kinds of ways,” Suzanne told her.
“Death confuses,” Ruth responded. “We should go forward, stay our course. I've driven this far alone. If I can, the rest of you women can.”
“But this is the easiest part,” Lura said. “I know I shouldn't be speaking; I didn't ask permission. But I remember Antone said that. He said, ‘Mama, once we pass Laramie, the hills get higher and the moun-tains're bad. We got to stick together, yah, that's the answer. Need all hands then and a good captain
“So that's a yes?” Ruth snapped.
“Well, yes, I think its a yes to stay together,” Lura said. “Or maybe a no, to going on.”
“I do believe Lura has made good points about the rigors of continuing,” Esther said. “But what are you actually suggesting, Mazy?”
Mazy took a deep breath. “I'm determined to go home.”
There. She'd said it and the world had not stopped turning, but her compass needle had.
“I never wanted to be here,” Mazy continued. “I want to go back to Wisconsin, to what's familiar, to what I know. It's what I want my child to know, the things I knew first, the breeze off the bluffs.”
“You learned that later, Mazy,” Elizabeth reminded her. Mazy scowled at her. “Just want to keep this discussion honest. You met those bluffs after you stepped out in a new life with your husband. This is a new life he wanted for you too. And another waits in Oregon.”
“But it won't be his life, will it, Mother? And it won't be one I chose. He won't be there to bring me to it So I've got to tend to my own life, my own way. I never wanted to be here. I have a choice now, and I'm going to make it for me and my child. You can come along, or you can head on and hope someone takes pity on you and helps you through. Me, I'm going home.”
Mazy heard her own heart beat with the sureness of what she wanted She wondered if she would turn back all alone if no one chose to go back with her. Well, she decided, she could. Silence cloaked the group.
“I don't have much say in all of this,” Suzanne said, breaking the silence first. “But if you want to know about being trapped where you don't want to be, ask me. No wolverine caught could feel more violated for all the good it does her. So I guess I need to ask you, Naomi, since you're doing the driving of my oxen. Which way are you heading? East or west?”
“She'll go where I decide,” Sister Esther said.
Naomi continued to rub at the big ox's shoulder, calming the animal as she did. She talked low to Breeze, scratching the animal behind his ears, avoiding the long horns that extended out toward the sides. Mazy watched her. She seemed disinterested in the conversation, so Mazy found herself surprised with the girl's insightful response. “Plants grow best in same soil. Grow close, offer—safe house—from winds. They are of same place, grow best not alone.”
“Trees seldom grow alone,” Elizabeth said.
“Meaning?” Suzanne said
“Whatever we do, we should do it as one,” Betha said.
“All together, in one place,” Mazy said. “Exactly.”
“But we have obligations,” Sister Esther protested. “People waiting for us in California.”
“What's the likelihood you'll be able to deliver?” Mazy said. “You'd be better off to turn back, find new drivers or bull-whackers and start again next year. You have three other lives you're responsible for, and even with two men, you were taking a chance going overland.”
Sister Esther sank to the chair she had not yet loaded back onto her wagon. “But to have come so far already and turn back.
“There is strength together, Missy Esther,” Deborah said, patting the woman's bony shoulder. “The bees make way. Know duty.”
“To take care of the queen, isn't it?” Charles said.
It startled Mazy to hear him enter this women's circle.
“A group of drones looking after a queen,” Charles continued. “Fortunately, Mrs. Bacon has excluded the men from this discussion. But then, I wasn't planning to be in one place with any of you for long.”
“Charles!” Adora gasped. “What are you thinking of? You've got to drive us, me! You can't leave us!”
“I've got to do nothing, woman Mrs. Bacon's right on that one thing: It's a choice. You made yours when you made Father follow Tipton. See what it got him? I'm sure you two'll do well together as you always have. If I were you, I'd head back. They know you there, and someone's likely to take pity on you until you can find a suitable benefactor for dear Tipton.”
He finished his speech and slipped inside the wagon. Adora stood, her mouth open. When he stepped back out and onto his horse, she grabbed at his gartered sleeve He leaned across her, as though to snap at Tipton inside the wagon. “What've you got in your vest?” Adora asked, reaching to touch his pocket.
