Back To Our Beginning (27 page)

“Well, he didn’t look like he’d jist pissed himself,” Clint mumbled anyway.

Tansy shook her head in disgust.

“What I meant was,” Ethan began and gave a hard stare in Clint’s direction, “that we could use the garbage bags, find us a hill and go tobogganing.”

The idea was met with a whoop of delight from Ricky and because he was so happy Michaela became happy; they bounced up and down and hugged one another. It had been a long time since either of them had really been out to just play. Their exuberance was an inspiring sight, too innocent to resist. Although Tansy worried about getting cold and wet, she elicited a promise from the men; they would bring in snow and everyone could have a wash in a hot tub afterwards. They soon had everyone dressed warmly, if in mismatched clothing.

Moving the door partition back took a bit of strength, as the snow and ice had piled against it. But they soon had enough space to squeeze through. Ethan and Aidan brought out the garbage bags and a small hill within sight of the mine was found. With Michaela held securely in his lap Clint was happily flying down the hill at an alarming rate, howling excitedly for the world to hear that he was having fun. Once reaching the bottom he scooped up Michaela into his arms and raced through the snow to the top of the hill. Ethan and Ricky had already gone, but the bag slipped out from beneath them and they tumbled down the last few feet. They returned laughing and bright-eyed.

“Come on, Tansy,” Clint yelled.

Clint grabbed up a protesting Tansy and before she knew it, she was sailing down the hill adding her own screams to Clint’s howls as the trees rushed past in a frenzy, snow flying in their wake. They landed at the bottom in a heap of snowy arms and legs. Tansy, lying beneath a large and heavy Clint, looked up into vibrantly blue laughing eyes. Before she knew what was happening his look turned serious and his mouth descended. He kissed her. It had been so long since she had physical contact, at first she responded to his soft exploration, until Clint’s lips became more demanding while cupping the back of her head.

When his warm moist tongue invaded her mouth greedily to explore, she began to struggle beneath him, until they both went flying as Aidan and Shanie crashed into them. Tansy was up on her feet, shaking off the covering snow; she headed to the mine alone. She insisted she needed to check on the bath water. She moved off, almost running in her haste to escape the embarrassing scene and was gone before anyone could think to offer up a protest.

Clint watched her as she disappeared. Worry for her safety had him about to follow, until he felt a snowball explode onto his chest. Surprised, he looked around seeking the culprit.

“Mom needs some space, and Mike wants you to play,” Shanie told him.

Shanie had seen them kiss and had mixed feelings. Her loyalty was with her father, but he was gone and would never be back. Her mother couldn’t stay alone forever. Though Shanie liked Clint, she knew her mother never had a chance to grieve, none of them had. Their losses and stress were too overwhelming emotionally; they needed more time. Survival for their lives was paramount and foremost taking precedence in their thoughts.

* * * *

Tansy entered the mine carefully. After glancing about she decided it was safe to enter. She felt it was, but a hasty decision could produce another encounter with an animal she’d rather avoid. Tansy sat near one of the fires that had died down to smoldering ash and rocked herself back and forth. She was confused and embarrassed, she felt as if she were betraying Shane. She wanted to be loved again, she knew that. She didn’t know if she wanted Clint. Tansy liked him, respected his altruism; he was wonderful with Michaela and her other girls, but was he someone she wanted to be with in a physical and emotional way?

Smiling wryly at the thought she determined that yes, there was a definite physical attraction. Clint was exceedingly well built and handsome. But what about her emotional and social needs? Clint was funny and sweet, but putting it delicately; his elevator didn’t always go to the top floor. Tansy didn’t want to feel shallow. It wasn’t as if they were going to be fighting over which plays and movies to go see. There would be no bestsellers to offer a debate, the ballet was non-existent. Not even a baseball or hockey game to start an interesting conversation. Clint could hunt, he was powerful, and he wanted her, of that there was no doubt. But what did she want for herself?

“Damn,” she muttered and rose to her feet, intent on busying herself with work. A pot of melted fat sat nearby perched on three rocks, which accidently tipped when her foot caught one of the stones, sending it over into the hot ash in her haste. It sizzled, spit and sparked startling her and she jumped, grabbing for the water boiling in one of the pans for the bath, tossing it over the fat.

