Outside That Door

by Jennifer Robins

  “This is just what I worried about all night. I cannot go without bathing.” She pointed at the men. “Look at them—how gross.” She turned to Carl, “We have to get out of here.”

  “Beth—remember, this is a war. They are not worrying about bathing or clean clothes. I’m sure the most important thing to those men is food, enough equipment and plenty of ammo for the guns—and, I’m sure, staying alive. After that, I can’t imagine them thinking about anything else.” He took her by the hand. “Let’s go. I want to talk to them. Don’t know if they can tell us how to get out of here, but I’ll ask anyway.”

  With the wind coming straight at them, blowing swift and cool as they made their way across the open area to the log building, the smell of the horses struck them square in the face.

  Beth tucked her hands inside her jacket pockets and let out steam from her mouth while they hurried toward the cabin.

  Halfway across the open area, the older Indian woman who had been so kind to them the day before came from her tent and waved to them with a smile, showing off the empty space between her very yellow front teeth. Beth took one hand out from the front of her jacket and waved back, but she was not smiling.

  The curiosity about these two strangers had the men standing in front of the cabin watching them come toward them. Beth was sure they had been informed of strangers wandering into the fort and how odd they were. The men seemed hesitant to greet them, but the old Indian woman came running up. It was obvious how much interest she had in them, and rightfully so—she had never seen a woman like Beth before. Not unless there were others from the future that had been catapulted back to those early years. Beth was sure she was used to women settlers who wore homemade clothes and had rough hands like the men. It was almost comical the way the Indian woman made such a fuss over her, yet a little embarrassing.

  Carl approached the men with his hand out, “I’m Carl Jenkins, and this is my wife, Elizabeth.”

  The soldier in the uniform extended his hand to him but had a watchful eye on every move Carl made.

  “We are hoping you can help us. We are lost in a time other than our own.” He stepped back. “You see, we are from a time in the future, and somehow we were sent back here. I don’t know why; I only know we would like to get back.”

  “How do we know you’re not a spy for the Brits?” The man began to walk around them—eyes scanning as he slowly circled them, his hand up to his unshaven chin. Carl and Beth stood still. “We can’t be too careful around here, you know.” Then he came back front and center to face them once again. “I don’t know anything about this time thing. How could you come here from the future? You will have to talk to the chief. He gets into all this magic and voodoo stuff.” He looked Carl right in the eyes. “If we can’t trust you—if you do anything to make us not trust you—there will be consequences. Do you both understand?”

  “Yes, of course. We don’t expect you to just believe us right off, but we are telling you the truth. We’ve been through a lot, and my wife is having a very hard time with this.” He put his arm up around Beth’s shoulder. “All we want is some help—some shelter, food, and someone we can talk to. There has to be a way for us to go back where we came from.” The soldier made a gesture for them to come inside.

  The men, not all in uniform, stood by the fireplace, along with a tall Indian, all with tin cups in hand. The fire blazed inside the large open stone wall as they gathered there to keep warm. At the long wood table sat several other men, only one in a uniform—some wrapped in a wool blanket, while others wore torn, heavily-soiled shirts and pants. A long rod hung over the top of the fireplace, strung with several pairs of knitted wool socks, drying. Two young Indian girls brought a plate of the flatbread and set it on the table. The long dresses made of animal hide looked like suede and fit them loosely. For early October, the weather had turned colder than usual.

  They were invited to sit at the table. The conversation revolved around supplies, and it didn’t sound good. Carl asked the soldier sitting next to him, “What kind of things will you need?”

  “Just about everything from household needs to guns and ammunition.”

  “Where does it come from?” Carl asked.

  “From many places, but it’s scarce, and what comes in usually goes to the Continental Army. We get what we can. Even the trading posts are in need.”

  These must be patriots, Carl thought as he listened to the man’s tale of woe. “How long ago did you take over this fort?”

  “Just a few weeks ago, and the army helped, along with our friends, these Indians. We lost many of our men, but we pushed the Brits right out of here and sent them north.”

  “I was told about the chief. Do you know anything about him and when he will be here?”

  “He’s a great warrior who has fought with us magnificently. He may be around soon; we never know for sure. Why do you ask?”

  “I would like to speak to him.” Carl reached for the bread on the table.

  “You better get a cup of water or rum to go with the bread; it’s better that way.” Then he laughed along with the others who were listening with great interest, their eyes glued to the strange couple sitting with them.

  Carl looked the situation over and shrugged his shoulders. “I guess you’re right. He then reached for a tin cup at the end of the table alongside a pitcher of what he thought was water. He poured the liquid into the cup and noticed its brown appearance. His nose twitched as he held the cup up to it. “Well, this is something—rum.” He poured the cup half full, not wanting to take too much, knowing how low they were on supplies, and handed it to Beth. Her soft white hands around the handmade vessel brought attention—eyes from all fixed on her wedding ring. She caught the looks and quickly took her left hand down from view, setting it in her lap and only using her right hand which had no glitter for them to gaze upon.

  After they ate, they strolled outside again to see if they could locate the whereabouts of Chief Paul by asking more questions.

