Painted Vessels

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Painted Vessels Page 1

by Gina Renee Freitag




  Copyright © 2020 Gina Renee Freitag

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems without permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner.

  Bible quotes are from NKJV

  ISBN: 9781707062270

  Cover and interior layout by Creative Publishing Book Design

  Printed in the United States of America

  This book is dedicated to everyone who is wading through the middle of the unknown. Whether you feel God’s presence or not, He will never let go of you. Trust His plan, it is better than anything we can imagine.

  For I know the thoughts that I think toward you, says the LORD, thoughts of peace and not of evil, to give you a future and a hope.

  Jeremiah 29:11

  PART 1

  For our light affliction, which is but for a moment, is working for us a far more eternal weight of glory, while we do not look at the things which are seen, but at the things which are not seen. For the things which are seen are temporary, but the things which are not seen are eternal.

  2 Corinthians 4:17-18

  ADA

  “Wake up, Ada. We can’t stay here any longer.” Ada kept her eyes closed, resisting Eli’s orders. She needed more sleep! After only a few days of hiding in this old cabin, Ada felt as though the constant chill had finally left her body. The aches and pains caused by long days of trekking through underbrush were starting to feel like a memory. Even her nightmares had slowed, giving her a small hint of peace. She didn’t want to get up. She didn’t want to leave. And she certainly did not want to think about why it might be necessary!

  Her eyes fluttered open, revealing the low morning light. It was almost dawn; the sun hovered on the horizon, unwilling to rise above the trees. Just as unwillingly, Ada sat up.

  “Can’t we stay?” she asked. “One more day?”

  “I know you don’t want to go,” he said as he grabbed items from the shelf and stuffed them into his bag. “But I’m worried. They might be closer than we think. We can’t let them find us.” Eli buzzed about the room with a determination that made her uneasy.

  “How can they find us, Eli? We haven’t stopped running since we reached the woods. How do you know they’re even following us?”

  “Because of this,” he said, pulling a leather satchel out of his canvas bag, the one he had taken from that horrible man at the abandoned rock quarry. He placed the satchel in her hands. “I didn’t know it was in the bag,” he added.

  She opened it with trembling fingers, and as she peeked inside, her heart sank. This changed everything! Her eyes darted around the cabin, and a wave of fear crashed over her as the safety of this oasis melted like a mirage in the desert.

  They had stumbled upon this mossy old hunting shack four days ago, and it seemed like the perfect place to hide. It had been well stocked despite the layer of grey covering everything. The table and counter, the folded clothes and linens, and the jars of canned food on the shelf had all been coated in a colorless, dusty film. Even now, the beds hadn’t lost their extra blanket of ashen drabness. So what? At least the cabin had beds! Before finding this rundown shack, Eli had made them places to sleep in the woods. But fir boughs stacked upon bumpy tree limbs could never be as comfortable as a real bed, even a dusty one.

  The fact that he was able to make beds out of fallen branches was the point she needed to remember, though. He was able to get them off the cold ground at night and made better lean-to shelters than she could, ones that wouldn’t leak or fall on them. He could find water, he was good with directions, and he knew how to trap small animals. Eli had kept them safe for this long; she shouldn’t question his decisions now.

  She knew he was right! He usually was, and she trusted him. She had known Eli all her life, almost fifteen years. He was a year older than her, and his family had lived in the house next to hers for as long as she could remember. Eli Noble and Ada Young were best friends and always had been. They walked to school together, helped each other with their chores, and frequently explored the fringes of the back woods. Even their families—the Nobles and Youngs—ate supper together regularly. At least they used to.

  Ada had always stayed home, though, whenever Eli went camping with his dad. It was one of the few things she had never done with him. Instead, the father-son duo would disappear into the wilderness for several nights at a time. Deep in those back woods, Mr. Noble taught his son all the things that were currently keeping Ada alive.

  After coming home from those excursions, Eli often took her to the edge of the woods and showed her what he had learned. Last May he had her taste the edible plants he could now recognize. As she nibbled on a dandelion, he told her that when they were married someday, they could explore the woods for days and never go hungry. And when they found the perfect spot, he would build her a house, just like his dad had done for his mom.

  But several weeks ago—almost one year later—Eli’s hopes of learning any more skills from his father came to a shocking end, and from that day on, their lives would never be the same! That cold April day, which had dashed Eli’s dreams, was also the source of Ada’s nightmares. It was a day they both tried not to think about, yet it was constantly on their minds.

  Now they desperately needed to hide, but this couldn’t be what Eli had imagined when he looked to their future. Surviving in the woods was not the idyllic fairytale Ada thought it would be. Always having to worry about who might be tracking them was distressing. After several days of constantly moving, trying to stay warm, and often failing to find food, she felt broken.

  Finally, having no one but themselves and owning nothing but a stolen bag of clothes and a ten-inch Bowie knife, they had chanced upon this refuge against the cold, harsh wilderness. Though faded and crumbling, this little shack offered them a place to rest. In the cabin, they would be warm and dry, maybe even safe. They could stop running and start thinking, for just one moment, about what to do next. But that hope vanished when Eli showed her what was in his bag.

