Back To Our Beginning

by C. L. Scholey

  “Lucky would have warned us,” Clint argued.

  “Lucky is a pansy,” Tansy declared.

  She had him there. For all his size, Clint had never met a dog more chicken. In fact the dog would embarrass a chicken, hell, the dog would run from a chicken.

  “So hail to the butter,” Tansy stated and raised the jar high over her head. She then lowered her arm and let Rose dip her finger in and have the first taste. To Tansy’s delight the young girl closed her eyes and smiled.

  “That’s good,” Rose declared.

  “What should we put it on?” Tansy asked her.

  “Your flatbread, please,” Rose begged.

  “Flatbread it is.”

  That night with the help of everyone, dinner was indeed interesting. The tubers were mushy, much to Aidan’s embarrassment. Usually he wasn’t a bad cook, but Tansy had taken over the brunt of the cooking, leaving his hands free for other useful tasks. Aidan couldn’t seem to get his mind off the sickle. The ribs from the lion were taking form and he was always engulfed with a certain kind of euphoria when he created his own tools.

  The roots were overdone and almost unpalatable, but Shanie explained she had tripped at the fire. Only with Ethan’s help and the aid of his tongs were they able to retrieve any. Clint struck a deal with Tansy. If he brought her back a rabbit cleaned, skinned and gutted, he wanted her specifically to make rabbit stew and in return would work the hide and give it to her. Wanting to make warm winter slippers for Michaela, Tansy agreed.

  Clint and Cord not only returned with a large rabbit but a plump pheasant as well, that was turned on the spit by the watchful eyes of Emmy. Cord in turn kept a watchful eye on Emmy, making sure she didn’t burn it. By the time they finished cooking, they were all starving. Tansy added the tubers to the stew and what she could salvage from the burnt roots. All in all, it wasn’t a bad meal.

  Rose would have enjoyed just the flatbread with butter, but Tansy encouraged her to eat more of the juicy tender crisp pheasant. For dessert, Ethan and the children collected pinecones. When heated, the seeds were released and could be eaten roasted or raw. Leaning back with a pine needle between his teeth Clint looked over to Tansy.

  “The stew was great,” he told her, but from his thoughtful expression Tansy could tell he was thinking of something else. “You gonna make more butter tomorrow?”

  “I was planning on it,” Tansy said, she sat sipping a warm cup of tea with contentment.

  “Wake me before you go,” he told her. She told him she would do just that.

  “Or me,” Cord voiced. Clint scowled at him. “What? If something happens to Tansy all we’ll be eating will be mushy greens and burnt bulbs,” Cord declared defensively. Tansy laughed, amused, acknowledging his praise but noticed both Shanie and Aidan were blushing with embarrassment.

  “Hey, I tried,” Shanie said.

  “Stick to hunting,” Cord suggested in a teasing manner.

  Shanie threw a pinecone at him. Picking it up Cord looked at it thoughtfully. He would have liked to roast one but his jaw still ached, not that he would ever admit it. He had been grateful for the soft stew but chewed carefully. Cord tossed the pinecone back to Shanie.

  “Try cooking this. Maybe if you start small.”

  Instead of throwing it back at him, Shanie did cook it then made a point of thoroughly enjoying the roasted nuts.

  “Want one, Cord?” she began tauntingly. Shanie had seen Cord rub at his jaw earlier. She loved teasing in return.

  “No.”

  “Are you sure? I could make one just for you.”

  “No.” He clenched his teeth, glowering at her smug expression.

  Max, seeing the look on Cord’s face, immediately arose and brought Shanie the birthday stick he’d given her. Laughing, Shanie hugged the boy and waved it at Cord. Cord hid a smile at her taunting cheeky look; the girl had her mother’s tenacity, but he grumbled sternly to both children,

  “No hands on.”

  It was a favorite expression of Tansy’s and one Cord could sign to the child. Nodding curtly, Max climbed up on his bed and lay his head down. Not long after, all of the children were asleep after the long day of collecting nuts and wood.

  * * * *

  When Ethan felt positive Rose was in deep slumber in a low murmur he asked about her to Tansy. With a sad smile Tansy told the others she spent some quiet time with her and told the young girl of her concerns and suspicions.

  “How did she take it?” Ethan asked, his pitying eyes full of concern flashed to the slumbering girl.

  “Better than I thought she would. She maturely told me if something positive could happen from something so horrible, it might make her feel better. She said all Rourke ever did was take and it was about time he gave something back. She let me know how grateful she was to be here with all of us. But I could tell she was frightened.”

  “I hope everything works out all right,” Ethan said.

  “How can it be all right? Givin’ birth hurts like hell,” Clint snapped.

  “I realize sometimes men feel helpless when a woman gives birth, Clint. I know it’s in your nature to protect us from pain. But did Annie ever once tell you she regretted having Bess?” Tansy asked.

