Uncivilized

by Laura Stapleton

  “Oh?” She hoped he’d take her urging to say more.

  “Yeah, we have the worst road ahead of us. Mr. Granville has wanted to get to it as soon as possible so we can take it slower. But not so slow we’re caught in a snowstorm.”

  Ellen nodded. “I understand.” Enough people had been snowed in and barely rescued to tell everyone of the dangers of not taking the mountains seriously.

  Lacy, her future stepmother, fixed breakfast while Ellen folded the bedrolls into seats for everyone. Buster’s was thankfully dry and she thanked heaven for it. She drank her coffee, black to Pa and his fiancée’s sugared, and hurried through eating. “I’ll clean up right quick,” she volunteered and headed to the river with the water jar. Washing everything, including the silt from the jar, she returned with clean dishes and a half-gallon of water for the day. Lucky’s signal sounded and she rushed to put everything away.

  They skirted a rocky and sandy canyon until noon. Ellen despaired of them reaching a new home in only two weeks if this were part of the best roads they’d see. Lunch was eaten next to a tepid and stagnant pond. They continued on until the canyon flattened to nothing. The road seemed so rough that she wondered how anything in their wagon was still in one piece. The hot, dry, and dusty land continued on until they reached the rim of a river canyon. She wasn’t surprised to hear the signal to stop for the night. Standing at the edge of the ravine, she saw a ribbon of water gleamed in the dusk.

  “It’s about a mile and a half away still,” said Sam.

  She turned, glad to see him. “So no traipsing around at night for a little drink?”

  “I’d prefer you didn’t without an escort.”

  Ellen sighed, staring at the western horizon. “Too bad he’s miles from here.”

  Sam grinned. “I’d say so. I’d also say don’t get too used to him being gone.”

  “Oh? Is he nearby? Can I see him?”

  “No, he’s headed home.”

  “I see.” Tears welled up in her eyes. “It sounds like I’m not as married as I thought I was.”

  Sam laughed. “Good thing you love to argue, because he’d rebut that until you gave in.”

  “I don’t love to argue, Mr. Granville. You just make it easy for me to do so.”

  “Uh huh. Be that as it may, I’ve been given instructions to deliver you to him once we reach Oregon City.”

  “What about Pa and the boys?”

  “I think I’m supposed to leave Jack wherever he’d like to be, and your brothers—I don’t know, Ellen.” He sighed. “Your father has chosen Mrs. Benson to be the boys’ mother. Where does that leave you?”

  She smiled. “Wherever I want to be that’s also near Buster and Skeeter.”

  “That’s what I imagined.” He tipped his hat. “Until later, my dear?”

  “Of course.” Ellen watched him walk away and then turned to the glorious sunset. She had a list of chores she needed to do, yet the clouds in the west glowed with oranges, yellows, and reds, compelling her to stay. She enjoyed a couple minutes more of selfishness before going back to camp, her family, and the usual night spent with them.

  Despite Ellen’s rushing around, the morning meal and long drive seemed to last forever. She pushed through, knowing every minute that passed, every step walked was one more closer to reuniting with Del. A few times during the day, she’d get a good look at the De Chute River. The water teased her before the wagon train would turn away to avoid a canyon as it sloped down to the river. The road going south frustrated her. They went ten miles to a flat, grassy valley with a trickle of a creek.

  Time lagged there too, and it seemed to be mid afternoon before the order was given to continue. She double-checked that Buster had stayed dry and then let him run free. Much to her relief, the road angled southwest. With the wind from the northwest, walking behind meant missing most of the dust kicked up by the stock. Ellen smelled the rain only long enough to still be surprised when fat drops began pelting her. They felt more like hailstones than water, and she hurried to her family’s wagon to escape them.

  “There you are!” Pa hollered, giving her a hand up and inside.

  “Thank you. I avoided the dirt but not the shower.”

  “Mr. Lucky came by a moment ago saying we’re staying put until the weather clears,” Lacy said, giving her a dry blanket to wrap up in. “I hope that this won’t last all night.”

  Pa answered for Ellen, saying, “Naw, as fast as this moved in, it’ll be over soon.”