  As she closed the satchel’s flap, her stomach flipped. The greasy leather smelled like smoke and sweat. Repulsed, Ada shoved it to the bottom of the bag. Now she was finally motivated to leave, even if it meant returning to those indistinguishable days and nights of trudging through the woods. They would continue to run, always moving forward.

  In a daze, she watched Eli stuff old clothes into his bag. Next, a metal bowl and two cups from the cupboard went in. Shaking off her dread, Ada opened a drawer and sifted through its contents. As Eli wrapped a small knife in linens and placed it with the other items, Ada found two candles and some flint, which she packed into the bag as well. Eli discovered a length of rope in a crate by the door; setting it aside, he rolled the blankets from both beds into a tight bundle. Using one end of the rope to tie up the bundle, he created shoulder straps with the other end.

  “Do you mind carrying this?” he asked.

  “No, I don’t mind,” Ada said. She picked up a pot that was sitting on the woodstove. “Should we take this also?” It would be easier to cook in that pot rather than on a spit made from sticks. Whenever Eli had managed to snare the occasional animal, they cooked it over a fire and ate it with their hands, resulting in burnt, greasy fingers. “We should look for some utensils,” she added.

  “Good idea,” he agreed. “See if you can tie the pot onto the blankets.” Eli found metal plates and utensils under the counter and tossed them
into the bag. He grabbed a cloth from the shelf and tore it into strips.

  “Should we take the jars of food?” she asked, nodding toward the shelf.

  “Maybe one,” he replied, bringing the strips of cloth to her. “Otherwise, they might get too heavy, and I don’t want them to knock together and break in the bag. Here, give me your arm.” Ada obeyed, and he pushed her sleeve up and wrapped her forearm in the cloth strips. It was uncomfortable, but she felt safer with her arm covered. After tying the ends together and tucking them under the edge of the wrapping, Eli gave her a half-hearted smile.

  “That should work for now,” he said. “Could you do mine?” She nodded and wrapped his arm just like hers. He scanned over the room one final time and grabbed a jar of greyish-yellow vegetables from the shelf. “Okay, let’s go,” he said. The two young people abandoned their sanctuary, shouldering their respective loads.

  “Which way?” she asked. Squinting, Eli pointed to the southeast. As they began to walk, the sun finally peeked over the treetops.

  EVELYN

  Mrs. Evelyn Russell was East Haven’s self-appointed expert in all things domestic, so the prospect of having newlyweds move in next door gave her quite a thrill. She first learned of this possibility while taking a well-deserved break from her own affairs yesterday afternoon. As she sat in her kitchen nook sipping spiced tea, she took a mental inventory of her pantry’s stock of canned goods and other various sundries. But the task of reorganizing was forgotten when she noticed David Holden, the town’s banker and property holder, escorting a young couple into the old Colebrook house.

  That house had been empty for years. Situated on a plot of ten acres, it had once been efficiently kept on the inside by Mrs. Colebrook and smartly maintained on the outside by Mr. Colebrook. It was a sensible three-bedroom house with an economic floorplan, neither too big nor too small.

  Evelyn had often thought that if the Colebrooks had been a touch more creative and not so thrifty, their home might have been improved upon greatly. It was a sturdy building with abundant potential. In fact, after it had been vacant for only two months, she began to think of it as the perfect house for one of her own daughters to settle into. With Evelyn’s influence, it could be a splendid home indeed! Several years later, her dream of beautifying the Colebrook house finally died away when all four daughters had married and moved away. But now, Evelyn felt a small rekindling of an expectation once denied her.

  The couple viewing the house seemed young; they couldn’t have been married for more than a few months. Due to their simple appearance, they must be starting out their married life with little to no means. They were not a local couple, and given that East Haven was a remote town, the young bride would not have a maternal figure to turn to when facing her daily trials of early marital establishment. Evelyn would be an indispensable help to her new neighbors!

  To many of the local townsfolk, Mrs. Russell was considered a know-it-all and a busybody with strong, unbendable opinions. Evelyn, however, saw herself as an experienced homemaker with a burden to help the less enlightened housewives of East Haven. She must help them strive toward their own perfection! She wasn’t able to admit, or even understand, the true source of her meddling. She was, in fact, a lonely widow, deprived of the opportunity to shape the early years of her own daughters’ marriages. Of course, how could they be anything but shining examples of wifely excellence, especially considering the training Evelyn had given them before they moved away?

  When it came to her daughters, she believed herself to be an undeniable success at motherhood. Her son, unfortunately, was another story. Adding him into the equation threw off her results, but this was not her fault! Instead of trusting his mother’s wisdom, the young man completely ignored what she had taught him and held to a different opinion of what success looked like. When he ran off to pursue his own silly ideas instead of making a mark for himself in East Haven, it was easier for Evelyn to tuck away all mention of him underneath the many proud stories she had of her daughters. She acknowledged her son’s existence only when necessary.

