My Name Is Mary: A Reincarnation

by S A Ison

  Nose to the ground, the dog zigzagged about the damp earth, sometimes circling back. Henry was afraid the dog was confused and was leading them on a wild goose chase. They pulled up once again, Henry shoving the small shirt beneath the dog’s muzzle. Remounting, they took off again, the dog heading over a rise and down into a small valley. It was a breathtakingly beautiful spot, a small river running through. There was a copse of poplar, hickory and pine on either side of the river. The river was deep in some places while shallow in other areas. The hound had slowed his gait, sniffing madly at the ground. They worked their way up the river, looking for any clue to the whereabouts of Bethy and the boy.

  The sky was darkening still further with angry clouds and heavy drops began to fall, a piercing cold hitting the riders. Mary called out constantly now, dread seeping into every fiber of her body. The temperature had dropped dramatically and now the rain coming down would hinder their progress. Her son had a coat on, but had not worn shoes. Like Mary, he hated the hard leather things and preferred to go barefoot. Mary was sobbing openly now, desperate to find her son in the coming evening. She knew that Bethy didn’t have the strength to carry her son for very long, he was a heavy little boy, indicating he would take his father’s large stature when he reached manhood. Bethy had wasted away to skeletal nothingness, how could she possibly carry her son this far?

  Theo gave a shout, up ahead about midstream, was a body, half submerged in the icy waters of the river. Mary gave a horrified cry, trying to jump from the galloping horse. Henry had to hold her, hanging from the horse, to keep her from breaking her neck. They pulled up near the banks of the river. Though not wide, it was substantially deep. Henry jumped off the horse and went into the frigid water. The water surged up to Henry’s waist as he waded into the freezing water, pushing his way deeper, the water moving around him, from his thighs, then torso.

  He reached the body, pulling its stiff form from the water’s grasp. It was Bethy, her face frozen in fear and pain. She was long dead, the color and blood leached from her face and hands. Looking around him, Henry could see nothing else in the dark water. He carried the half-frozen corpse back to the bank, throwing her to the ground. His face a mask of sorrow, rage and trepidation.

  He and Theo waded back out into the stream, the icy water biting viciously at their flesh. Shudders racked both men as they plunged below the water, trying to find Victor’s small body. They found nothing, Mary almost hysterical on the bank, calling for her lost son. Mary’s voice was harsh and raspy from exertion and shock. Her baby could not be dead, he just couldn’t. Mary refused to even acknowledge the possibility.

  Shaking her head in denial, she refused their sorrowful glances, as both men waded stiffly back to the bank. “Noooooooooo!” Mary shrieked, as her legs gave way, bringing her abruptly to the wet, rain-soaked ground. Her screams spiraled to the heavens, denial ricocheting of the unyielding forest. Henry tried to pick his wife up, but Mary fought him like a woman possessed. She bit and scratched, her howls raising the hairs on Henry’s arms and neck. The hound was howling along with Mary as though to share her grief.

  Mary was mad with anguish; she could not endure the truth that her child was gone. Henry feared that his wife would lose the child she carried should she not calm down. As delicately as he could, Henry hit her across the jaw, knocking his frenzied wife unconscious. He had never struck her before and it nearly undid him to do so now. His heart was breaking with the loss of his child, his heart, his joy. His baby boy.

  Shivering with cold, his body wet to the bone, Henry went to remounted his horse, Theo helping to hoist up the unconscious Mary. Her pregnant bulk was awkward to handle. Theo prepared to mount when the wind shifted and he cocked his head listening. Dark Henry saw the other man’s stillness and turned his head to listen as well. The rain made it difficult to hear anything. It was so faint, like a whisper in a windstorm, but they heard it again. Theo jumped on his horse and plunged into the river, forcing the reluctant horse across.

  Pausing at the other side, Theo cocked his head once more and listened. Moments passed and he kicked his horse into the forest. Dark Henry sat his horse, his wife’s limp body warm against the growing cold. He shivered, his teeth chattering, almost uncontrollably. His eyes darted back and forth, losing sight of Theo. A lifetime had passed when Theo emerged from the forest. Before him was a bundle of shivering humanity, it was Victor. Henry waited impatiently across the stream, his eyes burning with tears. Theo forded the river once more, his strong arm wrapped securely about the boy, the reins wound tightly around his fist.

