Back To Our Beginning

by C. L. Scholey

  “My puppy,” Michaela announced.

  Tansy realized how Mike had come to be over in the far corner. She must have woken and spied the pup, thinking the dogs had come to play Michaela must have toddled over to them. She must not have realized she was in danger until the pup’s mother bared her teeth at her.

  Ignoring the child and puppy, Cord began to organize the small group. He encouraged they leave behind anything unnecessary to make room for more meat. They packed quickly, taking only the richest pieces of meat and leaving the lean parts behind. Cord insisted on thick fatty pieces as well, much to Tansy’s distress.

  “You ain’t dieting,” Cord exploded in disgust. He towered over Tansy, hands on hips in his most impressive, ‘listen to me or else’ stance. “You ain’t shopping at the supermarket for the best cuts, honey; you need something that will put meat back on those tiny bones of yours.”

  “You don’t have to yell, I’m not deaf,” Tansy snapped back a little embarrassedly. “And I’m not your honey, smart ass.” She turned on her heel and marched away.

  “You’re right, I should have said vinegar,” Cord yelled after her.

  “By the way, you’re welcome,” Tansy said spinning around to glare at him.

  “For what?”

  “For saving your sorry behind from a polar bear.”

  Cord cringed; he’d been hoping she would forget about that. Worse was the smug look Tansy tossed over her shoulder at him as she once more retreated.

  Randy laughed, looking like he’d bust a gut.

  “Shut up,” Cord snapped and returned to his task of rationing the meat into various backpacks.

  When they were set to leave, Michaela offered up a howl of protest. “My puppy,” she cried pitifully as Tansy hefted her to her hip.

  The pup tugged playfully on Michaela’s snow pants trying to entice the child into more tussling. Cord put his foot down and declared he wasn’t feeding any damned dog. They had enough to worry about. He demanded the pup be left behind, it could chew on the bones and meat they were leaving behind until its pack came back for it. No, Cord didn’t care they killed its father and mother; no, he didn’t care that it was friendly. It was absolutely not coming with them; he wouldn’t allow it.

  They were almost blinded by the brilliant sunlight shining off the snow. Squinting, Cord worried a moment about snow blindness. But it couldn’t be helped, he’d figure out a plan later after they left the wild dogs behind. Thankfully, the sun was melting most of the snow, it’d been a while since all of them had seen real sunlight; it shined so sporadically in the last few months. This was also the first of the real winter storms and they would get worse as the season deepened. Thankfully, it wasn’t bitterly cold to risk frostbite. Still, there was a decided nip to the air.

  * * * *

  Their small group moved steadily. Cord had been afraid the women would slow him down but was surprised when they managed to keep up to the three men. His grudging respect grew as the hike continued and not one of them complained, dragged their feet or whined for him to stop or slow down. Sometimes Tansy carried Michaela, and sometimes the child walked; never once did she ask anyone else to give her a break, except he noticed the other girls took turns carrying the child for short distances.

  Their packs were heavy, loaded with personal items and meat. Cord carried two large extra packs laden with necessary food. He had ignored Shanie’s enraged scowling looks as he had dumped Marge and Chris’ packs onto the ground and rummaged through them for anything useful. He had pocketed Chris’ Swiss army knife and a small sewing kit of Marge’s, along with a small silver whistle, cutlery, two tin plates and two metal cups. He made a point of staring smugly at the young girl, daring her with a warning look to protest. Shanie stayed silent but added it to her list of grievances toward the large man. She knew Chris wouldn’t begrudge her or her family the items but he’d be furious to know they resided within his murderer’s possession.

  It was later on in the afternoon when Cord lifted his hand and told everyone they’d stop and rest for a while; he watched Tansy set Michaela on her feet and the girls wearily let their loads drop to the ground, slumping down beside them. Cord glanced around, taking in the remains of an old farmhouse and debris. Like most places, it had been hit hard. Cord approached Clint and gestured Randy into a consultation. As he approached, Cord raised his hand up and fended off the eager response of the puppy Clint held in his backpack.

  “Put that damned thing down,” Cord yelled.

