Back To Our Beginning (17 page)

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 missing. 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.

“Well now, aren’t we getting friendly,” came a long drawled voice. The two stepped away from each other as Cord came closer, looking down at the tub. “To big to be a porta potty.”

Tansy stood in front of the object, arms outstretched as if to protect it with her life.

“Don’t you dare. We’re all going to bathe. You too, you smell like an outhouse.”

“Well you smell like the manure roses are grown in,” Cord stated. At Tansy’s laugh, his eyebrows rose.

“I do, I know I do,” Tansy agreed enthusiastically. “Well, don’t just stand there stinking, help us.”

At Tansy’s urging, the bathtub was dragged inside to a far corner. Their built up fires blazed brighter and warmer, with another added in close proximity to the tub, to protect them from becoming chilled both during their bath and after in the drafty enclosure. Snow filled every container they could find until melting over various flames; finally there was enough water in the tub. They hung a makeshift divider and soon Tansy and Michaela were splashing happily together.

Months of grime and grease gave way to two shining pink bodies. Tansy scrubbed them clean with a bar of soap she had. Reluctantly they climbed out and dressed in stained clean clothing. The men came in and in one giant heave the tub was flipped, the water absorbing into the ground and running down small crevices out the back dirt flooring of the enclosure, flowing into small cracks. They refilled it with the containers that were again filled with snow and warmed at the fire. After the girls bathed and dressed, the men argued who was next.

“Puppy is,” Michaela declared; she wrinkled her nose at the filthy dog.

“Well hell, why not,” Clint said grinning and, grabbing the pup by his scruff dragged him into the tub. Soon Tansy and the girls were laughing hysterically at Clint singing some song about his old red beat up truck, and the puppy howled as off-key as Clint was.

By the time they were done and clean it was late. Tansy had taken the opportunity of the tub to wash out their clothing. They ate more of the bear and polished off the last of the peaches from the root cellar. They managed to dry a great deal of the polar bear in two of the mini teepee’s they constructed. If rationed well enough, it would last for a while Cord concluded. While the weather held, he wanted them to keep moving. Cord liked Tansy’s idea of the mine and was surprised he hadn’t thought of the solution sooner.

“Tell us about the mines, Mom,” Emmy asked wistfully. She’d been there many times, but when Tansy explained it in great detail to others, she felt a sense of returning home. It was like reliving the experience in someone else’s mind.

Tansy held a sleeping, full and clean Michaela on her lap. She stroked the child’s hair back from her forehead. The puppy had been sent to his corner off to the side at Cord’s insistence after the pup relieved himself on Cord’s backpack. Tansy refrained from laughing outright, thinking it was the pup’s way of getting back at Cord for frightening him and Michaela the other night. But she’d been surprised at Cord’s control at reprimanding the animal. She thought for a moment he might actually have been sorry for frightening Mike so badly.

“The rock formation is breathtaking. We’ll be safe once tucked inside from the storms. There are four different entryways, two large and two small. Once we get there we can block off one of the smaller ones and seal one of the bigger ones to protect us from the high winds.” She looked at the three men each in turn. “We can work together. We’ll need to in order to survive; not many people are left out there. I think you know that, and that’s one of the reasons why you wanted to band together. Your bullets won’t last forever, neither will the rifles. Soon we’ll need different weapons. You’ll need to teach us to help hunt larger game, and we can collect the food we find in root cellars.”

“How’d you know there was food in them anyway?” Randy questioned.

“Well, what do some women like to do all summer?” she asked with a secret smile.

“Canning,” Clint said. “I watched my granny do more than her share.”

“Exactly, you just need to know where to look,” Tansy said. She yawned and they crawled under covers, knowing the next day would be lengthy.

As the others settled for the night, Cord sat staring into the fire’s flames, he was taking first watch. Tansy gazed up at him.

“You clean up nice, Vinegar,” he said.

Tansy smiled then offered him a pleading look. “Could we maybe walk a little slower tomorrow?”

Cord nodded. “Yeah, I was planning on looking for something else to hunt. I’m a little tired of bear.”

Tansy smiled again, only this time gratefully. She closed her eyes and was soon asleep.

The grave was shallow. It had to be, the ground was frozen and digging in it had been hard. A cold bitter wind was blowing fiercely, and the snow was flying. Ricky’s tears froze to his small red cheeks, as did Ethan’s to his own. Aidan stood stone-faced, he had seen so much death, most of it senseless; he assumed he’d become desensitized. But standing there, he felt a new grief. Sarah had been kind to him. Quick to offer a gentle touch to his cheek. She praised his accomplishments highly when he returned again and again the triumphant hunter. Her sweet voice would be missed.

He knew at this time she’d want him to take care of her son and husband. Sarah had one day pulled Aidan aside and asked him to. Instead of insisting she’d be okay as Ethan did, Aidan nodded, offering a gentle squeeze to her fragile shoulder. Her frail, finely-veined translucent hand covered his.

Sarah was gone. Ethan looked as though his life’s breath was being sucked from him. Aidan knew it was time for them to get in out of the cold. It wouldn’t bring her back if they got sick. Taking Ricky’s hand and urging Ethan around, they trudged back to the bomb shelter. It no longer felt like a home but a tomb. Aidan lit a match, not many left he noticed, and relit a candle. The three of them sat staring at nothing in particular. None of them were hungry. The last few weeks of Sarah’s life were hard on them. She wasted away to nothing until finally, thankfully if truth be told, she woke no more. Now with time on their hands, they found they had nothing to do except feel how lonely they were.