  To ease the agony caused by the absence of her daughters, Evelyn never allowed the mistakes of a new bride to escape her notice. Young wives continually needed correcting, and she was quick to point out those corrections. She loved to demonstrate her extensive knowledge, and it invigorated her to think that this couple might move into the Colebrook house. She allowed herself to imagine an intimate, parent-like mentoring relationship between her and the young woman. Helping this fledgling couple would undoubtedly wipe away the ache in Evelyn’s heart. And of course, they would be forever grateful for the guidance she planned to give.

  Wrapping her shawl around her shoulders, Evelyn dreamed of this perfect scenario. She began scheming as she stepped out her front door, and she had nearly completed an entire domestic lesson plan by the time she marched into town. She must find Mr. Holden and learn all she could about these newlyweds, starting with whether or not they intended to rent the Colebrook house and when she could expect them.

  After she returned, she would finish working on her pantry. She had completely forgotten to get back to it yesterday, but she was not to blame. Since it rarely happened, it was always exciting when someone moved into town. Walking contently down the main street of East Haven, Evelyn Russell sifted through her almost forgotten plans to improve the Colebrook house, confident that her summer would be most interesting indeed!

  ELI

  Eli dipped his hands and knife into the water and washed away the sticky blood. He was grateful they were able to camp so close to a creek. Removing the pelt from a rabbit was messy work. The skin still needed to be scraped clean, but first he cut up the carcass so Ada could make a stew. He also detached the sinew from the legs of the rabbit and removed them from their protective sheath. After rinsing the ligaments, he set them aside to dry. He would make them into cord later, which could be used to sew the pelt. He scraped one of the leg bones clean and set it with the sinew. He planned to sharpen it into a tool that could push the cord through the hide as he sewed it into something useful. He then scraped the fat and connective tissue from the skin.

  Once finished, Eli washed himself and the rabbit pelt, which he placed on a log to dry. He was hungry. The stew would strengthen them, and he wanted to eat before starting the next unsavory step in the tanning process. Ada glanced up from the bubbling pot and scrunched her nose at him.

  “You should change,” she said. “It’s time for supper.” He glanced down at himself. He was splattered with more blood than he realized.

  “Sorry,” he apologized as he began to unbutton his shirt. Though the weather wasn’t warm enough for only an undershirt, he didn’t want to get a clean shirt yet. He planned on wearing the stained one later while tanning the rabbit skin.

  After eating, Eli helped Ada wash the dishes and put their camp in order. He added wood to the fire, knowing he would need the embers. As the fire quickened, he admired their little encampment. This was a comfortable place to stay. They had already been there for a day and a half; he hoped they could remain for at least two more.

  “You should sleep,” he suggested. Ada nodded, walked over to the lean-to, and slipped under a blanket. Sometimes it felt like they were playing house, but then reality would set in. This was not a game, and their lives depended on him remembering that. Ada looked better after eating, but Eli was convinced that a strong wind might blow her away. The outline of her collar bone was more defined than it used to be. Food was hard to come by, and they were only able to have meat once every few days. For the rest of their meals, they ate whatever plants they could find. Eli’s dad would have eventually taught him how to trap larger animals, but when they went hunting for deer, they had always brought a rifle. All he had now was the Bowie knife and the small paring knife from the cabin. Perhaps he could make a spear out of the larger blade, but for now he was working on another project. With warm stew filling his stomach, the spear could wait.

  Eli p
ut his shirt on and carried the paring knife, a spoon, and the pot over to the rabbit. It was only the fourth one he had snared since they had been hiding in the woods. Mostly, he caught squirrels, muskrats, and even mice. Not the best for eating, but when the choice was between that or ferns and dandelions, meat always won out. Using the knife and spoon, he removed the brain and put it into the pot. He added some water, and as he placed the pot among the coals, he thought about his dad. His father often spoke of man’s ties to the earth, and because of his deep faith, he seasoned his lessons with his love of God: “Creation is amazing, Eli. God gave us everything we need to survive right here on His glorious earth. You just have to look around to see how well He provides.”

  Being in the woods produced a bittersweet ache in Eli’s heart. He missed his dad, but the outdoors provided a continued connection to the man. It seemed as though his father was standing beside him, repeating the wisdom he had shared through the years: “This plant is safe to eat, but stay away from those mushrooms. Mark your snare site so you can find it later. Only take from the earth what you need; never waste any part of an animal. Wasteful people discard the organs, but our ancestors understood that the heart and liver nourish our bodies better than the flesh. Even the bones can be useful.” There was no limit to the helpful survival tips that William Noble whispered out from his son’s memories.

  Eli removed the pot from the coals. He mashed the hot water and brain into an oily tanning mixture. As the liquid cooled, he found a rough rock and buffed the pelt. Once the skin was soft and supple, he slowly rubbed half of the mixture into it. Another coating would be applied in the morning, after it had dried. Eli still had a jar from the cabin. He poured the rest of the liquid into it, screwed the lid on tight, and set it aside. Hoping to keep curious animals away from their camp, he carried the rabbit pelt downstream and hung it over the water between two trees.

 

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