“None of your business,” he said, grabbing her wrist, tossing it back to her hard enough to make her stumble.
“Charles!” Mazy said, “Your own mother—-”
“Can take care of herself.” He jerked the reins, and the horse stepped back, twisting. He gouged the animal with the sunburst spurs, the horse barely missing Adora as man and animal shot past.
“Mama?” Tipton stuck her head out of the wagon back.
“He's leaving us ” Adora chewed her lower lip, rubbed at her temples.
“But, Charles, we're your family,” Tipton said, her words slurred.
Charles pulled the reins and turned back. “You never gave me anything I'd want to claim as mine.”
“Just Papa's good money,” Tipton said, cutting through her fog. “You'd take that with no hard feelings.”
The vein in Charles's neck became suddenly thick and pulsating. His hazel eyes hardened to ice. “I earned every eagle putting up with you, sister,” he said “I've paid my dues Paid them well and with interest ”. He started to turn his mount “Something more you should know before you get too high on your horse, little sister.” Spittle gathered at his mouth again. “Your intended had other plans than marrying you. He told me so the day he died. Said he'd had enough with sniveling females and that he was glad as glad could be he'd be heading north to Oregon while all the Wilson clan went south.”
“That's not true,” she gasped. “He would have told me if he'd changed his mind.”
“Why tell you?” Charles said. “He didn't have to. Once we hit Casper country, you'd be out of sight, out of mind. Just as you are now for him. Just as you're going to be for me.”
He pressed the reins to the horse's neck then and gave the animal a sharp kick with Tyrell's spurs that sent it into a trot.
Birds twittered into the silence. Tipton looked as though she'd just awoken, her hair and clothes disheveled, like someone drifting into distance.
Grief is as singukr as a snowflake, Mazy thought, and just as algid
“I think Mazy's right, Ruthie ” They all turned at once to Betha. “I know this'll be hard for you to hear, dear, but I want to go back to Jed's grave. Couldn't we? I could decide better about what to do there, I could Talk it over with him. You could go on without me.”
Ruth stared at her.
“Well, I don't suppose you could.” Betha looked away. “I need to go back, though. I do. Go with me. Please.”
“Esther, do you wish to do the same? We could pray again over Harold's grave. And Cynthia's,” Mazy said.
The woman nodded. “Just for a short good-bye.”
Ruth sighed, resigned. “How about if Matt and Joe take the cattle and the horses on, pack some of my grain. They'd find better grazing west without us. The rest of you could head west while I take Betha back Collect ourselves.”
“We all stick together,” Adora said. “I can't imagine
going on without you and Mazy both.”
“For the children's sake. I just want to take a little time to mourn at the grave,” Betha said.
“Matt?” Lura asked her son. “What s your pleasure?”
“I been thinking while you all been talking, that we should do that. Take your cow brute too, if you want, Mrs. Bacon. Meet up at Laramie or keep going. Applegate s route goes south, then on into Oregon on the California Pack Trail. If we drive your horses north there, Miss Martin, you wont have to worry over the Columbia River crossing.”
“Oh, well be caught up with you long before then,” Ruth said. “You want your brute to go, Mazy?”
Mazy didn t want that; but if it meant the others would turn back with her, it would be worth the loss of the brute. What did she care about it anyway? She had the cows. And if they turned back all together, if only on the pretense of stopping a day or two at the graves, it would be worth it Turning around was the hard part. Longing for home would keep them facing east.
“Take the brute,” Mazy said. “We'll go back, rest at the graves.”
“Yes, rest,” Lura said “That sounds so good.”
“I go back with Missy Esther,” Naomi said. “Take Missy Sue— Suzanne.”
“And you…others traveling with Sister Esther?” Mazy realized she did not know one of them, had only heard Naomi's name because Suzanne used it.
“They'll do as I bid them,” Sister Esther.
Mazy didn't think Esther noticed the looks the Asian girls exchanged.
“To get our rhythm and rest ourselves is a good idea,” Elizabeth said. “Practice helping each other through.”
Mazy didn't know when she'd been more grateful to her mother.
A silence followed, broken when Mazy said, “It's decided, then. We turn east. All together.”
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