Dream Of Echoes

by Karen C. Webb

  The Indian boy had started the wagon moving again and I walked with Kate beside it, my hand circling repeatedly across the large lump on the side of my head. Maybe I had a concussion and it was causing hallucinations.

  “Could you tell me today’s date?”

  “November seventh.”

  “And the year?”

  She gave me a strange look. “1847, of course.”

  “1847?”

  “Yes, what year did you think it was?”

  I thought maybe I should change the subject before I scared this poor girl. I felt pretty scared myself about then, like nothing was real. Maybe all of it was a dream, and I would wake up soon in my apartment, with Stacey in bed beside me.

  “You said you might have some clothes I could borrow? These damn rocks are hurting my feet.”

  “Of course, Mr. Baker.” She turned and, before I could say anything else, she picked up her skirt, stepped up onto the tongue of the moving wagon and pulled herself in.

  Jeez, I shook my head and grinned. Tough girl. If she had missed a step, she would have been crushed under the wheel of the wagon. It wasn’t the huge wagons I remembered from pictures in school. This one looked more like an old farm wagon, like folks put in their front yard as an ornament or whatever. Except it was a little bigger and wider and the sides of it were built up higher. The white canvas top also looked newer than the rest of it, as if it had been added at a later time. The front wheels were noticeably smaller than the rear, but I’m sure if she would have fell under one, it would have crushed her.

  She jumped back out just as quickly with a shirt and a pair of boots in her hand. She met my eyes again as she handed them to me. Her eyes still had a shiny, mischievous sparkle to them and a smile played at the corners of her mouth. I stared at her for a minute; I had a strange urge to kiss her. She had such a beautiful little round face, pale skin and a cute upturned nose with freckles on it. It’s a little pixie face, I thought as she stared up at me.

  She looked away finally and started walking again, but I caught her looking back at my naked chest a couple of times. I’m pretty broad across the chest and shoulders, just like my old man was.

  The wagon had never stopped its slow crawl, so I pulled on the shirt and boots as I walked, hopping on first one foot, then the other as I rammed my feet into them.

  Chapter 3

  Kate walked alongside the wagon, peeking back occasionally when she thought the stranger wasn’t looking. She was unaccustomed to seeing a white man without his shirt. She’d never seen her father without a shirt in her life and during her short-lived marriage, her husband had come to her in the dark, fully clothed. This strange young man she’d rescued excited her with his bare chest, his broad, muscled shoulders and arms and his clean-shaven face. Most of the men she knew had long, hairy beards and mustaches, especially on this long journey, where water and time for niceties like a shave were in short supply. Where had this handsome young man come from, that he ended up being pulled from the river and into her wagon? He hadn’t actually said, had he? She looked back again as the stranger hopped along, pulling on her husband’s boots as he walked. He had put the shirt on but hadn’t yet buttoned it and she was intrigued by the bare chest that she could still get a glimpse of. And his disarming smile. It had sent a little thrill through her when he’d smiled at her. It was just a small smile, almost like a knowing smirk, and his eyes had a mischievous light to them. As if he had took one look at her and instantly read her thoughts. She heaved a sigh as she turned away and continued walking beside the noisy, rattling wagon. And yet, something about him had just seemed off. Aside from not explaining to her of how he’d fell in the river and ended up in her wagon, he’d said some pretty strange things when he’d first awakened. Words and sentences she didn’t understand at all. He had even asked her what year it was. How could he not know that?

  Chapter 4

  “You can call me John,” I told her as I caught up to her. The wagon was moving faster now, as the Indian boy hurried to catch up with the other wagons.

  “Okay…John.” She gave me a beautiful smile, it lit up her ice blue eyes and they sparkled like diamonds.

  “How long were you married?” I asked her.

  “One month.”

  “One month?” I was incredulous.

