“That hurts!”
Tansy went still. Her face lifted to stare at the boy. She shrieked and hugged him tightly. Ethan bolted awake and seeing Tansy stretched over his son, he thought the worst happened, his son was dead. But through his terror, he registered movements and howls of protest. His son was not dead; in fact, he was kicking up a storm as Tansy hugged him and spread small kisses on his face.
“Tansy?”
She turned and looked at Ethan, tears streaming down her tired, drawn face. “He’s alive, his fever’s broke.”
Ethan grabbed up his son in a crushing embrace.
“Daddy,” Ricky wailed, trying to fend off the dozen quick kisses his father spread over his pale face and neck.
“You hear that?” Ethan cried proudly, tearfully. “That’s my brave strong boy.”
Soon everyone was awake and joyful, but Tansy cautioned them. Ricky would need plenty of rest and good food if he was to return to health.
“He can have my maple syrup in his tea,” Michaela offered. She had been devastated her best friend couldn’t get up and play with her. She had offered him her treasured doll if he would just wake up and tell more knock-knock jokes. Tansy hugged her and told her how proud she was of her.
“Don’t you worry none, Mike; we’ll make sure he gets everythin’ he needs,” Clint promised, he hugged her affectionately.
“Thank you for helping me,” Ricky whispered up to Cord. “I hope you get another medal, General, for bravery.”
Cord sat wide-eyed. He thought the child had been out cold when they saved him. Ricky went on to tell how Emmy then Clint helped hold him, but it was Cord who had gotten the monster off of him, that Cord had been attacked saving him. The boy looked up with wide adoring eyes toward the large man and smiled. Then to Cord’s amazement Ricky held out his mother’s doll to him. He said his mother must have sent him in time to save him. Feeling uncharacteristically choked up, Cord told the boy to hang onto the doll for him. He might need it later; he then got up and left the mine.
Clint sat grinning. He knew Cord was overwhelmed and embarrassed. Clint knew this was a first for Cord. Saving Emmy had been spur-of-the-moment confusion; he had been unaware he might actually be injured, but Cord knew the snake might attack him, there had been no doubt, and he helped the boy anyway.
Clint wasn’t the only one to be surprised; Shanie admitted to herself she had been relieved when both Clint and Cord had shown up to offer aid when the snake attacked. Shanie had felt helpless, and frustrated, unable to leave Michaela alone and vulnerable against God knew what else, and unable to help her big sister. The fact that Cord could actually save a life had Shanie thinking. That Cord had saved Emmy meant nothing to Shanie; she loved her sister of course, but felt there might have been an ulterior motive involved behind his thinking at the time. She knew, somewhat surprised, there was no motive involved this time. Cord saved Ricky just because, and had been injured as a result. He never expressed regret for helping the child; he had even taken his turn at watching over Ricky and washing him with a cool cloth. For all sakes and purposes he seemed as worried about Ricky as the rest of them.
“Well damn,” Clint said laughing. “There may jist be hope for him yet.”
“Potty mouth,” Michaela told him sternly and wagged a finger at him, looking cross. It was a perfect imitation of her mother and Clint laughed again. He leaned over to pick up Michaela and tickled her until she giggled.
* * * *
“That’s an anaconda all right,” Ethan said. He stuck a foot out and nudged at the giant snake.
“But how?” Aidan asked. “It couldn’t have swum here.”
“Tansy says it’s the animals from zoos,” Clint offered.
“She must be right. Anacondas aren’t indigenous to this region or even this country,” Ethan agreed.
“Well now, that makes sense of the elephants and the tiger, but hell, an anaconda. What’s next?” Aidan asked.
“I killed a polar bear farther south of here,” Cord said.
“You can understand the ramifications of this, I expect?” Ethan asked the small group of men as they turned and began walking back to the mine.
“Well damn, rams too? Well hell why not?” Clint said wide-eyed nodding seriously.