  Once set free, the puppy bounded to Michaela who frolicked happily with him. At Michaela’s distress back at the basement Clint picked up the pup by the scruff of its neck and plopped him into his pack. He’d seen Tansy’s look of determination and knew she planned on carrying the pup and child if need be along with her own belongings. Tansy argued Michaela had lost so much she needed something to keep her spirits up and if it came to it, the animal could eat Tansy’s share. Realizing it was beyond his control Cord had thrown his hands up in the air and began walking. They’d followed him out and quietly trailed behind.

  “We need to find shelter for the night. It’ll be getting dark soon and we’ll need to collect wood and eat,” Cord said.

  “What do you want us to do?” Clint asked.

  “Keep your eyes open, there’s bound to be somewhere around here we can get out of the cold. As soon as the sun drops so will the temperature.” His eyes rested in disgust on the puppy that knocked Michaela to the ground and was licking her face. “If that damned thing gives her worms, I’ll tell you I told you so.”

  Clint chuckled in response and went over to help the child. He tucked the puppy under one arm and the child under the other, intent on returning them to her mother, but paused as he scanned the area. Tansy was gone. Fear leaped into his chest. Striding toward Emmy, Clint demanded to know where her mother went.

  Offering him an embarrassed look, she stammered, “Well we walked a long way and didn’t take any breaks.”

  It suddenly dawned on him what she meant. He gave the child and pup over to her sister and walked following Tansy’s footsteps in the snow, anxiously scanning the area.

  “You can’t go looking for her,” Shanie said distastefully.

  “It’s too dangerous for her to be out there alone,” Clint defended himself a bit uncomfortably; they were both looking at him like he was a depraved slug.

  As if to prove him right, they heard Tansy scream and a splintering crash sounded followed by a splash. Clint raced in the direction of the scream but stopped short as he came to a hole in the ground. Tansy was floundering, unhurt, in about a foot of water eight feet beneath him.

  “Well, what you doin’ down there?”

  “Checking the foundation,” Tansy sarcastically snapped.

  Tansy had left seeking a few private moments, seeing the old door hatch to a root cellar she couldn’t resist looking to see if she could find more preserves. Seeing the shelves lined with something, her victory yell turned into a surprised scream as the ground caved in and she fell into a pool of icy water. It appeared the steps leading below had also rotted or had been removed as none existed.

  “I wouldn’t buy if I were you, unless you’re looking for water frontage,” Randy quipped. He and Cord had also come running at her scream.

  Randy was rewarded with a small missile that flew from the hole in his direction. Catching it last second he held it up.

  Cord took the glass jar from Randy’s hands and held it up. “These are peaches,” he exclaimed surprised.

  “Well hell, honey, you are smart,” Tansy retorted then tossed another jar at Clint.

  Cord looked down at her. “Better be nice to me, Vinegar. I’m the one with the rope.”

  Thinking for a moment, Tansy replied as sweetly as she could, “Would you care for more peaches?”

  “Well darlin’, that’s real neighborly of you,” Cord replied.

  After Tansy cleaned out the contents of the root cellar, Cord and Clint tossed her
the rope and pulled her up, her teeth were chattering and she was shaking. The water had been frigid, her legs felt numb and Tansy began to worry about hypothermia again. If she had to walk the death march once more, as she’d dubbed their trek, she’d never make it.

  Though melting, the snow was deep. Uphill seemed to be the worst, her legs ached as did her arms and back from carrying Michaela and a heavy pack. Thankfully Randy came to her rescue and suggested they spend the night in an old rock shelter that was half in the ground. Not too deep but dry inside and well protected from the wind with only one entrance.

  The shelter proved big enough to hold them all comfortably and once their fires were going, the small area warmed quickly, especially when Cord found a rotting canvas tarp, obviously the remains of a camping trailer, to hang across the entrance, the ends flapping in a breeze determined to make its way indoors. The sharp intruding wind made the fire crackle and pop.