  “Yes, my parents both fell sick of the cholera in Wyoming. My mother passed one day and my father the next.” I could hear the pain and sadness in her voice as she talked. “My father wished that I should marry Mr. Jacob Donovan who was traveling with our train. He didn’t want me left all alone. On his deathbed, he begged me to agree to it.”

  “Did you love him?”

  “I’m sure I would have come to love him in time.” She hung her head, her bonnet hiding her expression. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have told you that. He was a kind man and a devout Christian,” she glanced up at me and I could see the sorrow in her eyes. “It’s just that I didn’t know him all that well.” She looked toward the river as she talked. I couldn’t see her face too well, but her voice trembled a little as she talked. “Now, I’m not sure what I should do,” she went on. “I don’t have relatives in the west. I’ve been told there will be a party of fur traders going back to the states in the spring. I suppose I can travel with them.”

  “Back to the states?” My confused brain was working overtime. History never was my best subject. Then it hit me, some long lost memory of local history. Oregon was only a territory in 1847.

  “Do you have relatives back east?” As if I could help get there. Were trains even been invented yet? Once again, my lack of any real knowledge of history let me down. I had never been good at memorizing names and dates.

  “Only an aging aunt,” she answered. My father’s sister.” She shook her head sadly. “I really can’t afford the journey back to Ohio and I don’t like the thought of burdening my aunt Rose.”

  “There’s got to be something you can do.”

  Before we could finish the conversation, a man on a horse, whom I assumed was the wagon master or whatever they called it, rode back along the wagons, calling a halt for the day. The wagons began pulling off the trail and into a clearing. Kate’s wagon was the last in line and we had been eating quite a bit of dust as we walked. We followed along as the wagons turned into the clearing between the trees and stopped.

  The Indian boys quickly unharnessed the horses and turned them loose. I wanted to be helpful, but I didn’t know shit about harnesses. Some of the other men from the wagon train were walking back toward us, including the wagon boss.

  “Is this the gentleman you rescued from the river?” He asked Kate as he approached.

  “Yes. John Baker, this is our wagon master, Isaiah Thomas.”

  “Pleased to make your acquaintance,” the huge, gruff man extended his hand. I felt like my hand disappeared into his big, hairy paw.

  “Good to meet you,” I mumbled.

  “Mrs. Donovan, can we have a word with you?” He jerked his head toward the other men behind him.

  “If you’ll excuse me, Mr. Baker…I mean John,” she said as she followed the men.

  “Sure, I guess I can help gather firewood.” I had seen women and children scurry about the woods as soon as we stopped, gathering wood for their fires.

  The Indian boys already had a fire going when I returned with more wood. I dropped it down near the fire, then took a seat on the ground. My head still hurt a little from whatever I’d hit it on, and I felt a little dizzy.

  I sat there rubbing the side of my head, the two Indian boys silently staring at me, until Kate returned, looking like she might cry.

  “They want me to leave the wagon train,” she said in despair as she dropped down by the fire, her skirts swooshing around her. “Our oxen died along the trail and they said my horses won’t be able to pull the wagon across the Barlow road.”

  I looked over at the two gaunt horses grazing nearby. Both were bays with black stockings and black manes and tails. They
were the tall, leggy eastern type, but their ribs and hipbones were showing and I had to agree with the men. They would never make it across a hard trail with that heavy wagon.

  “One of the men had a team of oxen that he wanted to trade me, but I can’t do that. Nip and Tuck were raised by my father on our farm back in Ohio. My only other option is to float downriver from The Dalles, but it’s very expensive and I just don’t have the money.”

  I nodded my understanding, not sure what else I could do to help.

  “They said my other option is to return to the mission back east of here.”

  “East of here?” I was trying to think of what could be east of here. Especially in this time zone. Or time warp, whatever I had landed in.

  “Yes. It’s run by a couple called Whitman. We stopped there for a night on the way here. They were wonderful hosts, but Mrs. Whitman was very busy tending the sick immigrants that had come in. I’m sure they will take us in for the winter. They have a house that immigrants use in winter.”