  A tall, thin man with a strong build and a smell that would knock your socks off walked up to them. Beth moved slightly behind Carl to avoid the body odor he presented when the wind was blowing their way. The horses also contributed to the aroma surrounding the outside of the cabin as they pranced in their deposits on the ground. A smaller log building to the left held two more soldiers and an Indian, who had nothing on but pants and a poncho. They stood at the open door peering at them as they talked to the interested sergeant.

  “I don’t think it’s best for you two to stay here. There is a settlement not far from here. We can take you there. The folks who live there will put you up until you can figure out what you can do about your situation.” The tall sergeant adjusted the long sword hanging at his side.

  “How far away is this place?” Carl asked.

  “About a day’s ride on horseback.”

  “On horseback?”

  “Of course, how else do you want to travel? I’m sure you don’t want to walk.”

  “Will someone show us the way, and…will you give us the horses?”

  “Yes.” The sergeant pulled a piece of dry beef from his pocket and held it up to inspect. “We will give you horses. I’ll see to it that one of my men escort you.”

  “What about the chief you told us about—will he be here soon or can we expect him some time at this settlement?”

  “That’s hard to tell. We never know when he will come around, but his family’s not far from the settlement, so I suspect he will go by there sometime. Why do you want to see him anyway?”

  “I was given the impression he might be able to help us.” Carl stepped back when the man moved closer. Beth had to move back also and almost backed off the long porch where they stood several feet above the ground.

  The older Indian woman who liked them so much ambled up the stairs to the right of them. She had been standing close by, listening to them talk. Her hand on Beth’s arm got their attention. “Chief Paul will come there—
it’s best for you to go. You will be safer there.” She looked into Beth’s eyes with concern for her and then let her hand drop to her side.

  Carl turned his head to face her and saw the look on her face. He turned back to the sergeant. “That settles it. We’ll go to the settlement. How soon can we leave?”

  “It would be best to leave today before noon. I’ll get things ready for you. Have Hiya here take your wife to her tent to help her get ready. She will need something to cover her legs, those pants she has on will not keep her warm. It’s a long ride, and the air is cool.”

  “We haven’t ridden on horses for a long time. I hope this won’t be something we regret.” Carl was skeptical but agreed with the man.

  Threatened by the thought of venturing out into the wilderness on horseback had Beth clinging to her husband’s jacket. “It’s okay. Go with the Indian woman and don’t be afraid. I’ll help with the horses. Go.” He waved her on.

  Inside the kind woman’s tent, Beth found it to be very neat. A folded, colorful blanket sat on a bed of skins, a wooden box the size of a shoe box next to it. Hiya hurried to the back of the tent to retrieve a pair of pants made of skins with soft fur on one side a smooth surface on the other. She held them up to Beth. “Here, you wear this, it keeps you warm.”

  Beth took the pants in hand and looked them over. They seemed like the right size. “Are these yours?” she asked.

  “No. My small son who is with the moon now.” A sad look came over her face as her eyes filled with tears. “They are yours now, take them.” Beth could only stand there speechless, holding the pants in her hands and staring at the old woman with a feeling of sorrow. Hiya bent down and opened the wooden box. Her old wrinkled hand reached inside to bring out a long brown strand of leather about a half inch thick. An object dangled from it and swung around in a circle as she held it up high above the box. At a closer look, it could be seen the object was a long sharp tooth, maybe from a bear or a large wild cat. She walked up to Beth and lifted the neckpiece up over her head, holding it high in the air.

  Beth reached up and held her hand, “What is this?”

  “Big cat’s tooth. It scares bad spirits away.” She then slipped it down around Beth’s head. Her aged hand then touched Beth’s cheek, padding it gently, and she smiled.

  There was no arguing with the woman. She was set on giving this relic to her no matter what.

  Beth just smiled even though the woman’s breath hit her smack in the face with her being so close, but she saw the need in the woman’s eyes and was tolerant.

  CHAPTER TEN

  With only thin, stretched animal skins on the backs of the horses, they rode out of the fort with an Indian guide leading the way—the start of a long, possibly painful ride. Sunshine heated the progressing morning hours.

  A soft breeze on their faces whipped around them, a blanket of cool, fresh air as they made their way down a widened endless path. Swaying trees tried to hold on to their last few leaves as they bowed with the flow of the wind. Every now and then, a rustling noise in the bush would catch their attention, but the Indian ahead of them took no heed to it.

  Beth bounced up and down as she tried to get with the stride of the horse. Her backside already hurt after only an hour. Carl had no problem so far; he was doing well on the tall tan mustang.

  Single file, with Beth in the middle, they made their way down the sometimes narrow trail, stopping only for a noise the Indian guide would inspect by listening while at a pause. Amazing how well he could detect what they were. Without him speaking a word he held his hand high to let them know they would go on. His long black hair flew back as he stepped up the pace. Beth could hardly hold on, but Carl urged her on from behind. “You can do this, Beth; just hold on tight and keep going.”

  They entered a clearing with a large stone hill with a rounded opening at the bottom. A small American flag held up by a thin pole sat beside it.