  “No,” Clint said thoughtfully; he smiled with fondness. “She told me Bess was the best thin’ in her life she ever created. Right after she had her, she was smilin’ and cryin’, happy. Tellin’ me how much she loved me. Bess was such a perfect baby. Little bitty hands and feet, fingernails even. Her head was so tiny, fit in my hand, tufts a silky black hair, my color hair. Big brown eyes jist like her mama, so sweet and innocent. Always smelled so wonderful, like sunshine and sweet treats,” Clint’s voice trailed off, he took a quick swipe at his eyes and coughed a few times.

  “Were you in a lot of pain when you had us, Mom?” Emmy asked Tansy, redirecting the conversation to help Clint compose himself.

  “It hurts to give birth, but once I held you, each of you, I forgot the pain.”

  “But Rose is so young,” Shanie said.

  “And so tiny,” Clint grumbled.

  “We’ll all have to be supportive. Make sure she eats well and gets plenty of rest and milk,” Tansy said.

  “Speaking of rest, I’m tired and I want to be up early to work on my sickle,” Aidan said. He rose to his feet, stretched and yawned taking Emmy with him; it was no secret the two were a couple and shared a bed now.

  “I need to be up early to milk a goat,” Tansy declared, also retiring for the night.

  The others soon departed leaving Cord and Clint by the fire alone.

  “Your face still hurt?” Clint asked a bit shamefully.

  “Hell yes,” Cord said, rubbing his jaw.

  “I pulled my punch.”

  “’Preciate it.”

  “We good?”

  Cord looked at Clint. A friend he’d had since birth. They’d fought before, hell, probably would again. “Sure we’re good.”

  Clint got to his feet also thinking about sleep. “We best go huntin’ again tomorrow. If Rose needs good food then we best catch it.”

  “Only if Tansy is the one cooking it,” Cord remarked. They both chuckled.

  * * * *

  All too soon, summer gave way to autumn and the majestic beauty surrounded them in splendor. They drank their fill of the resplendent sight as they were unable to hang pictures in the mine, although they had delegated an area for the children in the lower section to draw on the mine walls with burnt wood. Max proved to be very talented in this area. With Ethan’s help, it soon became obvious Max would prove to be an exceptional artist.

  Emmy and Shanie discovered though their talents didn’t lie with cooking, they were adept at other things. Emmy was able to turn hides not only into serviceable clothing but well-made and even stylish. She could sew on small patterns of tiny cut hollowed bones or glue shells, claws, teeth, quills and colorful small stones into intricate designs. She excelled in making the many baskets they used for s
toring personal belongings and food. She fashioned a waterproof one for personal needs during the night, when darkness made wandering too far away dangerous. The younger children were afraid to venture down to the latrine alone in the dead of night.

  Shanie was a remarkable hunter; her aim was accurate and growing in strength. Penetrating a hide with a bow and arrow or hard cast spear required skill. She was able to cure hides and traded them to Emmy in exchange for Emmy making Shanie an outfit of her own. Shanie had been able to make herself and Michaela small outfits, but she found she didn’t have the patience to try her hand at something larger. Most of the men came to Emmy and Tansy with gifts in exchange for tailoring articles of clothing. Though Tansy was more than happy to help when she could, she found she had her hands full with the cooking, the children and basically running the mine. She made sure everyone ate well and healthily; she became mediator with Ethan’s assistance, but also doctor and sometimes social worker. The skill she was acquiring with vegetation was invaluable.

  Resigned to the fact she was going to have a baby, Rose was moody at times. Tansy spent hours reassuring the young girl she wasn’t alone. Everyone loved her and cared for her and would help her take care of her baby. Because of the way she conceived, Rose expressed concern her baby would be looked on as something unwanted, or worse with contempt, because of what the father had been. Tansy soothed her fears; the baby was Rose’s, not Rourke’s. It would be in possession of all of her fine admirable qualities. Rose’s decision to tell the child of its father would remain her choice, no one else’s; the adults had sworn secrecy and promised to await Rose’s decision. The baby would be loved; it would be a welcome wanted addition.

  Emmy had been teaching Rose how to make baby clothes. They spent hours together on blankets and quietly talking. During one of their times together, Rose asked Emmy about Aidan. She was curious why a woman would seek out the attention of a man, her own experience having been so harsh and hurtful.

  “Do you like him?” Rose asked shyly.

  “Yes,” Emmy said and smiled.

  “He’s so big,” Rose said, casting a sidelong glance in Aidan’s direction, even Rourke seemed small in comparison and Rose had thought he’d been huge.

  “Yes, he’s big and strong, but he’s gentle and caring. He uses his strength when he needs it and only for helpful things.”

  “Rourke was always mean to us. When he first found us, I thought we were saved. But he was cruel right from the beginning.”

  “The men here aren’t like Rourke.”

  “No, they’re not,” Rose replied. Her fingers fondled the rabbit’s foot Cord gave her for good luck. She smiled, remembering Clint said if that was all it took for luck she could have all the feet off all the rabbits he caught.

  “One day when you’re older...”

  Rose rubbed her tummy. “My baby will never have a father.”