  Reaching the bank, he pulled up beside Dark Henry. Reaching over, Henry pulled Victor to him, the small shivering boy was almost blue. He opened up Mary’s coat, and placed the boy within. Her body heat would keep him alive, until they could get them both home and warm them up. Without delay, Henry and Theo turned their horses’ home, picking up speed where they could. The hound following behind. Bethy was left at the riverbank, now forgotten.

  It was dark when they returned home, many of the inhabitants waiting up at the main house, lights shinning brightly from within. Tall Tom met them at the porch, pulling Mary and Victor from Henry’s numb hands. Henry dismounted and took Mary back into his arms; she was conscious and shivering. Tall Tom kept Victor and turned and ran into the house. Tall Tom went upstairs, taking the treads two at a time. In Patina’s room was a slipper tub, filled with warm water. Liza had instructed Cookie to bring buckets of hot water to the room, once they found the child, she was sure Victor would be half frozen with cold. Coming into the room, Liza took the unconscious boy from Tom and placed him into the water, clothes and all. He moaned but did not wake up. Liza stripped off the sodden clothing, slinging them to the floor. She added more hot water to the tub, bringing up the temperature slowly.

  Dark Henry and Mary walked into the room, a quilt across their sodden shoulders. Henry’s body trembled, his teeth clacking. Mary was shivering as well, but mostly from fear. She went to the bed on unsteady legs and sat, watching Liza rub Victor’s limbs and talking low to the boy. Theo came into the room as well, he had changed and also sported a quilt. Both men stood silently, watching Liza rub the child’s limbs. She added herbs to the steaming water, infusing the room with a medicinal pong. Henry walked over to the bed and gathered Mary into his arms. He gently patted her face, looking into her frightened eyes.

  “Sorry I had ta hit you. Forgive me? I was scared for the baby.” He said, his large hand going to her belly. Her hand squeezed his and she smiled, her lips trembling. Her golden honey eyes held fear and he hugged her to him. They all watched Liza and Victor. Patina added more hot water, bringing the bathwater up in temperature.

  Mary listened to Liza crooning to her son, and could hear water splashing. She started to get up but Henry held onto her. She assured Henry she that was alright and wanted to go help Liza. Letting Mary up, Henry moved off the bed, helping his wife to find her balance. Mary walked on wobbly legs to the tub that held her child. The color had come back to her son, but his feet looked wrong. Mary feared that her son’s feet would be frost bit. More hot water was added, their hands massaging his small body. Mary placed her hand on her son’s chest, feeling a strong heartbeat. Patina brought in warmed blankets and they pulled Victor from the water and wrapped the small body within their heated depths. Mary lay back down on Patina’s bed, holding Victor close to her.

  Looking about the room, her eyes spotted Ida curled in the corner of the room. She was sound asleep, tears staining her soft cheeks. Henry followed her gaze, and smiled at his daughter. He retrieved her and placed her in the bed with her mother and brother. Cookie walked in with steaming mugs of chicken soup, and handed them to the men to help warm them. Tall Tom brought clothing for Henry and Henry went to another room to change. He came back and saw that Mary had a steaming mug. She smiled up at him and Henry thought he might weep with relief.

  Everyone left the room but Henry, who sat in a chair beside the bed. His large hand
cradled Victor’s small head, his thumb rubbing rhythmically across the tiny brow. He looked into his wife’s beautiful eyes, he apologized once more for striking her.

  “I’m so sorry Mary. I was scared that you might lose the baby. I just couldn’t let that happen. I just didn’t know what else ta do.” He shrugged helplessly; his voice trembled. Mary smiled softly at her husband, her eyes shimmering with tears.

  “It’s alright Henry. If you hadn’t, you’d never have heard Victor.” Her hand covered Henry’s larger, darker hand, the contrast startling. She loved that contrast, loved the dark power in his hands that could move her to ecstasy. She closed her eyes, her body tired from the long day in the saddle. The day had been a nightmare and had drained her of everything. But they were all whole, all safe now. She had her children with her, she had her husband. Her eyes grew heavy and soon she was asleep.