  The name sounded vaguely familiar, but for the life of me I couldn’t remember why.

  “I’m game,” I said, “if you don’t mind me tagging along.”

  “Yes. I could certainly use your help, Mr. Baker.” Her ice-blue eyes met mine and it was like a jolt of electricity; I swear I could see the sparks between us. It was completely unexpected and I sat there dumbfounded, staring at her as she began cooking something over the fire.

  I leaned back on my elbows and watched her as she moved deftly about, cooking and readying her meal. She moved lightly, like a deer, and with a grace that surprised me. She almost seemed to float about the camp, her long skirts swishing around her legs. She seemed almost translucent as I stared at her, an amorphous spirit, gliding through the firelight. I looked away and shook my head, shaking off my romantic notions.

  She shared her supper with me, bread and the meat she had cooked over the fire, I think it was elk or deer.

  She stood up after dinner, took off her bonnet and unpinned her hair. I couldn’t take my eyes off her as long blond waves of hair cascaded down her back. It was a golden blonde and had a bit of a curl to it, and it reached almost to her waist. I noticed even the two Indian boys were staring in awe.

  “I think I’ll turn in, John. You’re welcome to sleep under the wagon, in case it rains. I have some extra blankets you can use.”

  I could only nod like a dazed schoolboy as I followed her to the wagon. She made a pallet for me under the wagon, then she crawled up inside it. I could hear the springs creak as she moved about over me. I lay on my back and stared at the bottom of the wagon as I thought about the tiny, beautiful girl sleeping just above me. It seemed like this young girl had endured some pretty rough times in her life and I felt inexorably drawn to her. I felt a strange male need to help and protect her. And, as I lay there, I wondered how it was I had come to be here. Was it a magic bridge? Or did it have something to do with the time change? I had no idea, and I felt a mixture of excitement at such an unbelievable adventure, but also a fear that I could be stuck here, stuck in a time and place that I knew so little about.

  I dreamed of Kate that night as I slept under her wagon. We were standing together on a steel bridge overlooking a river. It was a little fuzzy in the dream, but I think it was the Columbia River. It wasn’t the same bridge I had jumped from, but it was similar. The Pacific Northwest has a lot of old steel bridges; it could have been anywhere. I could see Kate’s long blond hair blowing in the wind and I could feel the wind against my face. I took her hand in my dream, and together, we jumped off the bridge. I could see her skirts floating around her as we fell and, just before we hit the water…I jerked awake and sat up so quick, I cracked my head on the bottom of the wagon. I was disoriented and it took a moment to remember where I was. The fire had died and the darkness was absolute. I’m talking blackness, like the inside of a cave. Clouds had rolled in; I could just see the moon peeking through. But the stars were completely hidden, blocking any light they might have provided. I rubbed the new lump I’d given myself on the underside of the wagon, then held my hand in front of my face. I could barely make it out, even though it was only about six inches from my eyes. I went camping with my dad and brothers as a kid and I had thought the darkness underneath the huge trees in Washington was pitch black. But I don’t think I’d ever seen anything to compare to this darkness. Not even a distant city to brighten the horizon.

  I finally drifted back into a restless sleep, with a huge rock poking me in the back the rest of the night.

  We watched the wagon train roll out the next morning at dawn, then the Indian boys hitched up the team and we started slowly moving east. When Kate explained her plan to the boys, they refused to go, both of them shaking their heads.

  “No, we no go,” Acoose said.

  “No good,” the other one chimed in, also shaking his head.

  Kate looked near tears again as we walked so I put my arm around her shoulders and squeezed. “It’ll be okay,” I told her. “I’ll go with you.” Truthfully, I didn’t know what else I could do. I didn’t know if I was stuck in this time or what, but it was better to tag along and give her a hand than wander this wilderness alone. And she seemed like she could use a hand as well.