Ethan looked at Cord questioningly, who shook his head in a negative way. “What I mean is,” Ethan started slowly, searching for universal words, “we could face the potential of possibly encountering other foreign inhabitants alien to our country.”
“Aliens?” Clint gasped, stopping dead in his tracks and really looking terrified.
“No, stupid. He means hyenas, rhinos or pandas, monkeys and gorillas, maybe even a camel,” Cord said, smacking Clint on the back of the head.
“Well that’s good news,” Clint said. “I don’t think we got any weapons left to fight off any aliens.”
Rolling his eyes, Ethan hurried on; he’d wanted to see the snake they claimed was an anaconda. It had been too difficult to believe. But there it lay. Shaken, Ethan wondered if there were more, as if they didn’t have enough going against them already. What other beast would come looking for food in their area or a mine? They would need to be even more cautious.
When the men returned, Tansy was baking a type of flatbread. In the spring when Clint had found a nest of duck eggs, Michaela had cried for bread to dip into her egg. She had a point after all, how could it be a dippy egg if you had nothing to dip into it? Tansy had found some old grains and seeds still left in a field and set to work. She fashioned herself a mortar and pestle grinding the mixture down to flour. After mixing the flour with water, she kneaded it into dough and cooked it over the fire wrapped around a cleaned branch. It wasn’t the same as fresh white bread, but it was their first taste of something new and it was well received. Many more ducks and geese lost their eggs after that and so did other fowl along with their own lives. There were also turtle eggs they found dug into the sandy parts near the stream and lakes.
Tansy made a point of checking the fields often for the return of more grain. They would need to store some for the long winter. The flour was welcome as a thickener in the stews Tansy made. It was unfortunate, but Tansy realized wheat and grains were harvested in the fall and they weren’t likely to find more until then. She was looking for a substitute.
Tansy handed Cord a bowl of stew with a freshly cooked piece of flatbread. He accepted it and stirred the bread into the bowl lifting up a chunk of meat. As his mouth closed around the food he groaned in content.
“This is good,” Cord said and ate heartily.
Tansy smiled at him and handed Clint a bowl as he sat down; she then proceeded to retrieve bowls for Ethan and Aidan.
“You don’t need to wait on us,” Aidan told her, feeling a bit embarrassed.
Tansy looked at him thoughtfully then shrugged. “I guess old habits die hard. Besides, it’s not really waiting on you, it’s just being courteous. We’ve all had a strenuous day. Besides, I’m not busy.”
“Ain’t you eatin’?” Clint asked, grabbing up another piece of the bread.
Though the day had been hot, the mine always offered a cool shelter and Clint always enjoyed Tansy’s rabbit stew thickened with comfrey and grains, mixed with wild onions, chives, roots, garlic, wild herbs and any vegetables she could find.
“We already ate, and don’t worry Ethan, Ricky had a good appetite and ate well before he went to sleep.”
Ethan went directly to his son upon arriving at the mine. He placed his hand on his son’s brow finding it cool and not feverish. He smiled at the berry stains on his lips and the doll clutched in his arms. The boy’s cheeks glowed pink from health and not red with heat. The shock of losing his mother had regressed Ricky emotionally. As time passed, the child balanced between immature when wanting to play with Mike, his only playmate, to wanting to act his eight years. The attack of the anaconda once more set him back. Ethan knew it would take time, but at least Ricky had time. Ethan wouldn’t push. Etha
n glanced gratefully at Tansy then settled himself and ate with enthusiasm.
“I like having a beautiful woman wait on me,” Ethan informed her and the group in general. He helped himself to a healthy handful of blueberries that were picked that morning.
Tansy sat down with them to talk after pouring some tea. She and the girls had been busy that day with Ricky. Unable to move about, he needed to be entertained, his spirits kept high and they all took turns. His bandaging needed to be cleaned and changed to keep infection from setting in. They made certain to push boiled cool water at him to drink. Tansy watched his skin, pinching gently at it for elasticity and his lips for chapping, to make certain he remained hydrated. They washed out laundry at the stream, Ricky’s being a priority; the cleaner and more sterile his environment and surrounding area was, the better his chances were. They’d gone foraging for the ingredients they needed for the stew. The others retired early and it was just the five of them who talked.