  Thunder shook the canvas top while it rumbled through as if to punctuate Pa’s words. Buster clung to her. The storm’s noise kept any of them from talking much until it was over. Afterward, she stepped out into the sunshine of late afternoon. The world seemed more colorful and freshly washed. Ellen smiled, thinking now was a perfect time to go another ten miles or so. At the signal, wagons resumed their rolling and she saw the men who still had horses ride out in search of missing cattle. Buster came over to her, shivering. “How about I hold you?” He nodded and she ignored his muddy feet to hoist him onto her hip and under the blanket she wore like a cape. Buster soon became dead weight when he overheard other children, slipping down to the ground to go play.

  Lucky gave the signal to stop for the night. Not enough time had passed, in her opinion, for them to get anywhere today. The wagons drew into a semi circle around a dirty pond. Runoff from the rain had filled it full of muddy water, and she dreaded cooking with such muck. Ellen went to their wagon, getting a cheesecloth and their biggest jar. The damp land lacked any sort of decent fuel, giving her time to strain their water instead of looking for firewood.

  “Damn it all! I wanted a decent meal tonight, not some dry beans and water!”

  Pa’s yelling stopped her in her tracks. She needed to help fix something for dinner, but not now. Not in the middle of his temper fit. He had not hit Ellen in front of Mrs. Benson, and she didn’t want to start such an embarrassment now.

  “I don’t care, woman! I’m hungry now!”

  Lacy must have been trying to placate him, judging by their conversation, or rather, his part yelled at the top of his lungs to her quieter tones. Ellen squared her shoulders, preparing to go into battle. He’d not dare hit her before his marriage to Mrs. Benson. Otherwise, he’d scare the woman away and they both knew it. She turned the wagon corner to find him sulking on the lowered tailgate.

  “Ellen, dear, could you talk some sense into your father? He insists on a hot meal tonight and it’s just not possible.”

  “I’m afraid it isn’t,” she agreed. “But we can have a nice breakfast or lunch tomorrow.”

  “Oh? You think so?” Pa gestured, flinging his arms open. “Look around you, dim wit. See anything dry enough to burn? I don’t.”

  “Jack Winslow!”

  He had the grace to look shamefaced at Lacy’s admonishment. “Well, it’s true. Even a fool could see everything’s wet.”

  “Still! For shame.” She patted Ellen’s shoulder. “Thank you, dear, for getting us water.” She ignored Pa’s “Humph,” to continue, “We’ll scrounge around in my wagon. There’s pickles, dried fruits, and we’ll see if the nuts are still good.” Lacy took Pa’s hand. “Come on, Jack, and help me find something for us. We’ll clear a place in the wagon to sleep tonight, high and dry.” She pulled him to her wagon. “Maybe we’ll turn in early too.”

  They soon rustled around, doing what Lacy wanted. Ellen looked at the boys staring at her. “All right, while they’re getting their wagon ready to sleep in, let’s see what we can do about sleeping here for the night.” She hopped up on the tailgate. “Be sure to leave your dirty shoes outside of the wagon.” The boys helped her move things, putting some belongings into her mother’s trunk as much as they could pack in. They spread blankets down and shimmied down to the tailgate for their moccasins.

  “Ellen, dear?”

  She looked back to see Lacy standing there with an armload of clothes and blankets. “Yes, Mrs. Benson?”

  “Cou
ld you please put some of my things in your wagon? Your Pa needs the space, and I know you have room.”

  She bit her lip while searching for more space. The boys and her would already have close quarters tonight. “I will but don’t know if I can find any.”

  Pa stepped into view. “What? We have plenty of area back there. You kids don’t need much. Here.” He hopped up onto the tailgate. “Boys, go on and play. Let the adults work.”

  A flush of pride went through Ellen at being referred to as an adult. “I don’t know how to get any more from what we’ve got without dumping things.”

  “We could get rid of your trunk. It takes up a lot.”

  “No, we can’t Pa, I’m sorry.” Before he could turn on her and start a fight, she added, “It’s the perfect place for Buster to sleep on and I stuffed it full to make more room for everything else.”

  His eyes narrowed. “That’s a good idea. I’ll stack things up on one side so you children have a place to sleep on the wagon bed and we adults have room in our wagon. Get out and let me work.”