  The guide had his horse move closer. Because his English was limited, he motioned with his hand for them to do the same. “Come,” he shouted, waving them on. A cave well known to him opened up to a wide space, inside of which they could stand straight up.

  Except for supplies in wood boxes to the left wall, the cave was deserted. The Indian began to check the contents while his tired companions investigated their surroundings. A large flat stone just inside the entrance provided a place to sit and relax while their well-informed guide took inventory of the boxes. His movement was silent and swift, like a cat surveying the place.

  “I’m so sore from riding.” Beth complained. “A saddle would have been better than just a blanket. It’s like riding bareback.” She shuffled around on the rock as she tried to get comfortable. “I hope it’s not much farther.”

  “Nothing we can do about it, my dear wife. You will have to put up with it. There are no saddles around here.” He took her hand. “They told us it would take the whole day to get there, so we have a ways to go.” He looked up in the sky. “My guess is, it’s somewhere around noon, maybe one o’clock.”

  The wind blew in the cave, making a sound like air traveling through a tunnel. They looked deep into the inside to discover it went back a long way—so far back they could not see the end of the long, black darkness. The Indian, Bear’s Friend, handed them sticks of dry meat and a canteen of rum. It was obvious they were there for a rest and what one could refer to as lunch.

  Beth tried to bite off a piece of the meat, only to find it tough as shoe leather. Bear’s Friend laughed as he watched her struggle with it. He lifted his to his mouth to show her how to chew on it at the side of his mouth, letting his jaws gnaw away at it. Once he had a little in his mouth, he drank some rum to wash it down.

  “At this rate, we’ll all be drunk by the time we get to the settlement,” Carl remarked. “I think this is the way these people get through all of this.”

  A wide grin appeared on Bear’s Friend’s face, letting them know he understood what they said. How much he understood was up for grabs.

  Carl gave him a slight smile as he tried another chew of the tough meat.

  With lunch and the rest period over, they once again were on their way down the never-ending path to a place unknown to them. Beth could not eat much of the meat but had enough rum to make her feel better about her sore bottom, plus it warmed her.

  Approaching some of the cleared areas, they watched buffalo bolt and run from the sight of them, and large black birds hovered over a dead carcass lying on the ground decomposing. At one point they were sure they sighted a black bear at the edge of the woods. The sun had traveled across the sky, heading west for its brilliant sunset. White clouds moved slowly in rhythm with the earth as a soft cool breeze swayed the treetops.

  At least the temperature was not as cold as the day before. The trousers Beth wore and the blanket wrapped around her shoulders kept her warm. She scratched occasionally to ease the itch from the virgin wool against her neck. The cool air didn’t bother the men as much, but for her it was too cold.

  When the path widened, Carl rode up alongside her. “How you doing?” he asked as his head turned toward her.

  “Okay, but what about tonight? We can’t travel in the dark. Where do we stop—sleep—if that’s possible?” She gave him a stern look across her shoulder.

  “I’m sure he,” pointing to the Indian ahead of them, “will have some plans to accommodate us. He’s traveled this route before.”

  “How lovely. I’m happy to know that.” Her sarcasm didn’t go over well with Carl, who dropped back to ride behind her again.

  Back in the thick of the forest, they switched to another path that had obviously been traveled before. The sun now sat on the edge of the horizon; the sky darkened, and Beth became worried. She kept looking back at Carl, who tried to ignore her glances by turning his head to the side as though watching something in the woods. He didn’t have the answers she wanted.

  They came to another clearing, only this time a log cabin stood off to
the side of it. Two horses tied up in front let them know someone was inside. The pintos had Indian blankets over their backs. More Indians, Beth thought as they rode up to the front porch.

  Bear’s Friend got off his horse and waved to them to do the same. His limited English of only a few words had him repeating one of his best, “Come.”

  “Is this where we will be staying?” Beth asked.

  “No—sleep,” Bear’s Friend said in a deep harsh tone, and then he held up a hand in a gesture for them to follow. Carl cleared his throat but said nothing.

  They dismounted, Beth holding tight to Carl’s arm, as they hobbled along behind him to the stairs, Beth massaging her backside. They scanned the area before going through the door to see how quiet and lonely the place was.

  Inside, they were met by an older Indian man who had several feathers in the back of his headband. His hair was grey and fell long in braids extending almost to his waist. His face had wrinkles so deep it looked like they had been carved into his flesh. Dark skin made the whites of his eyes stand out like glowing lights. He held out a worn, shaky hand to Carl, who responded with a friendly shake. Beth stepped back from him. His eyes fell upon her, making her feel uneasy.

  From the table a soldier dressed in uniform stood to greet them. “Welcome,” he held out a hand. “You will be resting here for the night, I take it.” He eyed Beth. “Your wife can have the feather mattress over there.” He pointed to a stuffed blanket in the corner of the room. “And you can stay right at her side. I think that way she’ll be comfortable.” His French accent had a nice ring to it—friendly. He appeared to have been out in the wild by the way his clothes were soiled.

  Other than having four more eyes on them to inspect what they wore and the way they looked, Beth and Carl felt safe there. If nothing else, it gave them shelter and warmth for the night and, at that point, that was as good as it could get. There would be no complaining.