Back To Our Beginning (29 page)

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Authors: C. L. Scholey

BOOK: Back To Our Beginning
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“Is he a real General?” Ricky asked Michaela, whispering loudly as they returned to play with ‘Lucky,’ the name Cord had bestowed upon the pup since he had fished him out of the flood.

“I don’t know, but he sure is loud and bossy,” Michaela answered.

“Where are his medals?”

“Shanie said he ate them,” Michaela told him.

“Cool.”

“You’ve got quite a reputation,” Tansy told him, smiling, as they watched both children scurry off to seek out the pup.

“Once I’m better, I’ll live up to it,” Cord promised.

“What happened out there?” Clint asked.

“Not now. Cord’s tired and needs his rest,” Tansy admonished, she hurried Clint away and told him to go work on a project, hoping to keep him busy.

“Like what?” Clint asked perplexed. Truth be told, he would have liked to just sit by his best friend’s side, even if it meant just watching him rest.

“Go see if there are any signs of wild asparagus or rhubarb,” she said.

Emmy and Shanie wanted to go with him just to get out. The girls had been forbidden to leave the mine without another adult. Tansy realized this was very prejudiced of her, and the girls were mad because Tansy went out alone, book in hand, trying to identify the foliage as things began to grow. Normally, Tansy found one of the men needing something from outside usually trailed after her sooner or later to make sure she was safe.

It was such a beautiful day they brought the younger children along with Lucky, and Aidan and Ethan decided to tag along.

After Tansy made sure Cord was comfortable and warm, she moved off to study her book. She would’ve liked a pen and paper to make notes with. She thought she might use birch bark and eventually when they had enough hides she could use one of those. She was positive she could use a feather for writing from one of the ones stockpiled, or perhaps she could use charcoal. They didn’t have any pencils or pens; those specific items seemed unimportant to take at the time and since then the few remaining homes and cottages in their vicinity had been demolished by storms.

Tansy jumped when Cord cleared his throat, she thought him to be sleeping. She rose quickly.

“What’s wrong?” she asked with concern.

“I need to ah...”

“What?”

“Too much soup,” he volunteered and began squirming.

“Oh no, you’re not going to be sick are you?”

“No, I gotta piss.”

Turning red, Tansy felt foolish then concerned. She couldn’t lift him to help him walk, he was too unsteady on his feet and would fall if unassisted.

“Hang on,” she told him rising and sprinted off for one of the smaller tunnels.

“Well, I can’t much longer,” he said, beginning to pull himself up.

Frantically, Tansy searched then pulled down a glass jar from one of the shelves Aidan had started to make in one of the shorter tunnels. She ran back to him and thrust the jar at Cord.

He looked at it for a moment then shrugged. “Anything in an emergency,” he said and began struggling with his pants. The movement contorted his face into a grimace and he groaned in pain, clutched at his side and lay back. “I need some help,” he said in a tight voice, teeth gritted, unwilling to look at Tansy, his once pale face turning crimson.

Tansy sat still for a moment. She was alone with Cord, a man she still feared, who knew how faraway the others were and he actually wanted her to...

“I ain’t gonna rape you for Christ sakes. It’s not like I have the energy. I don’t want to piss myself. It’d be a shame to ruin this nice bear rug you have,” he said with exasperation.

Tansy reached out and undid the button on his pants. Next she began to undue his zipper with trepidation.

“Damn, woman, are you doing a striptease on me or something?” Cord yelled.

“Just what are you doing?” Aidan said, startling the both of them. He had returned to the mine intent on seeking his fishing rod after spying a large bass jump in the stream. Tansy stumbled backwards, lunged to her feet and pushed the jar into Aidan’s belly with tremendous relief.

“You help him,” she mumbled and raced quickly past Aidan out of the mine.

“You know,” Cord drawled, watching her hasty retreat. “I find it very difficult to believe that woman actually gave birth. I’m thinking she more likely had her children sent special delivery.”

* * * *

A routine developed among the survivors. They all cared for and watched out for each other. Cord’s natural instinct to take charge clashed with the others who were independent yet still reliant on one another. Cord found he was unable to dominate the others alone and found enlisting Clint’s help to be futile. Aidan and Ethan were large men, sure of themselves and uneasily daunted; they were close, used to watching out for each other. Clint had grown to enjoy his independence without Cord around. Cord could somewhat intimidate Emmy and Shanie, but Tansy refused to let them alone with him.