  Ellen smiled, though not happy at being demoted in status. She did as he ordered, taking the journal with her to the wagon seat in front. By the time she finished writing the dreary day’s events, Pa and Lacy were done rearranging their belongings. She went around back to see how much sleep area they had. The two had stacked everything up on the right side of the wagon. A few of the heavier items counter balanced on the left. Even with that, she could see how the vehicle listed slightly to the right. “Looks great for tonight.”

  Lacy went to Pa and hugged him. “I think so. Jack did a wonderful job.”

  “I had a good helper, ma’am.”

  The entire mutual admiration conversation irritated Ellen. “Should we be thinking about feeding the boys and staking down the animals for the night?”

  She smiled at Ellen. “Of course, dear. Why don’t you help your father with the oxen and I’ll get supper ready.”

  After a quick nod, Ellen did as the woman asked. Pa didn’t talk to her as they worked. She didn’t offer any conversation, not wanting to start an argument. Too bad Sam wasn’t here. Ellen almost laughed aloud. He’d love her quiet acceptance for a change.

  They ate the pickles and dried fruit for dinner, Lacy having deemed the nuts too rancid. She laughed at Buster’s sour face when he bit into the first pickle. “The first taste is the worst, I promise.” He gave her a dubious stare and then took another bite. “See?”

  Pa ate the last of his fruit. “If you don’t want your dinner, boy, give it to someone else. Don’t waste Mrs. Benson’s food.”

  Buster shook his head and ate the rest of his food. They all washed down the dinner with murky water. The larger grains had settled until the last person, Lacy, needed a drink. “I might just wait until tomorrow.”

  “Ellen, go get Mrs. Benson some fresh water.”

  “Oh, Jack, no. I don’t want to trouble her.”

  “It’s fine, Mrs. Benson. I’d be happy to do it.” She took the jar and hurried to the pond. No one else was there, and the water was still full of silt. She filled their jar and went back to find everyone in their wagons already. Securing the water for the night, Ellen climbed up, jostling Caleb and Skeeter.

  “Sis, watch out!”

  “Sorry. It seems we’re packed in here pretty tight. Buster, sweetie, why don’t you sleep on the trunk?” Ellen took one of the quilts and folded it into a cushion for him. A thin blanket served as his cover. “See? A proper bed just for you.”

  “I want a proper bed for me too,” said Caleb.

  “Sure, I can do that.” Ellen fixed him a bed like Buster’s, only on top of his mother’s belongings. “Skeeter? You too?”

  “Naw, I’m good here on the floor with you.”

  Caleb snickered. “He’s a baby sleeping with his sister.”

  “Am not. There’s not many blankets left is all.”

  “Baby.”

  “It’s ok, Skeeter.” She began folding two of the remaining three blankets. “Here. You can sleep with these and I’ll wrap up in the heaviest one. Everyone gets their own bed.”

  He climbed up to sleep on top of the Winslows’ possessions when Ellen was done. Satisfied he was up there safely, she folded her own bed, leaving a flap open as a cover. Settled in for the night, they laid in bed for a few moments before hearing the wagon next to them squeak. Her eyes opened into the inky blackness as the noise grew louder and more rhythmic. “No!” she whispered when she realized what Pa and Lacy were doing. She could have lived the rest of her life just fine with never hearing such goings on.

  “Sis?”

  “You don’t want to know, Skeeter. I promise I’ll tell you someday, just not right now.”

  The next morning, Ellen lay in her cocoon for a while longer than necessary. Pa would have the fire going, and Lacy would have breakfast ready for a quick bite. With any luck, of course, and she had none. The wood, if there were any, would still be wet and the provisions still low. Oh, and the water still dirty. She closed her eyes and groaned. That was the gild to the lily.

  She sat up when hearing Pa and Lacy hitch up the oxen. “That late already?” she whispered. Ellen scrambled out of the wagon.

  “There you are, lazy bones!” Pa grinned at her. “Up and at ‘em, young lady. This time tomorrow, we’ll be at the Barlow Gate.”

  His good mood bolstered her own until she remembered last night’s shenanigans. No wonder he was so happy. He stood there as if expecting a reply, so she said, “Wonderful!” She’d prefer to focus on getting to the Gate instead of knowing too much about her father’s love life.

