by B Button
“Come on, where are you?” I muttered as I turned in a slow circle and looked around. Between turning and the fresh air, another wave of woozy rode through my head. I’d never breathed such air before. It smelled sweet. I'd never smelled sweet air. I was used to smelly air that burned my nose and my throat.
Suddenly, I heard something else; the wail of a baby made me forget about the sweet air.
“What?” I said. I walked toward where I thought the sound was coming from. My legs worked and my head had mostly cleared, but I thought I must be hearing things.
But the cry, scream really, continued. Something was wrong.
I stepped into a thicker patch of trees, not ready for the quick change of light from bright to shadow. I couldn’t see well, but I kept moving. I thought I was getting closer.
When my eyes had adjusted and I could see in between the shadows, it was obvious that I'd walked right into trouble.
Something—a wolf or wild dog-like creature—looked up at me with a foamy snarl and eyes that belonged more to a monster than pet. Underneath the drops of drool that fell from its mouth, lay a bundled-up and squirming baby, the only part of which I could make out was a tuft of thick black hair. I hadn't been around many babies and I'd never seen a wolf before.
“Yeah, this is hell,” I said quietly.
But that didn’t make sense. Nothing made sense, but the reality was that I was in the woods somewhere about to see a baby get eaten by a huge and hungry wolf. I didn't think this was in the picture on the clock.
The creature squinted as it looked at me and then at the small noisy thing at its feet. I moved a step in the opposite direction, not to run away, but to get the wolf to chase me instead of eat the baby. I didn't know a thing about the animal, but I knew I could run and the baby couldn't. The wolf smirked and then looked back at the loud, but easily accessible lump on the ground.
“Hey, I don’t think so. You need to come after me. I’m a much bigger meal.”
The next few seconds, as it thought about what to do, I bit at the inside of my cheeks. I wanted to run, but if it didn’t follow, I wouldn’t be able to help the baby. And if it did follow, I might not make it far, still not able to help. I thought about charging at it, too, but I had no idea which way was the best.
The wolf looked up again, snarled and bared its ugly sharp teeth. I could see that it’d made up its mind; it was going for the baby.
“No!” I screamed as its head lowered and it took some of the bundle into its mouth. The wolf ignored me.
I had no idea what I was doing, but I picked up something at my feet that happened to be a rock, and I started running toward the beast. I was probably screaming or yelling, but the only sound I could hear was the imaginary noises in my head of bone and muscle crunching and blood gushing.
When I was only a yard or so away, I lifted the rock and threw hard. I managed a direct blow to the wolf’s head, missing the baby completely.
The beast looked at me, its eyes crossed then rolled back. Finally, it keeled over and fell either into death or unconsciousness. I didn’t wait to find out, but reached for the now bloody and screaming bundle and took off in the other direction. Wherever that was.
*****
I hurried through the clearing I’d been in earlier, then into another patch of wooded forest. The small path I found wasn’t well worn and my footing wasn’t stable but I kept going, focusing on not dropping the baby. I’d never gone through a forest before. I knew I had to find someone to help with the wounds quickly, or some way to clean them myself. Even if I found water, though, there’d be no guarantee that it was clean. I didn’t have any filters with me and wherever I was, there was no place that that had water you should use without filtering it first. Maybe I could find someone with filters.
It seemed like I’d been running for a long time and hadn’t found one person or one house. I’d heard lots of birds and other strange noises, but I didn’t see any other wolves. Everything was so different than anything I'd ever seen that even upturned trees startled me. Where were the cows and horses and all the people?
The baby, who I hadn’t even looked at since picking it up, started crying loudly. I had no idea what to do. I’d never even held a baby. Ever.
I crouched down to the ground and peeled away some of the bloody wrap.
He was small, couldn’t be very old, but he had chubby cheeks.
There was a lot of blood, but not as much as I thought there would be. I tore off a small strip from my black Govment-issued t-shirt and spat on it.
“If I get caught, I'm going to get fined for tearing this shirt,” I said.
The baby’s dark eyes sort of focused on my face as I spoke, and his crying calmed which was a huge relief. I didn’t know what to do with a non-crying baby; a crying one was scary.
My face muscles were twitching with nervousness as I wiped the blood from his little body. I said, “Who would leave a brand new baby out here for the animals?”
He didn’t answer.
“That’s the only place it got you,” I said as I looked at the bite mark on his arm. It wasn’t pretty, but I thought it would be much worse. The teeth broke the skin and went in deep, but didn’t tear it any further. “You got lucky.”
Soon, the baby wasn’t clean so much as he was just less bloody. He was still grimy and the wound needed a thorough cleaning and a healthy dose of antibacterial, but the spit-bath would have to do for now.
“Let’s see if we can stop the bleeding,” I said as I tore another strip from my shirt, my showing midriff would be more trouble than just a fine, but I didn't know what else to do. I wrapped the strip around his little arm and tied, but not too tightly.
I didn’t have anything else, so I turned the burlap wrap to the other side and re-bundled him.
I stood and looked around. I had no idea what to do or where to go. I even hoped I’d run into a Govment officer I could give the baby to. He’d punish me for my shirt, but at least he could take care of the baby.
Panic made my mouth taste sour. How did I get here? How do I get home?
“Where are we? Where am I? Who are you?”
Suddenly, I wanted my mom more than I could ever remember.
“I don’t suppose it matters. We need to get moving.”
Again, we took off through the unfamiliar forest.
*****
I’d never seen so much green or such clear skies and I didn't like it as much as I thought I would. I felt lost and alone. Chigo was crowded with people and rows of houses. There were cars everywhere and the sky was never clear, but I was never really alone. As I hiked on I began to wonder if I’d been put at the end of the earth and would never see another person again.
I’d have to figure out how to take care of the baby. I’d have to figure out how to take care of myself. What would I eat? What would I feed the baby? I didn’t know what babies ate besides milk.
I had no idea what else to do but keep walking.
On the other side of yet another green hill, I saw a house. It was small and old and alone on the hill but it was a house.
“Come on,” I said as held on tight and ran to the front door.
I pounded. “Hello! Hello! Anyone there?”
There was no answer.
“Oh, come on.” I knocked again with no better result. “Someone, help!”
I was tired, hot, thirsty, scared. I didn’t know how to care for his wounds. What if he died? What if his injury became so infected that he died a slow death? Would it have been better to leave him for the wolf? No. No.
"Don't you dare die,” I said to him.
I checked the knob, which was actually more like a wooden latch. “It’s unlocked. I don’t think they’ll mind if we go in, do you?”
I pushed open the door and stepped into the one room house. It was dark inside. There were two small glass-less windows on the back wall but they didn't let in much light. I left the door open and looked around for a lamp. There seemed to be no electri
city and the furniture looked like it had all been hand-made. I’d heard about people in Chigo who couldn’t afford the Govment electricity, so they had to find other ways to say warm and see when it was dark.
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.
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.
