Back To Our Beginning

by C. L. Scholey

  Tansy couldn’t figure out about something called tubers or lichens, but was aware of fiddleheads. They usually appeared in her grocery store in spring, and were delicious steamed. She was positive she’d be able to identify them when the time came. She was surprised to learn tree fungus wasn’t just something fun and interesting to write on with the children during a nature outing, you could eat some types.

  So engrossed in her book, she didn’t hear Clint come in and jumped to her feet in surprise when he dropped the large dead duck before her.

  “The triumphant hunter returns. Nice toy.” He handed her the bola.

  “It’s not a toy,” she reprimanded putting the weapon aside. She stooped down and scooped up the heavy duck, holding it high on the neck, her mind was working on the uses of the feathers. “Bet if we caught enough of these we could make pillows.”

  Clint took the duck outside to clean with Tansy bellowing after him to save the feathers. He chuckled, thinking only a woman would worry about a feather pillow, especially since she didn’t have a bed. Clint started thinking. He could make her a bed. If he went hunting and got a big animal he could make her a big bed. As the idea grew in his mind, it unfortunately expanded to his groin.

  “Damn,” he muttered, becoming uncomfortable. But if he could just figure out how to get an animal skin for a bed he might figure out how to get Tansy into bed. He couldn’t buy her flowers or candy; he couldn’t take her to a movie or for a long drive. Giving himself a headache, Clint’s last thoughts were of how a Neanderthal had gotten laid.

  “Damn,” he swore again. Shaking his head he was damned surprised they hadn’t become extinct sooner.

  * * * *

  “Are you sure?” Ethan asked Aidan.

  “Positive.”

  “How many?”

  “Five,” Aidan answered. He was crouched low to the ground examining the footprints. Aidan stood up and watched Ethan’s excited expression turn pensive.

  “That many?”

  When they first found the footprints Ethan had been excited to learn other people were alive. They’d been walking, searching, for some time. It had been a relief when the bodies began to thin out in the less-populated area. But five was a bit much. There were only three of them and one was only a small boy. Ricky was completely defenseless; thin and tired from their long travels. The death of his mother had regressed his emotions.

  They couldn’t hope to defend themselves against five people if they turned out to be dangerous, which was a definite possibility, some of the bodies they found had been people who weren’t killed by storms or starvation. What if they hurt his son? Or killed Ethan and Aidan and left Ricky alone to fend for himself? The child would never survive alone; Ethan doubted he himself would be able to in this new barbaric world.

  Aidan knew that look of apprehension on Ethan’s face and placed a comforting hand on his friend’s shoulder for reassurance. They’d grown close, sharing their fears and hopes, or if they thought the world might end tomorrow. They watched over Ricky like over-protective bears. Aidan had been teaching them how to live off the land, how to survive in case he was injured or killed.

  “Don’t worry, my friend. Only one is a man. A big man, but I can’t see him giving both of us trouble.”

  “Four women?”

  “Maybe. Some could be boys. One isn’t more than a baby really, which is surprising. But by their shoe sizes and weight imprint they are either females or boys.”

  Ethan’s heart lightened. Other boys would give Ricky someone to play with, or girls might give him someone to connect with once he grew older. It would be nice regardless to hear a female voice. Sarah hadn’t been gone long, but the loneliness of female companionship had lain heavily with him. Ethan wondered if Ricky would ever have the chance to have a family of his own. But if he did, what kind of a world was this? It was as though they’d been thrown back into the past. Back to living like cavemen, worse than cavemen. Having not to relearn but learn in general how to survive from scratch with what was available around them, with weather he doubted cavemen needed to endure even at its most volatile state.

  They didn’t know if other countries still operated, if some sense of sanity had been spared somewhere, anywhere. Everywhere they wandered, telephone poles were uprooted, hydro nonexistent, cell phones, regular phones, computers were inoperable. There was no hope contacting other countries or provinces. Those who survived on solar energy couldn’t save their windmills from the devastation. The few vehicles spared from the wrath of the storms ran out of gas and no more was to be had. Because of the debris, they were unable to travel any great distances in vehicles of any kind but the warmth they offered proved invaluable, especially when in an underground parking lot.