“I was thinking,” Tansy said, turning her cup in her hand.
“Not a good idea,” Cord told her. Tansy threw one of Ricky’s toy cars at him.
“What were you thinking?” Ethan encouraged her.
“I was thinking maybe we should go back into town again on a salvage mission.”
“More booze,” Cord whooped.
“No,” Tansy said glaring, “I meant I would like to see if there’s anything left in a bookstore, or maybe some of the library is still standing.”
“You want some of them romance novels?” Cord asked, leering suggestively.
“No, I don’t want romance novels,” Tansy snapped.
“Because if you do, we could always make our own,” Cord taunted and winked at her, this time a toy car came flying at him from Clint’s direction.
“It’s a long walk, Tansy. Ricky couldn’t go, and you remember what happened the last time we left the girls alone with the children. It’s dangerous to travel too far from the protection of the mine with the storms so unpredictable. The weather seems to change so quickly one moment to the next, from almost unbearable heat to somewhat colder torrential downpours and wicked tornadoes. Even the hail comes down hard enough to cause serious injury, or death and maiming in the smaller animals. When the lightning strikes it hits like some kind of laser weapon. And it doesn’t even hit the highest points; it goes after whatever is moving. Remember the char-broiled caribou half-submerged in the swamp? We barely made it back from town before the tornado hit last time,” Ethan reminded her.
“Since you’ve already been to town, I’m certain you’re aware of a few safety nets that you must’ve been watching for and marked. We can stick to that route. Besides, now that there’s another man here, maybe Cord could stay with one of you and the girls and Ricky then me and two others could go,” Tansy suggested.
“No,” Clint stated.
“Well why not?” Tansy asked with some surprise.
“Too dangerous. Hell, look at what attacked us. Some damned snake on steroids.”
“But I need to find more books on herbs and preparing meat for the winter. We can’t just keep eating dried meat, sausages and pemmican all winter; we need to find a way to freeze it, or learn how to keep meat fresh for a reasonable amount of time. That one cold tunnel we’ve been using only keeps things fresh for a few days before we need to dry the meat before it spoils. We need some ideas. I need to make preserves. I don’t know how to make preserves. My last attempt at freezer jam was a disaster,” Tansy pleaded, trying to make a point.
“You cook real nice,” Clint told her.
“But all of this has taken time, lots of time. I need more ideas. You used to hunt before, that isn’t new to you; this is so different for me. I had cookbooks and internet, other people to share new recipes, grocery stores, farmers markets. Never once have I had in the past a conversation with friends or colleagues on the usefulness on drying fungi. I can’t imagine what they would say if I informed them I can make a coffee substitute from nut grass.
“When I worked late, it was takeout, fast food or a twenty-four hour supermarket at my disposal with frozen foods or readymade dishes, TV dinners, drive through. Now I rummage amidst the woods like my ancestors must have, my very distant ancestors,” Tansy told him frustrated, becoming agitated with her thoughts.
“Okay wait,” Ethan said holding up his hands. “Tansy has a point. Maybe we could salvage more from town.”
Clint glared at him.
“Well, Tansy ain’t goin’.”
“Now, you look here,” Tansy began, jumping up, hands on her hips, tired of his chauvinism.
“No, you look here,” Clint jumped up as well and stood towering over her, his own hands firmly planted on his hips. “You ain’t goin’, it’s too dangerous; I’m puttin’ my foot down.”
“So am I!”
So saying, Tansy then effectively put her foot down; in fact she stomped it down, right onto Clint’s toes.
* * * *
The next morning bright and early near dawn, Tansy walked quietly between an amused Aidan and a slightly limping Clint. Tansy told him the night before that she decided she was not going to argue with him. She was a grown woman; Clint was not her boss and besides she knew what she was looking for, and if need be she would venture off alone. Clint mumbled he could read and sat rubbing at his bruised toes. He then informed her for such a small woman she weighed a lot.