  Henry got up after a while, Mary’s soft snores swirling about their children, like a song. He wanted to take the wet clothing back to the cabin. His body was slowly warming up from the drenching in the cold river. The hot chicken soup had gone a long way to warming his innards. He would come back later to check on them. He also wanted to thank Theo, for had it not been for his sharp hearing, they would have left his son to die in the woods, never knowing he had been alive after all.

  Henry found Theo in the study with his father, who had insisted on being up and around for Christmas. Both men were sipping a mug of mulled cider. They invited Henry to sit and gave him a stein of cider to sip. It made its way soothingly down his body, suffusing him in warmth. The smell of cinnamon enveloped his head, as he took another sip.

  “Thank you, Theo, you saved my son.” Henry said softly. Theo tried to wave off the gratitude, but Henry would have none of it.

  “No, I mean it, you did. You wouldn’t give up. It’s cause you wouldn’t give up that you found my boy.” Henry said, his voice thick with emotion. Theo extended a hand.

  “We have to care for our children. We have to protect them. I know Drake would have been devastated without his best friend.” Theo said softly and squeezed Henry’s large hand.

  “I’ll always remember it and I’ll always be thankful.” Henry said and held the other man’s gaze. Theo cleared his throat and nodded. Henry left the study and went back upstairs to watch over his family.

  Theo watched the big man leave. He was touched to his core. He didn’t know what else he could have done. He knew if their positions were reversed, he would have been mad with grief and fear for Drake. His eyes unconsciously looked for Drake. He understood a father’s love for his son. He watched as the tall man disappeared upstairs to his wife. Theo left the study, in search of his son. It had been a close call that day, it could very well have ended in tragedy, and nearly had but for the chance of the wind changing.

  ELEVEN

  Spring was once again upon them, Mary had delivered a healthy baby boy on the ninth of February, 1866. Victor welcomed his little brother with dubious cheer. Victor had survived the near freezing with little injury. Part of his little toe came off, but otherwise he was hale and hearty. Ida was thrilled about the arrival of her new brother; she begged her mother to let her hold him.

  Ida even insisted on naming the baby, wanting to name him Henry Theodore William John Anderson. Mary and Henry settled on Theodore William. They called him Lil Theo for short, which pleased big Theo very much. Victor hung back and watch all the to do with Lil Theo. Soon his curiosity won out and he was touching the infant with inquisitive fingers and placing kisses on the fragile head.

  Liza took care of the children while everyone was out in the field. Mary went back up to the main house to work and to tend to John. He was dying and hovered between wakefulness and death. Theo was saddened by his father’s impending death, but he knew his father had lived a long life and would soon be with his wife, sons and daughter.

  John Anderson passed quietly in the night, his old body worn from years of hard work and hard times. Victoria was there to meet him, along with his sons and Megan. It was a joyous reunion, and he was young once more, no longer blind. His withered shell left behind, no longer needed, nor wanted.

  Theo laid his father’s body to rest beside his mother and sister. Everyone passed by, throwing clods of earth and flowers into the open grave. It was a day of sadness, but food was plentiful and voices raised to the heavens in joyous praise. Theo held Rachel and Drake ran back and forth, throwing handfuls of dirt into the grave. Victor, not to be out done, also lent his efforts as well.

  As summer waned, Patina and Mary went out to find honey. Patina had a favorite tree that she frequented over the years. Each held a bucket with a gauzy cloth over top, Patina also carried a smoldering pine torch. It was tricky business stealing honey from the ever-watchful bees. It was late afternoon and they bees droned lazily around the drooping flowers. The time was just right for gathering honey. Patina hiked up her skirt and climbed the tree. Mary handed her the smoking torch and Patina held the smoking branch up beneath the hive. She threw the smoking branch down and Mary handed up a bucket. Straddling the large branch, Patina slowly, snaked a hand into the large opening of the hive. Just as slowly, her hand emerged with golden sweet honey and comb. Grinning down at Mary, she put her hand back into the tree. When the bucket was filled, she gingerly handed the bucket down to Mary.