“Great. What a mess.” Her hand swatted absently before her against the billowing smoke.

Tansy sat there staring into the watery mess angry with herself. She’d have to restart the fire, and grabbed up a stick to pull the watery fat to the sides of the pit. As she did, she saw she was creating suds. Curious, Tansy began thinking hard; she remembered reading a book once about making soap. Excitedly she racked her brains and remembered it was fat, ash and water. She grabbed up her book and became elated at reading a small part about making soap an antiseptic by adding horseradish root or pine resin.

Tansy grabbed the pot originally containing fat and dropped more into the pot. After starting a small fire she set the pot over the stones surrounding it, careful to keep from upsetting it once more. She then mixed water and ash in another container. By the time the others returned Tansy had strained the water and ash mixture through a cloth and boiled it with equal amounts of melted fat then simmered it. The contents had cooled and she sat smiling at everyone.

“I’m making soap,” she told them excitedly.

“Mom, you take your bath way too seriously,” Shanie told her.

Clint had been reluctant to enter the mine, wondering if Tansy was angry with him. He had been surprised at her response when he had kissed her, elated she had responded. Then when she began struggling, he was dismayed. He was wondering at the reception he was about to receive and found himself smiling back at her.

“Look,” Tansy exclaimed, holding up a mass of suds that slipped through her fingers.

“Where did you get that?” Ethan asked.

“I made it.”

Tansy then explained to the group about ash, fat and water, and how she had come about putting it together. Clint was troubled, knowing it was him that caused her frustration. But if Tansy was annoyed with him, she gave no indication; she seemed impressed with herself. She picked up her soap concoction and Michaela and headed for the wash tub. Michaela was soon splashing and Tansy was soaping them both.

It was late afternoon when everyone was clean and dressed. They took up overlooked tasks with more enthusiasm being refreshed. Tansy talked Michaela into taking a nap. Ricky succumbed soon to sleep as well on Tansy’s bed, having no one to play with and after a busy morning of fun. Aidan returned to making the frame for the bear fur and with the help of Clint soon had the fur stretched out as tightly as possible. They made small holes all around the fur and tied it tightly by using string Aidan found. Aidan and Clint then moved the frame near the fire to aid in drying it.

Aidan explained the smoke from the fire would help preserve it. After doing this Aidan began scraping the skin to remove fat and flesh with a sharp rock; he told Clint, who aided him, to scrape gently lest they damage the skin. Aidan wanted the fur left on the bearskin but told Clint after they cleaned the elk hide he would soak its skin in water for two or three days. He explained he would then be able to pull the hair off easier. They finished by rubbing the bearskin hide with wood ash.

Continuing his explanation for the others, Aidan told them he needed to make a mixture of animal fat and brains that would have to be simmered over the trench fire until it made an even consistency. After the skin was scraped on both sides of the elk while wet, he would then work the concoction into the skin. Afterwards, he would dry the elk skin as he was the bear fur, near the fires in the smoke alcove to make it supple. Also the animal fat or tallow from suet would make the skin waterproof.

“What are you going to make with it?” Shanie asked Aidan.

“I can make lots of things,” Aidan boasted.

Shanie was surprised at his knowledge and was amazed he would think to glue rubber from old tires or pieces of trampoline to moccasins for stronger footwear. He told them grass and feathers could be used as insulators along with moss. Aidan also delicately mentioned that soft scrap pieces of hide could be used for a woman’s personal needs. Hides could be used as bedding, clothing, footwear, lashings, door covers or if necessary food.

“You’re amazing,” Emmy told Aidan in wide-eyed awe.

Aidan colored and offered her a smile of thanks. She seemed so sincere in her innocence, he was hard-pressed not to gush in his enthusiasm. He also made a mental note of making sure the girls would get a great deal of much needed scraps, even if it meant he wouldn’t be able to make moccasins to match a shirt. Though his boots were definitely showing signs of wear and tear as were everyone else’s. He realized he would need to teach them all how to make a more substantial footwear.