After Cord had found Randy’s battered body he’d been truly alone for the first time in his life...he hated it. Randy had become entangled in heavy debris. The backpack he had been trying to salvage became lodged under a massive tree trapping an arm in a crushing embrace, drowning him. Cord felt a great pang of remorse. It had been his idea to set up camp at the base of the hill. Randy trusted him. He felt responsible for his good friend’s sad demise.

Weary and in great pain he managed to bury his friend. The struggle to free Randy’s trapped arm caused his tender insides to scream in outraged agony, yet Cord refused to sever it. He would bury his friend whole, he owed him that.

Cord had risen from Randy’s grave glancing about, searching for Clint. When he first saw the puppy still struggling to pull itself up the side of the bank, Cord hadn’t really thought about saving it. Then he decided company was company and though he’d never eaten dog—he would just wait and see.

Later, as time passed, Cord had found the pup to be a good companion. When another man had attacked wanting to eat the dog, Cord had become incensed. Then, realizing the man would settle for stewing his own bones, Cord was enraged. Though badly bruised from the flood, Cord was able to thwart the smaller man, but the fight had taken its toll. He had been following the others’ tracks, and when the last storm struck made his way into the small cave and lit a fire. Cord then fell unconscious; he was starving, freezing and in terrible pain. Sometime later he felt the puppy crawl up beside him and lay still. He thought it was dead. Certain the same fate would soon be his, Cord drifted off.

At first when he awoke, Cord made out sounds, human sounds. He was overjoyed, but unable to call out. Then he turned fearful, what if these people were cannibals as well? His worst fear had always been of being eaten alive, although he imagined sharks or other animals, not humans. In his present condition, he was incapable of fending off another attack. When he heard the footsteps approach the front of the small cave and saw her face, Cord knew he’d live. He grabbed hold of Shanie’s wrist and hung on.

* * * *

Looking around for the hundredth time, Cord was impressed with their organization. They’d made a crude barbeque stove indoors with rocks, brick and clay, and he’d been surprised with maple syrup one morning in his tea. Ethan knew how to tap trees, improvising with small hollowed out tubes of wood, the sap collected in various types of containers, and he taught the others how to boil it down after straining the dirt from it. The children had enjoyed the heated liquid treat poured over snowballs in small wooden cups earlier in the season like snow cones. After boiling longer, the syrup thickening, it was rolled in tiny snow ice chips with cleaned twigs to make a taffy substance, another treat they ate off the sticks. Cord wished he’d been around then. Cord loved maple syrup.

Another wood stove had been placed near an outer opening in the mine near the top to let out smoke but keep heat in. Five wood stoves in all were situated throughout the mine, built in accommodating openings in the mine, placed strategically to aid in keeping it warm. Two were unlit as yet, as they remained at the bottom and side of the mine. They found odd pieces of mismatched piping to aid them. Cord realized once the piping rusted they’d need a new device to allow smoke to escape. Perhaps thick leather wound around something or stiffened into shape. Cord had done his share of welding and wondered if a heavy welding jacket of leather could be fashioned, pitched with wood tar and dried then molded to fit.

In late spring, Tansy brought back some wild rhubarb she’d been keeping an eye on along with some treasured asparagus and fiddleheads. She steamed the asparagus over the hot coals of her oven pit. She placed the fiddleheads in a large pot to steam them as well and cooked the finely diced rhubarb stalks in a small amount of water in a pot, adding some maple syrup to sweeten it. She then set water on to boil for tea. Tansy then went back to her book. Cord didn’t know why she bothered; he knew she’d memorized every word. Her care of him had been exemplary.

“You making more tea, Vinegar?” Cord inquired and not out of trepidation. She practiced using other vegetation as it grew. As her knowledge expanded and broadened so did the flavor.

Smiling up at him, Tansy nodded affirmative.

“That the stuff you gave me to help me?” Cord asked, indicating the pot.

“No, this is a bit different. It’s mixed with tulip petals, mint, pansies and violets. The pansies I steeped for you when you developed that cough as well as the wild Angelica.” She poured the tea and added a healthy dollop of maple into the children’s cups and then one of a sweetened liqueur found in an old cabin into Cord’s cup. He took a sip savoring the taste and smiled.

