Sneaks (3 page)

Taking up the middle part of one of the walls was a large fireplace, too large for the small space. In the middle of the room was a table that looked like it was used for everything from eating to storing junk. Shelves lined another wall and hung above a sagging bed. The worst thing about the room was the bitter smell.

“Pew.” I walked over to the bed and put the baby down. The smell became much stronger. I sniffed as I lifted my head.

The shelves above the bed were full of containers. Some of them were made of clay, others were made of wood. The stink was coming from whatever was in those containers.

“Uugh.” I lifted the baby. "I won’t put you under that. Here.” I put him on a chair in front of the fireplace and then rummaged around the cabin. On the floor, not far away, I found some candles and matches. 

Once lit, the candle brightened the room and made it gloomier at the same time. It also pointed out how dirty everything was.

“I don’t see a sink. And I don’t see a fridge. I was hoping for some milk, or at least some filtered water,” I said aloud.

He whimpered at my tone.

“I'm hungry too,” I said.

 The filth that covered everything didn’t cover any sort of food.

As if on cue, a noise sounded from behind the cabin. I looked out one of the small windows. I wasn't sure what kind of animal it was but I thought maybe a goat. A grey and bearded goat stood below the window and looked up.

I had no idea how to kill and cook the animal. I didn't think I could anyway. I turned away from the window.

“Who are ye?” the accented voice said. A small old woman suddenly took my neck in one of her hands and pressed knife to it with the other one. 

“I’m Kally. I need help. Please, the baby needs help.” My throat was so pinched that I didn’t know how I got the words out. If I hadn’t been so surprised and scared, I might have realized that I could have taken this old woman down with only one move. She couldn’t have been five feet tall or weighed more that ninety pounds or so. Her face was all wrinkles, and her breath was worse than the stink in the room.

“Kally, aye? Weel, why do ye sound so different?” She pushed harder on the knife.

“You sound different to me, too. I don’t know why. I found the baby in the woods. He needs help and I’m lost.”

The old woman pulled her glare away from me and looked at the baby. When she turned back, her pruned face had softened slightly. “Where are ye from?”

“Chigo.”

“Och,” she interrupted. “Ye’re not from here?” She released the pressure on both my neck and the knife enough that I could take a full breath.

“I don’t know where here is. Where am I?” I resisted the urge to reach to my throat and check for injuries.  

“Ye dinna ken where ye are?”

“What?”

“Ye dinna ken where ye are?” she said again, slowly.

“Dinna” must have meant “don’t.” “Ken might have meant “know.”

“No, I don't,” I said, hoping I’d made the translation. I gave in and reached up. There was no blood.

“Sit down,” she commanded.

"Look, we just need help."

"Sit down."

I looked at the baby, who was on the only chair.

“No, not there. I’ll take care of the bairn. Ye sit on the bed.” She still held the knife, now about two feet from my gut.

I moved slowly across the small room and then sat down on the unstable bed. I breathed only out of my mouth, but the stink still made its way in.

The old woman looked at me, her eyes moving from the strands of hair that hung over my shoulders, down to my exposed midriff, over my Govment-issued jeans and to my pink-striped sneakers. I was filthy. She still held the knife but there was something about her face that relaxed. She sighed just like my mom and said quietly, “Ye’re in Scotland.”

“What?” I couldn’t have heard her correctly.

“Scotland.”

“Okay.” I rolled my eyes.  I knew I was somewhere I'd never been before, but there was no direct route from my secret shop to Scotland. However, the only direct route I knew about was to the kitchen.

She nodded. "Ye are."

“That’s not possible. I’ve never been out of the Chigo, let alone to Scotland.”

“Aye, it must be possible, lass, because that’s where ye are.”

I was mad and scared and my throat tightened. I didn't want to cry, though, so I cleared my throat, and looked away from her eyes.

“My name is Berna and ye’re in Scotland. It is the year of our lord, seventeen hundred and fifty.” She’d stepped forward and stood in front of me. She reached for the pendant at the bottom of my throat. I pulled back. “Ye’re here.” She wiped the knife on her skirt and put it in her pocket before she tipped my chin with her fingers. “And, ye were supposed to come to me, I’m sure of it. Ye're a time sneak.”

Not only had Berna’s face changed, so had her voice. She didn’t sound as old. Why had she been the only help I could find?

“What the f . . . What's a time sneak?” I wiped my nose on my arm. “Seventeen-hundred and fifty to me is so far in the past that I don't know anything about it. But you're right, I'm not supposed to be here. If you let me go, I’ll take the baby and we’ll see if someone else can help us.”

“A time sneak moves through time, but we dinna have enough of it for me to explain. Ye do have to go.”

“Yes, yes, I have to go. We’ll go now.” I stood and stepped toward the baby, but Berna cut me off.

“No, ye canna take the bairn. Ye have to go alone and ye have to go to the Castle Lennox. Ye were supposed to come to me so that I may take care of the bairn, I think, and I was to tell ye that ye are to go to the Castle Lennox.” She didn’t sound confident.

This was not happening. “I don’t know how to find the Castle Lennox,” I said. I looked at the baby. I’d been looking for someone to take him off my hands, but I couldn’t leave him with a crazy old woman whose house stunk worse than a bad pollution day. “Berna, you can’t take care of the baby. I’ll take him and I’ll find some other help.” I hated saying the words. How was I going to find anyone else to take care of him? I'd barely been able to find her. I didn't know how to take care of him but I'd be better than her, I was sure, and if something happened to him . . . I just didn't need that guilt. 

“No, I told ye, ye have to go alone. Now go.”

“Berna, just give me the baby.”

Suddenly, she put her hands on my arms and started to push me toward the door.