  They began rolling at the signal and Ellen got a quick drink from the water jar before dumping out the mud. She carried it for a mile or so before giving up on finding any clear springs between here and the Des Chutes. The early start to the day meant they’d be at the river at noon or so. If not for skipping breakfast and coffee, she’d be happy to run there just to see Del sooner.

  Five miles later and she was worn out just from walking. At a slight pause, she dug in and found a coffee bean to chew on for a while. She tested the toughness and decided holding it like a tobacco chaw might be best for her teeth. The Granville party wound their way down a long hill before reaching the Des Chutes River. Ellen hung back, the boys with her, watching the others cross first. Second to last, the Benson wagon crossed on a makeshift bridge. Ahead of her, the Nelsons, Allens, and Granvilles began climbing up a steeper but smaller hill.

  From where she was, Ellen could hear Pa shouting and hawing at their ox. The wagon would begin rolling then stop as if the animal loathed crossing the bridge. More yelling floated up to them on the wind, along with a few choice words. She covered Buster’s ears and he shrugged out of her hands. They saw Pa hit the ox before hearing the loud crack against the animal’s flesh. By then, the wagon leaped ahead as if by a giant hand, hurtling toward the bridge. It wobbled side to side, listing harder to the right each time. She held her breath as the wagon laid over in agonizing slowness. A scream escaped her as she watched the canvas top collapse in the river, followed by the wagon bed, their ox, and Pa.

  Chapter 11

  Ellen and her brothers watched, frozen, as everything they had in the world floated down the Des Chutes with their father. She heard distant shouts from the others as they realized what had happened, yet she couldn’t move. Winslow and his flotsam drifted downriver until hidden by a bend in the canyon. Only then did a whimper escape her.

  “Sis?” Skeeter tugged on her arm. “Pa?”

  She knew what he couldn’t ask. “I don’t know.” Her eyes filled with tears. “I hope they do find him.”

  He buried his face in her arm and she hugged him. Buster took a cue from his big brother and did the same, hiding his face in her skirts. She wrapped an arm around her younger sibling and picked up Buster to hold. Somehow she noticed Caleb leaving, running to his mother at the top of the hill across the river. When they met, she heard the woman’s sc
reams but not the words.

  A group of men on horseback also disappeared around the bend. She watched a thin cloud rise from their animals’ hooves until the afternoon wind blew the dust away. The boys clung to her so hard she could only debate for a moment on running after the men and her father. “They’ll find him,” she murmured more to herself than her brothers. They had to. Pa was all they had in the world besides their wagon. They needed him.

  “Miss?”

  Ellen woke from her trance like stare at the vanishing point of the river and horizon. Lefty stood at her side. “Yes?”

  “Come along with us. We’ll get you across the river, you and the boys. Mr. Granville and the others will find your Pa.”

  “I don’t know….”

  He took her elbow. “Miss, come along. It might be a while, and you’ll want to stay with the others.”

  She nodded, glad someone could think at a time like this. Ellen gave her brothers a little hug before turning them toward the wagon train. “Let’s go, boys, and see Mrs. Benson and Caleb.” The three of them followed Lefty down the hill. Each one slipped a couple of times on the rocks before catching themselves. The closer they got to the stone bridge, the louder she heard Mrs. Benson’s crying.

  “They have to find him, they have to!” Lacy sagged against Marie. “Please tell me Sam and the others are doing everything they can!”

  Marie patted her back when the woman enveloped her in a bear hug. “Um, of course they are, Mrs. Benson. They’re doing everything possible to retrieve Mr. Winslow.” She glanced up at Ellen and the boys. “They’ll find him. Come on, everyone, and have a seat in the shade while we wait.” Marie quickly pulled down the Granville wagon’s tailgate.

  Lacy was the first to hop on. Caleb shook his head and walked away. Ellen didn’t want to sit but had nothing else to do, so she found a seat and nestled Buster beside her. Skeeter climbed up too and settled in. The three of them watched for signs of the men riding back with their Pa. None of the Winslows made a sound. Ellen kept quiet because she wasn’t sure what to say. Then too, Lacy kept wailing and crying so much, there was no point in even trying to talk.