“This is good.”

“Thanks. I’m afraid we’ll have to boil the rest of the syrup down to sugar soon before it goes moldy. We don’t have anywhere to keep it cool. Ethan already has started with success and stores it in birch bark. We were able to collect the syrup in old piping. I’ve been trying to hold off boiling the rest, keeping a small amount in syrup form as long as possible.”

She set the children’s cups aside to cool. Stirring her soup, Tansy also added edible flowers; she enjoyed the hint of lemony taste from lilacs, the slightly sweet almost grassy flavor of violets and pansies and the spicy hint from marigolds. That done, she checked on a roast from a cow the others had brought in. She had the roast in her oven, and using Ethan’s tongs she pulled it out to baste it with a small wooden ladle Aidan had made.

Tansy enjoyed cooking before, taken pride in her unusual dishes, but she had to admit this was more unusual. Not just the meat, but the way it was prepared and acquired. The cow had been an easy target. It was still docile and practically ran to the humans. It was also Shanie and Emmy’s first real kill. Emmy insisted the bear incident had just been out of desperation and would’ve preferred to forget the entire episode. The cow stood unassumingly. Aidan and Ethan told them where to throw and what to aim their arrows at.

Emmy shot then cried as the cow fell to its knees bawling pitifully from the pain, stumbling to regain its lost footing. Clint consoled her with quick soothing words, but cheered Shanie as she sighted determinedly then finished it off, wanting to end its misery. Both girls refused to slit its throat, but Aidan thought it was a step in the right direction and did it for them.

Shanie had been so pleased Aidan and the other men gave her the fetal skin from the doe, she vowed to make an honest effort at hunting. After she cured the hide with Aidan’s help, she made it into a small summer outfit for Michaela. Tansy found a hawthorn tree and with Aidan’s assistance dug a hole through the end of a small sturdy, sharp thorn. Using a piece of sinew, Shanie threaded the hawthorn needle. The skin was penetrable in most places, but in others she needed to poke a hole through the soft hide first. Shanie worked diligently on a small tank top shirt and a small skirt. Taking another flap of hide, Tansy was able to pull one end of the flap between Michaela’s legs to stick out in front and back covering her effectively. Shanie was praised so highly and Mike looked so cute and comfortable, Shanie wanted to make the same kind of outfit for herself.

Cord was drinking his tea and liqueur when the others arrived. Michaela, Ricky and Lucky raced in ahead of Shanie and Emmy who had all washed in the small creek. Emmy held a bass and a perch up for Tansy to see.

“Yes, fish.” Cord beamed. It had been a while since he tasted fish. Thankful for the food provided, he knew they depended on the luck of the hunters who brought in deer, elk or fowl. They still had a supply of bear meat which had been dried and stored with pemmican in anticipation of the winter months.

“Maybe you can help us fish next time,” Emmy told him hesitantly.

Shanie cast her a sidelong scowl, thinking his presence would be an intrusion. Shanie admitted she was happy Cord was alive; she hadn’t wished him dead no matter the circumstances. She was happier for Clint who didn’t seem so sad now. Yet she was not willing to accept him; he killed Chris, no matter that her mother said he hadn’t meant to kill him. It hadn’t mattered Chris tripped; Cord thought to hurt him regardless.

Worse was the fact Chris died thinking himself responsible for the death of his mother, when all he’d been trying to do was defend her mother from Clint. Shanie put the blame solely on Cord; as far as she was concerned, both deaths were his fault. She couldn’t help but wonder if fate had stepped in and been responsible for his month-long solitary confinement and pain, some kind of penance. Why he’d been returned to them and was once more whole and healthy had her wondering.

Cord looked at Tansy hopefully. She’d assessed his bruises daily and poked at his ribs until he was ready to poke her back.

“Maybe Clint will take you fishing tomorrow,” she told him, having seen Shanie’s look and understanding her thoughts. Whether Cord was a part of their new family or not, acceptance couldn’t be pushed under the circumstances. Shanie had a right to feel angry.

“I don’t need a babysitter,” Cord informed Tansy, hands on hips taking an intimidating stance. He had regained most of the weight he lost and once again was a formidable presence. Tansy remained unimpressed and undaunted, having cared for him when he was at his most vulnerable.

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