  Taking the second bucket, Patina filled it as well, pausing from time to time to lick her arm. The bees hovered around her but didn’t sting or attack. Mary was amazed by Patina’s ability to rob the bees without being stung. Her mouth watered at the thought of the sweet stuff. She set both buckets with the material covering them on the ground and helped Patina down from the tree. They both licked Patina’s arm, giggling as they cleaned the honey off.

  The women walked back to the farm, chatting along the way. Patina spotted a wild blackberry bush and ran over to it. Pulling up her apron, she started plucking the ripe black berries from the bush. Many of the berries ended up in her mouth. She grinned at Mary; her teeth dark purplish from the juice. Mary laughed and helped pluck the berries from the bush. Laughing and plunging their hands into the bush, they heard the rattling too late. Patina screamed, pulling back her hand, two distinct puncture wounds on her hand. Both women were stunned as they looked down at Patina’s rapidly swelling hand. Hearing the rattling again, both women jumped back, their screams mingling. The horrible realization dawning, that Patina had been bit by a rattler.

  Mary forcefully pulled Patina with her, taking off her scarf as she did so. Both women walked fast, fear skittering across Mary, for Patina’s stride started to waver as Mary tied her scarf above the elbow, unsure of what more to do. They should have known better, snakes often hid in the berry bushes, laying in wait for the foolish rabbits that came to eat. Mary berated herself fiercely, why couldn’t they have just taken the honey home? Mary screamed loudly, calling for help as they made their way to the house. Tall Tom came running and picked Patina up in his arms.

  Rushing up the steps to the porch, Mary called for Liza or Cookie. Seeing Ida, she sent daughter to find her father. Ida was off like a shot, her feet eating up the ground. Cookie came in and saw Patina’s swollen hand and arm.

  “Lawd have mercy child, what has you done?” Cookie shouted; fear shimmered across her face. Tom took Patina to a chair and sat her down. Henry ran into the main house in time to hear Patina’s cry of pain when Cookie touched her hand. Liza came into the house and saw Patina’s swollen and discolored hand. Sucking in her breath, Liza ran back to her cabin, to retrieve her herbs, yelling for Cookie to get a basin of hot water.

  Theo walked into a mad house, children running around crying and the adults shouting. Patina was sitting in a chair, her face un-naturally pale. Rushing to her, he was horrified to see her arm and hand swollen and an angry red and purple. Her breath was coming in short pants, sweat beading on her forehead. Henry had cut a small crisscross on the wound, and sucked out what he could. It had been too long and the poison had
already made its way through Patina’s body.

  Henry lifted the fever ridden woman into his arms and took her up to the master bedroom, Theo behind them. Liza followed, carrying the basin with her. Mary followed, asking Henry to take all the children to the cabin. Near midnight, Patina died, leaving Theo to grieve bitterly. Mary left him holding Patina’s body in his arms, rocking her as he sobbed into her chest. It tore at Mary to see Theo brought so low; she knew that he had loved Patina. Heart sore, she and Liza walked quietly to their cabins, their arms wrapped around each other. So much misery in life, it went hand in hand with the joy. Life was bittersweet at best.

  Henry held his wife in his protective arms as she sobbed wretchedly. Mary was so tenderhearted; Henry was at a loss as to how to sooth her. It had always been so, Mary loved too well, too hard. He kissed her brow, loving her all the more for her kind and gentle nature. He sent up a prayer for his wife and for Theo, he knew Theo was devastated.

  Everyone knew that Theo was deeply in love with Patina, though it was a forbidden love. John had turned a blind eye, loving his grandchildren as much as Theo did. The whole farm population knew of the forbidden love, but held its secret. No one from the outside had known. Now, Theo was devastated and inconsolable, he held Patina’s body in his arms, long into the night.

  The summer waned to autumn, the beautiful foliage brilliant, the air sweet and crisp. Mary stood on the porch, looking to the fields. Several of the families who had left the year before had come back home. They told of the horrendous conditions about the country. They spoke of reconstruction, and they spoke of hooded devil riders. All had gathered round to hear of these demons.