  Kate leaned her head into my shoulder and I felt some better. How could this cute young girl stuck out here on a dusty wagon trail smell so good? She smelled like my blankets back home, after being freshly laundered and hanging out on the line all day. Yep, that’s it. Like the fresh autumn air. I left my arm across her shoulders as we walked beside the slow moving wagon, her small body bumping occasionally against my side. I think it was probably a little forward of me, at least for this time and place, but she didn’t seem to mind.

  “Why don’t the boys want to come with us,” I asked her. So far, they were still driving the wagon, but I could see them up on the seat, their heads close together, whispering.

  “I don’t know,” she sounded so sad, I squeezed her shoulder a little tighter. “They won’t say anything other than ‘bad medicine.’ I have no idea what they mean by that, but you know, their beliefs are quite different than ours.”

  “Yeah, I know. Well, I hope you don’t mind me tagging along?” She looked up at me and smiled. “I would be very grateful for your company, John Baker.”

  I studied the countryside as we walked. I had traveled this same area hundreds of times in my truck, but I couldn’t recognize anything. Even the river itself looked different. Without the dams holding it back, it rolled along at a shallower, steadier pace than I had ever seen it. Usually there were tugboats pushing barges down the middle and freight trains and traffic running alongside. And I seemed to remember more trees along it than what I was seeing now. It was absolutely pristine without all the human intervention that I was used to. A primordial wilderness untouched by man. Not just the river, the whole area was filled with primeval forests and empty hills, with no human influence other than the rocky trail we strode. No houses or towns, no power lines or cell phone towers. I looked across the river to the Washington side. Normally I could see houses and roads zigzagging up the steep, brown hills. Now, I could only see a small group of fat Indian ponies grazing across the hills. There were a few cranes and other water birds standing along the edge of the river, dipping their beaks under occasionally, fishing I assumed. I had never given it much thought before, what this land looked like before white people moved in and brought their progress, but looking at it now, I decided I liked it much better this way.

  Chapter 5

  We must’ve made twelve or more miles that day. My feet and legs felt like it was a hundred miles. And wearing someone else’s boots didn’t help. I couldn’t remember the last time I was this tired. I noticed one of the horses taking stumbling steps, too. I bet his feet hurt as much as mine right now. Kate seemed tireless, and those Indian boys, I bet they could’ve ran a marathon right now, and won it, too.

  We camped that night on a hill that overl
ooked the river and a small Indian village along the banks. I could see the light of their fires beside the river. I wasn’t sure, but I thought we were near the place where I had jumped from the bridge. I wondered if I jumped back in, if I would be instantly transported back home. Of course, that old steel bridge wasn’t here, but maybe that wouldn’t matter. Then I looked at Kate as she sat by the fire. Her face had an orange glow from the flames and the flickering light made her eyes dance. Without the wagon train with us, it was incredibly quiet out here. I leaned back on my hands, away from the light of the fire and looked up at the stars. The sky was literally lit up with stars. Millions upon millions of twinkling lights that seemed to brighten the night. The sky behind the stars had a blackness to it that I’d never seen before. Maybe because there were no cities here or even headlights of a vehicle to brighten the night. The stars stood out against the blackness with a twinkling brilliance unlike any night sky I had ever seen. The absolute quiet and beauty of a place I’d known all my life and never much cared for, made me wonder if I really wanted to go back home. Not to mention the beautiful young girl across the fire from me. I bet she’d never been in a single’s bar in her life. I was tired of the party girls who had no direction in their lives. It figures, I’d had to travel back through time to meet the kind of girl I’d always been looking for. I reminded myself, as I sat there, that I was supposed to be suffering from a broken heart. Then why did all of that seem like something from the distant past? Something I’d already lived through and gotten over?

  We woke at the crack of dawn, I in my bed under the wagon, Kate from her place inside it. It was getting damn chilly at night, but the heavy woolen blanket she’d given me really seemed to hold the body heat in.