  As Aidan expected they had come across the remains of survivors; he assumed at least some would have found shelter even if the storms had struck quickly. Those few able to find shelter starved, froze, or died of contaminated water. Aidan was skilled in reading the signs around him and at each discovery informed Ethan of the circumstances then elaborated on ways they could have saved themselves so Ethan would never be caught unawares if finding himself and Ricky in the same situation.

  With gruesome understanding they could see where families had taken their own lives in desperation or despair. Others were murdered over what little supplies they had salvaged.

  “Listen, we better be careful just the same,” Aidan cautioned. “We better do some surveillance, search them out and get our bearings. After all we know they exist, but they haven’t got a clue about us.”

  Nodding his agreement, Ethan and Aidan began devising a plan.

  * * * *

  Morning came and with it sunshine, not overcast or wannabe sunshine, as Clint called it, but honest to goodness sunshine. The kind people whistled to, sang about, or hunted in. Clint was off early that morning, one thought...perhaps two, on his mind. He wanted a large game animal. Feeling a predator, he grabbed up a bow and arrow he had worked on during his watch. He used twine from a bale of straw and a bowed birch, he sharpened the end of a number of straight sticks. Using thin strands from his worn shoelace, he tied feathers from the duck for balance at the opposite ends and used more twine to tie them together for easier traveling.

  Seeing the determination in his eyes, Tansy stood back and watched him leave. She wasn’t his babysitter and she knew he was a different man when in his element. But that didn’t stop Tansy from putting Emmy in charge of Michaela while she and Shanie went out do some hunting of their own.

  After making their way to the ice-covered lake, one of many small ones in the vicinity, Tansy and Shanie continued to trudge through the snow. They came upon a cabin that was still standing and explored it cautiously. It was immaculate inside. In one of the bedrooms lay an elderly couple; it was apparent they froze to death. They held one another closely in their eternal demise, their frozen faces serene, cheek to cheek, captured love in endless time. Tansy and Shanie offered a few small words remembered from the Bible and thoughts from the heart, heads bowed in deference to the solemnness of the occasion. They left the homemade quilt protecting the couple’s bodies alone, unwilling to disturb their slumber. Then their search began in earnest; it was now time for the living.

  They concluded though there was no root cellar, their search wasn’t in vain. Tansy grabbed two large garbage bags found under a cupboard and they proceeded to sack the cabin. Although the cupboards were bare of food, they pulled a large decorative bearskin from the living room wall, found linens and a few various-sized towels on the bathroom shelves folded neatly. They gathered up soaps, pots, pans and a few filled kerosene lanterns.

  Within a small knitting basket Tansy found a crochet hook and pocketed it. She grabbed as many of the small empty plastic grocery bags she was able to fit or stuff on her person from the kitchen, tucking her pant leg into her sock and filling her pant legs as full as she dared. She remembered seeing Emmy crocheting strips of the bags together for the homeless. A num
ber of the students had done this as a regular project. When crocheted, the plastic was an added barrier between the frozen ground and a warm body. She made a mental note to remember to search for more plastic when the opportunity presented itself.

  Though no medicines were anywhere to be found, Tansy located a half open box of bandages, gauze, tweezers. In the kitchen cupboards she found bowls and plates, matches and a variety of novelty candles depicting the holidays.

  They stuffed items into the garbage bags and their pockets until they bulged, carried what blankets they could wrapped over their shoulders. Layers of new, though used, warm gloves covered their hands as well as many warm hats piled onto their heads with knitted scarves and socks on their feet, leaving the old tattered ones behind. Shanie had happily been able to cram her small feet into the elderly woman’s calf-high boots, while also adorning the woman’s thick floor length fur coat over her threadbare jacket.