Off in another area Ethan was making his son a bed fashioned after the one Clint had made. Aidan gave him sinew from the animals and told him it would dry hard and strong to help hold the bed together with duct tape. When finished, Ethan blew up two small air mattresses they found in the closet of a half-standing home, and would place one on Michaela’s bed when she awoke and one on Ricky’s overtop a small sheet of the plastic strips Emmy had been crocheting together, hoping to keep the bough branches from puncturing the mattresses.

With the mines entrances barricaded, they were feeling more secure and though they kept many fires going, it was mostly for warmth and comfort. Many fires meant they had more light to work on many different projects. Tansy was able to cook their food over the grill and worked at carving out a wooden bowl from a piece of wood. Aidan told her she could use sandstone like a piece of sandpaper to make it smooth. Though they had plates and bowls collected from the few remaining standing homes, they realized once these broke they would be unable to purchase more and had best get used to creating their own.

“What’s for supper?” Clint asked; he had moved his work closer to the warmth and light of the fire.

Clint’s project was making an axe head. It was tedious and time-consuming. He had to find a suitable axe handle. The wood he chose was hard and knot free. It lay about the length of his forearm. The axe head was trickier, it involved finding a hard rock and in this case he found a piece of flint. Clint split the stone and partially shaped the edges. By using a softer stone he was able to make smaller hits until the axe head took shape. Splitting down the middle of the hardwood at the top up to the binding he secured around the wood, he then inserted the axe head and bound the top, effectively securing the stone. It was a serviceable implement when finished; he would be able to split wood and smaller pieces of rock and sticks. As well, it would be useful for cutting off the many pine boughs they brought in to aid as a small insulator against the cold ground.

“I have stew on, of course,” Tansy told him.

She almost always had stew on. Tansy found when cooking on the grill, because she was unable to control the flames, the bottom of the pot often burned. Ethan came to her aid after she jokingly asked him to hold the pot above the grill with his hand. Instead, it set his mind working and finding a strong piece of wood with a broken off branch he was able to suspend the pot above the grill by slipping the handle over the knob of the broken branch.

“Stew, eh?” Clint asked, he took the time to poke at a grilling steak. “I never thought in my whole life I’d enjoy eatin’ Brussels sprouts, but right now I think I’d kill for somethin’ green.”

“Me, too,” Tansy said then added dreamily, “I want a garden salad topped with oil and vinegar, clam chowder sprinkled with black pepper, escargot smothered in mozzarella cheese stuffed in garlic mushroom caps. Steamed asparagus dripping with real butter and lots of salt, with huge doughy rolls hot from the oven, sweet potatoes whipped with a dollop of heavy cream and light brown sugar and a bottle of white wine. With thick slices of ten-year-old cheddar cheese.”

His mouth suddenly watering, Clint thought he could definitely go for that.

“I want dippy eggs,” a sleepy Michaela said, up from her nap. She plopped herself onto her mother’s lap and ground small fists into her eyes.

“What’s a ‘dippy’ egg?” Clint asked.

“It’s a soft boiled egg left in its shell that you slice the top off of then dip rectangle cut pieces of toast into, and one of Mike’s favorite foods,” Tansy informed him then to Michaela, “I’m sorry sweetheart, no eggs or toast.

The child was soon sobbing, but it gave a thought to Clint. If spring was here he might just be able to find some eggs soon...maybe. As Tansy rocked Michaela, she noted the expression on Clint’s face. She had come to understand that though he was thinking, not always a good thing, he was occasionally planning with real knowledge.

“You have that hunting-stalker look on,” Tansy told him.

“Yeah.”

Michaela stopped sobbing and looked at him hopefully. “Can you stalk eggs?”

“Maybe,” he answered then smiled at the child and tweaked her nose. Clint then began picking up the pieces of chipped flint. Some of them could be fashioned into arrowheads. He chuckled as he fingered one of the pieces. There were definitely some advantages to living in a mine.

Over the next few days, the group kept busy. A number of items they made were based on trial and error, a great deal of error. Emmy’s first attempt at a birch bark container ended up in the fire at her frustration. Tansy rushed at making the finishing touches on a large wooden spoon she would have liked to use for stews and it broke. Ethan was able to make a pair of sturdy tongs to fish out fist-sized hot rocks from the fire that they put into the beds, or wrapped in blankets to warm them up before sleeping, or towels after washing. But they accidently caught on fire. The device was handy though, and he made a sturdier pair.