“Hey!” I said.

Berna grunted and groaned as she pushed and pulled. She had an uncanny strength. I tried everything – yanking my arm away, peeling her fingers, using my body to push her backwards – nothing worked.

We wrestled, and somehow this small old woman maneuvered my bigger younger body out of her house. She slammed the door and then propped something against it to keep me from pushing my way back in.

“Berna, give me the baby,” I said from the other side.

I knew deep-down in my gut that he would not be safe with her. I hated that I knew this. It would be so much easier to run without him, but I couldn't. She was going to hurt him; she was maybe going to kill him. I just knew.

And why did I care?

I could walk away from this house now, find help for myself and try to get home. I hadn’t asked to take care of a baby. I didn’t want to take care of a baby. I didn’t even know how.

I stepped back from the door and looked around. All I had to do was keep moving. She was a crazy old woman but maybe she wouldn’t hurt him. Maybe she’d take care of him. I took another step backwards. He wasn’t my responsibility anyway.

But I just couldn’t. I couldn’t leave the damn baby.  

I stepped forward and pounded on the door and yelled for I didn’t know how long. I walked around the cabin and tried to pull myself up and through one of the windows, but they were just high enough up that I needed to step on something to reach the openings. The only things I could find were the annoying animal and a large boulder that I couldn’t budge. And I didn’t know which way to turn to search for someone else to help.

Berna didn’t say anything and I didn’t hear one cry from the baby. My mind worked through all of the horrible things she must be doing to him. 

When the sun was halfway toward the horizon, I got more tired than I've ever been. I collapsed on the dirt in front of the door.

“I’m not leaving until I either die out here or you give me that baby," I said.

Though Berna wasn't talking, I thought I heard something from far away. I sat up straight as the sound became louder. It was made up of voices, I thought. People were singing and . . . I wasn’t sure of the other sound, but it accompanied the vibrating ground. People were headed this direction. They might be able to help. I stood up and looked for the crowd.

Behind me, the door flung open, the force almost pulling me back a step. Before I could turn, Berna had my arm again.

“Ye must get in here and hide, lass. They are very bad men.”

My mouth open, I looked at the crazy old woman and then back toward the people who couldn't be as crazy, could they? And then I looked back into the cabin. The baby was asleep on the chair. He’d been cleaned and was wrapped in something that wasn’t dingy or covered in blood.

She hadn’t killed him. She hadn’t even hurt him. His cheeks were pink and he was breathing. Maybe she’d fed him. Hopefully, she hadn't poisoned him.

“Now, lass.” Berna pulled, and this time I didn’t argue. I would do as she said. For now.

There were no closets, no cubby holes. There was no place in the small house to hide except the chimney. That wasn't going to work.

“Under the bed, then. Make is fast and be quiet.” She handed the baby to me, her quick movements waking him.

Trying not to drop him, I scooted under the short bed. It was very cramped and I could tell that the baby either sensed my claustrophobia or had some of his own because he began to fuss just as we got settled.

“No, shh, baby, quiet,” I whispered.

“Now, make him silent.” Berna bent over and her upside-down face glanced at us sternly. “And, lass, listen to me, ye must get to the Castle Lennox. Ye must not let these men take ye. And if ye canna get there, remember where I live. Come back to me if ye can. If I’m not here, check the loose stone on the fireplace. I’ll leave ye a note.”

It was hard enough to understand the words she said, but I also had no idea what she meant. I didn't know anything about the Castle Lennox. I didn't know anything about any castle. I just hoped no men would take me anywhere.

“Shh, hush, shh,” I tried again to quiet the baby. It didn’t work and I thought he might start yelling at any moment.

Berna left the house, slamming the door as she went. I heard the crowd get closer. I thought I was hearing a bunch of male voices singing some sort of song. Their approach made the floor vibrate. 

I didn’t know what to do with the baby, other than put my hand over his mouth. I was careful and made sure he could still breathe out of his nose, but I knew I was being mean. In the confines of our small space, he kicked his legs and pounded the air and scraped his fists on the under side of the bed. Because his noise and everyone's strange accent, I couldn’t make out the exact words that were being spoken, but I could tell they weren’t friendly.

I heard yelling and thought Berna was begging. It seemed like they went on forever, and they just kept getting louder. Finally, the door burst open.

I drew in my breath loudly which startled the baby silent for what I knew would only be a brief time. Even in the shadowed light under the bed, I saw his tiny lips fold down in a frown. He would burst into a scream any minute.

“Weel, mistress Berna, if ye dinna have yer tax coins, I’m happy to see what else the laird might approve of.” The voice was loud and manly deep and accented even more than Berna's. 

“Sir, I ha’ nothing, as ye can plainly see,” Berna said, though she wasn’t begging any longer. She sounded pissed.

I thought I had heard a large group approaching, but whoever else had been part of the group wasn’t talking.

I peered out at the feet I assumed were attached to the voice. They were huge and wrapped in some sort of leather-like material. They were attached to thick, but bony ankles and black-haired legs. I’d never seen legs so hairy. Even with nothing else to judge him by, I could tell the man was huge.

“I’m sure I’ll find something,” he said as he began to stomp around the small space.

I didn’t know if it was because the man began moving again or because I'd started breathing again, but the baby sucked in what was sure to be a huge wail. I tried to get my hand over his mouth, but I was too late; the scream shook the walls. 

With only two steps, the man’s big feet were beside the bed. He didn’t bend over and look underneath it, but he lifted it with a whoosh and words that sounded like curses.

I looked up at the stone-like face that was supported by a thick neck and wide scary shoulders.

The baby stopped screaming, and I was so scared that I felt my toes and fingers chill.

For some stupid reason I said, “Hi.”