  The last item Tansy found was an old porcelain doll sequestered within an antique glass hutch. It was remarkable. When the head turned it showed a sleeping baby, turned again a smiling baby, and lastly turned it sported a sobbing baby, while concealing the other faces neatly under a bonnet eluding detection. She handled it carefully and decided it was going to go back with her to Michaela; she didn’t think the elderly woman would have minded.

  Clutching the doll protectively and wearing layers of some clean used clothes they found smelling of mothballs, laden with their heavy loads, they left to make their way back to the mine.

  * * * *

  “How do we do this?” Ethan asked, jittery with excitement. He and Aidan were hiding outside the mine, watching the young tiny woman. She traveled to and from the mine carrying sticks; at one time, they noted she filled a pot with snow to take back in.

  The two men saw a petite toddler trailing after the woman. Ethan smiled at seeing the little one, remembering when his son had been that young. Thinking of Ricky, he hoped his son would stay put until they came for him. The boy was adventurous and wanted to come and see the new people, but had been warned sternly they could be dangerous. They left Ricky in a basement still covered by half of a dilapidated home. It was dingy and damp, yet as safe as anywhere else, Ethan speculated.

  Ethan opted for the relative security of a fire lit hole in the ground to the uncertainty of the new people. They had been surprised when they reached the mine, finding only a woman and child left unsupervised. Ethan wondered if the man had taken two boys to hunt with, leaving their vulnerable females by the relative safety and warmth of the fires. He surmised that made the most sense. It would’ve been next to impossible to hunt with the small child and perhaps even dangerous for her. Both females were small enough to be prey. The man would have been too concerned with their safety to be able to concentrate on the prospect of securing large game.

  “Mike, no.”

  They heard the young woman call. Ethan did a double take on the toddler, he had been certain it was a girl. The child was wandering in their direction and it was obvious the woman, perhaps her mother, watched her closely. The child approached until, unable to resist, Ethan stepped forward from the brush. The girl, at close range even through the dirty clothes Ethan was positive, stood wide-eyed looking up at him. The woman who’d been trailing after the child stopped short. Ethan took in her diminutive features, like the small child. She was a beautiful young woman even though covered in dirt, and her eyes gazed up at him just as wide and as fearfully as the toddler.

  When Aidan also stepped forward she screamed, grabbed the child and raced frantically for the mine.

  “No, wait!” Ethan called, now in hot pursuit. She couldn’t escape from them. He was too excited to finally be seeing another live soul, and a female one at that, to let her get away.

  The men ran as quickly as they could, impeded by slippery logs and icy snow. Both Ethan and Aidan arrived together at the entrance of the mine just a heartbeat or two after the wildly fleeing woman, her fear seemed to give her feet wings. Aidan howled in pain and jumped back as a hard flung rock hit him soundly in the chest. Ethan dodged just in time avoiding Aidan’s fate.

  “Go away,” she screamed.

  The child added her own howls. The men backed away as two more hard flung stones were thrown at them.

  “Shit, she’s got a good arm,” Aidan complained, rubbing his chest.

  Ethan and he were crowded closely together at the entrance of the mine, but back behind its opening. Feeling desperate, Ethan called out to the woman, “We’re not going to hurt you, sweetheart. I promise.”

  That was met by the shattering of a large stick near their hiding place and an explosive expletive.

  “Good lungs too,” Aidan said.

  The continued pitiful cries of the little girl inside tugged at Ethan’s heartstrings. Taking a chance, Ethan walked arms outstretched into the mine opening, depending on a woman’s sense of compassion, understanding, her need to help not hurt. Aidan grabbed him back before he was beamed by a pot of snow.

  “Are you nuts?”

  “It’s just one tiny little woman and a small child.”

  “That one tiny little woman has got murder on her mind, and you and I are the intended victims.”