  Tansy turned Michaela and the puppy over to her sisters’ care and removed her clothing. She had chased the men out, refusing to change until they left. She pulled out clothing from her pack that were stained yet fairly clean and dry, having been rain washed then hung over a fire, and put them on, draping her sodden clothing across a piece of wood.

  She crept as close to the fire as she dared, thinking about the day. For one terrifying second, Tansy thought Cord meant to leave them in the basement, but at Clint’s lopsided grin she relaxed and breathed easier. Tansy’s thoughts of escaping were futile, she was no fool; the terror of facing the wild dogs made her realize just how dire their situation was. Even though it must have been the remains of the polar bear and the trail of blood she left while hauling the bones that attracted the dogs, Tansy knew beyond doubt if the men hadn’t been there with their weapons, they would’ve been killed, and it would’ve been a brutal demise. The dogs would have ripped her and her vulnerable children to shreds.

  The rifle and their meager weapons wouldn’t have sufficed against such an overwhelming attack. With the loss of Marge and Chris they were more vulnerable, and perhaps the men would honor their word not to touch them unless they allowed it. Only time would tell. Tansy looked up surprised as Clint entered the shelter.

  “Don’t you believe in knocking?”

  Clint looked around, pulled open the tarp front and back examining it. “No door,” he finally declared.

  He dragged in a frame of wood he’d made, taking it into a far corner. It was a teepee-like structure and Tansy watched fascinated as he set it up. Using a platform tied to the inside of the teepee Clint placed slices of meat one inch wide and a quarter inch thick; he had cut them to hand length. He placed them on the platform inside the teepee, and started a fire under the platform. When it burned down to embers Clint piled leaves on top that he had found sodden under the tarp Cord found as well as pine boughs. He threw a blanket around the structure leaving the meat to smoke and dry. Tansy was amazed as almost no smoke was visible.

  Tansy looked at him impressed. “You did all that while I was changing?” she asked. She realized immediately the significance. If they could dry most of the meat it would last longer and be easier to carry.

  “We started cuttin’ the strips meanin’ to smoke ’em yesterday but got tired. Then the mutts attacked and well, here we are,” he said shrugging. “The idea is to keep the cloth around the structure tight so we don’t get us smoked out. I can’t leave the meat out; an animal will get it, or the storms. I done this a few times, needed to, we had us some wolves at home. Oh, and here, you can put Mike in this,” he added, tossing a triangular cloth at her.

  Tansy studied it for a moment, instantly realizing she could tie Mike to her body and leave her hands free. It would cut down on her shoulder pain and, if well wrapped, Michaela would stay warmer and sleep in an easier position, stopping her arms and legs from bouncing off Tansy’s body.

  “Thank you, this is wonderful, Clint.”

  Smiling with pride his gift was well received, Clint moved in closer. “I made it big so’s you don’t have to carry her all the time, it can fit me, too.”

  Clint’s blue eyes searched hers for a response; he feared she might reject his offer of help and saddened as she ducked her head to hide her expression. He reached to clasp one of her hands and was startled at her yelp of pain. Holding her firmly, as she tried yanking her hand away, he turned her hand over and expressed shock at the blisters he saw on her palm.

  “Well damn, why didn’t you say somethin’?”

  Clint realized she must have burnt it on the wood when the dogs attacked and never said anything to indicate she was injured.

  “We got busy,” Tansy said. “We needed to keep moving. I’ve been holding snow against it when I wasn’t carrying Michaela.”

  Clint was once more reminded the woman before him wasn’t his Annie. His mind had played with him while he walked; imagining the woman and small child she held trailing him had been his. The thought had been a comfort for a while. Stark reality now gazed at him sadly from brown eyes. His wife would’ve come to him when tired or injured, expecting him to take care of her. Tansy expected nothing from him. She had yet to trust him.

  Clint examined her blistered palm. One of the blisters had broken and Clint realized it must be painful; he went to his pack and returned with two aspirin. Tansy looked at him, eyes wide, but accepted them. Touching her cheek with trepidation, he moved away and left her alone, only to return a short time later with one of his cooking pots filled with snow he placed on rocks over the fire to melt. When boiling, he added the bark of an oak and explained to her when it cooled he would soak her hand in it to soothe her flesh.