“Imagine that, even without the germs,” she had said and glared at him.
Tansy was surprised as she gazed around at the devastation of the town. They reached it before noon and walked while eating dried venison. The tornadoes had wreaked havoc on the small town, it lay in ruins. Soon enough there would be no evidence it even existed.
To Clint’s dismay the liquor store was now a pile of rubble. But with Tansy and Aidan’s scrutiny they were able to help find him a few of the plastic bottles that had flown free.
Clint held, to his delight, a particularly coveted bottle of cherry brandy, his favorite. He found it nestled in a tree branch untouched. He cracked open the seal and took a deep swallow. Tansy cast him an assessing look, eyes wide. Clint smiled and informed her it was strictly for medicinal purposes, shaking his injured foot for good measure. Shrugging, Tansy continued on toward another pile of rubble. She found a ball of string and put it inside her backpack. Aidan found a lighter with half the fluid still left and pocketed it after first making sure it worked. As they moved farther into town, Tansy realized not much was to be had. Mostly everything was destroyed and useless. Clint reached down and picked up a crumpled five dollar bill, fingering it with a look of sadness.
“Sure, now I find money, jist when it’s useless,” he grumbled; squeezing it further, he prepared to toss it.
“Save it,” Aidan told him. “It’ll make good tinder.”
Clint stuffed the money into his pocket. They crawled around debris and refrained from looking into dark places. They were sure never to let each other stray too far away.
The vegetation was overgrown in some places and non-existent in others. It gave them an odd feeling of living in some type of disturbing reality show.
“Oh, look,” Tansy exclaimed a bit breathlessly.
Seeing the treasure, she cupped in her hands Aidan smiled indulgently. It was a bottle of perfume. Tansy sprayed it on herself and smiled delightedly as a bouquet of lilacs drifted to her nose.
“You’re gonna get eat alive,” Clint told her matter-of-factly.
“I’ll put up with the bugs,” she declared.
“It was Cord I was talkin’ ’bout.”
Tansy chuckled and tucked the bottle of perfume into her backpack. To Tansy’s delight, Aidan found a bag of unopened razors. She gushed over them, thanking him profusely when he handed them to her, asking only that she share with the others. Tansy was ecstatic; the sharp edge of a knife was difficult to maneuver over the backs of her legs and often left her with small nicks. Clint had told her she should just give in and let the hair grow,
Shanie had.
“Shanie has white-blond hair,” Tansy railed at him, not like her own light brown hair. Tansy stuffed the razors into her backpack and kissed Aidan’s cheek. His smile radiated as he cast a glance at Clint who glowered in return. Clint determined to find her a gift of his own, stalked away farther into town, Tansy and Aidan followed.
“Wow,” Tansy said. Curiosity overcoming him, Clint strolled closer and looked over her shoulder.
“Wow,” he voiced as well. Clint reached out and took from her a large hunting knife. The sheath was almost destroyed but the knife had fared much better. The blade was twelve inches long with a mud caked bone handle that clearly resembled ivory with various animal carvings engraved. Once cleaned and sharpened it would be beautiful, and deadly.
“Damn, Tansy, whatcha want to trade for it?” Clint asked excitedly.
“Don’t be silly, Clint; I’m not going to trade you for this,” Tansy told him. Clint looked so heartbroken she felt her own heart hurt at the misunderstanding. Clint handed the knife back but Tansy didn’t take it. He looked at her puzzled. “What I meant was, you’ve saved my life and my children’s so often if I can give you something to make you happy, I’ll do it gladly.”
Tansy smiled up into his handsome face that now wore the look of childish delight she loved so much. She strode off to look for other treasures.
“Well damn,” Clint muttered thoughtfully as she moved away. “If I’d knowed she felt that way I woulda asked for sex instead.”
“Ah well, you snooze you lose,” Aidan said and clapped him on the back.
Back To Our Beginning Page 25