  “We should have come when they were here together, even the man. I feel like a heel, we’re frightening the poor little thing. We’re both more than twice her size, we both look a sorry mess. She must be terrified for the little one, envisioning all sorts of awful scenarios.” Ethan yelled to the woman they were leaving, they were sorry they’d frightened her.

  Ethan turned to go but stopped at a terrifying sight. Ricky hadn’t listened; he must’ve followed them unaware. A large man stood with his son off to the other side of the mine, out in the open. The man had one hand tangled in the back of Ricky’s tattered hoodless jacket; his son was two feet off the ground. The man looked beyond furious, he looked deadly.

  * * * *

  Clint had come across the boy by accident, as the child was crouching, spying near the mine. The boy stood slowly when confronted with the strange man. He had looked up at Clint, way up, with huge wide wary eyes, unable to utter a single sound in response to his numerous questions, paralyzed with his fear. Frustrated by the child’s obvious frightened silence, Clint decided to bring him back to Tansy then he heard Emmy’s scream.

  He grabbed the child, tucking him securely under an arm, and raced for the mine. Finding the men at the mine antagonizing Emmy and Mike, Clint had become enraged. He knew the boy must belong to one of these men. If they’d hurt any one of his girls he would kill them. The boy cried out to his father, his arms pitifully reaching for him as they drew closer. The big black-haired man produced a large hunting knife, but Clint was faster. His knife already lay at the boy’s throat, silencing him. Clint had no desire to harm the child, but he needed these men to back away, he wouldn’t lose another family; he would not.

  “Wait, please, he’s only a frightened little boy,” the blond-haired man begged.

  Clint saw the resemblance between the man and child, Clint could see the terror on his father’s face. Clint carried the boy easily off his feet and ignored his pitiful whimpering while making his way to the front of the mine.

  “Clint,” Emmy cried. She started for him but he motioned her back.

  “You okay?” Clint asked, relieved to see she appeared unharmed. “Did they hurt you?”

  “No. Mike and I are alright.”

  “Where’s your mother?” Clint asked; his gaze locked with that of the dark-haired man.

  “Shanie and she went looking for food.”

  Thank God, thought Clint. The boy was the only hostage, he was in charge. Clint lowered the boy to his shaky feet, removing the knife from the child’s throat. The tousle-headed child looked up at him, tears streaming down his pale face. His breath came in labored gasps. His small body trembled in terror as his little chest heaved in and out. A loud whimper escaped his quivering lips.

  “Aw, don’t cry.”
Clint heard from behind.

  Michaela had crawled out of her hiding place, now that her hero had arrived. With Clint, there she knew she had nothing to fear. She toddled over to Ricky and placed her hand in his. Smiling up at him she tried to encourage him to play, but noticed Clint’s large hand locked onto his clothing.

  “Let go, Clint, he’s my new best friend,” Michaela declared. She tugged harder at the boy and when Clint still didn’t release him she howled to Emmy in outrage, “Emmy, Clint’s bein’ mean to me.”

  Frustrated, Clint looked at Michaela’s outraged face and to that of the terrified little boy. The boy whimpered up at him, his tears flowing like an un-dammed river onto his pale face from hazel eyes. Feeling a wave of pity wash over him, he released the child, who went flying forward. He grabbed up Michaela who protested. Clint felt Emmy at his side; she moved closer for his protection. She leaned heavily against him, her small hand grasping at his arm, partially hidden behind him, her head not even nearing his broad shoulder. Clint could feel her tremors and he scowled at the men, angry for causing her such distress.

  “Maybe you best state your business.”

  Ethan, who was clutching his terrified son to his chest, turned vicious eyes on him. “Damn you for frightening him.”

  “I didn’t hurt him none. I thought he was alone, seein’ as though he had been left all alone,” Clint said, emphasizing his last words, angry at the men for frightening his own.

  Ethan cringed at that, they had left Ricky all alone, but thought it would be in his best interest.

  “I don’t leave mine all alone,” Clint said in warning. “I’m always close by.”