  “Where did you learn this?”

  “My granny taught me, she said I was a natural in the woods which was where I belonged since I ain’t so smart at other thin’s,” Clint answered.

  “I think you’re very smart.”

  Clint beamed at her, grateful for her words. Clint applied the mixture to her hand, scooping the cooling water over her raw blisters with care. Everyone began to come inside. The wind was picking up. Over a constructed spit, they took turns turning a large chunk of meat that was cooking and sizzling. Michaela, filthy and smelly, dropped into her mother’s lap, happy to be able to remove her outerwear as the small enclosure was pleasantly warm. The puppy tried to follow suit but Tansy shoved him away, and he was forced to lie beside her hip.

  At dinner, the pup eagerly accepted the tidbits Michaela fed him under the watchful eyes of Cord. When the puppy jumped up onto Michaela to take her food and almost sent her and her mother backwards toward the fire’s flames, Cord yelled at him in a loud angry voice, snatching him by his scruff and tossing him away from the woman and child, frightening the pup so badly he soiled himself. Unfortunately so did Michaela. Tansy squealed in disgust and plopped the child down on the ground in front of her; she stormed outside into the cold night air.

  Once outside, Tansy breathed in controlled breaths trying to rein in her emotions. It had been a long tiring day beginning with her youngest almost being eaten by wild dogs. The long hike followed by a dunk in ice water almost shattered her nerves, and Tansy craved a long hot bath. Looking up at the sky was dismal; there wasn’t a star to be seen. The moon was elusive. She knew she needed to go back in and change Michaela.

  Tansy could hear Michaela’s dying sobs as Clint entertained her and the puppy yipped once then twice. A brief image of Chris and Marge came to mind. She wondered if they’d be angry with her for opting to travel with the men. She shoved their images from her thoughts and remembered Shane. Her husband had implored her to live, to save their children. His last dying request. For him she’d do anything, travel any necessary route. Taking a last deep breath, Tansy turned and pushed the tarp aside. The shorter days were too long and sleep would be welcome.

  * * * *

  Tansy woke to what sounded like a struggle. She sat straight up glancing around. Everyone else seemed to be asleep. Taking a headcount, she noticed Clint was missin
g. Tansy shifted Michaela onto her side and pulled the covers closer around her. She cautiously rose and peered out from behind the tarp. It was daybreak. The men had taken turns sleeping in shifts, keeping watch in case the wild dogs followed; it seemed to be Clint’s turn. Tansy offered to take a turn, Cord honored his word and returned the rifle, but all three men refused her. Clint insisted she needed her sleep, Randy didn’t trust her to stay awake, and she didn’t even want to hazard a guess as to the condescending expression on Cord’s face as he said not one word to her either way.

  As Tansy exited their small sod-like structure, she stopped in stunned surprise. Clint was struggling with what looked to be a bathtub.

  “What are you doing?” Tansy asked. Clint spun around, looked momentarily disappointed then brightened throwing his hands wide.

  “Ta da.”

  Walking toward Clint, Tansy refrained from making any sudden moves, positive he’d lost his mind. Clint was in fact dragging a bathtub. He stopped, stood up, offering her that lopsided grin she was beginning to associate with him assuming he’d been thinking. Not always a good thing.

  “What are you doing?”

  “It’s a bathtub.”

  “I know it’s a bathtub Clint, why are you dragging it?” Tansy asked, only now enunciating her words.

  “I thought you might like a bath,” Clint stated, rolling his eyes as if it was obvious.

  “Teasing isn’t polite,” Tansy told him, she began to return to their shelter.

  “No, wait,” Clint yelled, he jumped for her, missed, and ended up falling into the tub in a heap. Scrambling to get out, he lunged for Tansy but she stopped of her own accord. She looked at the tub, possibilities forming in her mind.

  “We could melt snow,” Tansy said excitedly. “Fill the tub and have a real bath.” She jumped up and down grasping Clint’s hands. Caught up in her excitement Clint hugged her, returning her enthusiasm.