  “Of course he will. Not only will he have all the men here, he’ll have a wonderful Uncle Max.”

  Rose had to agree with her. Every one of the men went to extraordinary lengths to help her overcome her fear of them. They all promised to protect her and her baby. They were teaching Max to hunt and fish alongside Ricky. Every day, Rose thanked heaven for sending the tornado that led the three men to her and her brother. Without them, they would’ve soon perished.

  * * * *

  Tansy sat outside the mine with a basket in front of her containing walnuts. She and the children had collected the green husks from the ground. After smashing them open, they revealed another shell that was soon cracked to reveal the inner nut. Using a small sharpened stick, Tansy painstakingly removed every bit before starting on the next. They would be stored along with everything else for the long winter months to come. If they came. The weather remained unseasonably warm.

  Tansy looked up as Cord, Ethan and Clint trailed by the two boys headed toward their small stream; they were returning from the lake. She smiled as Max dragged a largemouth bass; she assumed he must have caught it. He stopped in front of her.

  “Did you catch this?” Tansy signed.

  “Yes. Fish strong, but I stronger.”

  Tansy laughed and tousling his hair prepared to take the fish, but Max stepped back. Confused, Tansy looked at him. “Don’t you want me to clean the fish?”

  “No. I can myself. Clint teach me,” Max signed proudly, clutching the little bone knife Aidan had made him then trailed after Clint and the others.

  Chuckling, Tansy stood up and stretched. Her back ached from sitting on the hard rock for so long and from being bent over her task. She went inside to check on dinner. The previous night, Aidan had killed a beaver. Aidan assured her beaver were tasty including the tail. Tansy was getting used to eating strange foods. To her, the most unusual yet had to have been the llama, or perhaps the camel. The llamas hide was beautiful and thick and though it took some bartering skill, Tansy had acquired it. She washed it then brushed the fur until it was silky soft. She wanted to use it to line the cradle Clint was making for the new baby.

  Tansy stood up after turning the small beaver on the spit and went to check on the turtle soup. Clint had brought her the first large turtle after removing its head and then gutting it, he knew Tansy would be more receptive to the idea if she didn’t have to clean it first. After trying turtle once she decided she enjoyed the rich stew, mixed with wild carrot, chives, butter, fat, broth, a turtle egg and dried onions and garlic with salt, pepper and marjoram for taste. She thickened it with the flour made from the inner bark of a tree or comfrey that was rich in starch, stirred in with dry sherry or wine. The shell proved to be very useful as well and the men commandeered one for shaving.

  “Smells good, Vinegar,” Cord said. He dumped his cleaned fish on a small sturdy table he and the others made and strolled over to her.

  “Tastes good, too.” She held up the wooden spoon with the soup and offered him some. Cord closed his eyes and Tansy thought he looked like he was tasting heaven.

  “Clint’s granny used to make this if Clint and I could catch the turtle.”

  “You helped them out a lot didn’t you?”

  “Sure, he’s my best friend.”

  “I want some too, please.” Michaela came up to Cord and offered up her arms. The first time she’d done that everyone had been amazed. No one more so than Cord. But once he became used to it Cord seemed rather pleased by Michaela’s acceptance.

  “You don’t want none of that,” Cord said, picking up the small child. She rubbed her nose against his cheek.

  “Please.”

  Looking theatrically exasperated Cord gave in, making Michaela laugh. “That’s yummy,” she said, taking a taste after Cord had blown on it, testing it first to make certain it was cooled.

  “It’s also finished, so why don’t you and Cord go wash up and tell the others it’s time for dinner,” Tansy said.

  Grasping Michaela to his chest Cord ran from the warm fire while Michaela howled with laughter, the delightful sound ringing throughout the mine. The child recently turned four. Tansy realized she would soon be able to add another year. It wouldn’t be long before they could count a full year since the world ended and began again.

  * * * *

  With morning came a decidedly cooler temperature that found everyone out collecting wheat and grains. It was a tedious process and time-consuming but would be worth the effort in the colder winter months. They also found more edible nuts they stashed away inside the mine. Tansy liked to grind them to mush and add them to stews or stuffing.

  Soon after the grains, came apples and pears collected and stored in large amounts. Tansy used more jars to make applesauce that were stored in the small mine tunnel. She tried her hand at apple and pear juice. They found pumpkins, which Tansy cooked and stored, or made into a favorite thick hearty autumn soup of goat’s milk, butter, salt, dried onions and water. As a treat, Tansy roasted pumpkin seeds over their barbeque-type oven with butter and salt.

  It was apparent the
pumpkin patch derived from being un-harvested the previous year, a number of the large squash having survived the storms. Taking a cue from Mother Nature, many of the pumpkins were smashed, handfuls of the seeds pushed back into the earth nearer to the mine, ever hopeful they would be able to receive their gift of growth once more next fall.

  Food was dried and stored away, they rendered fat in water; some was used for their lanterns, the rest stored away in animal intestines or used in pemmican. Flour was milled as best as they could by hand, taking turns at grinding the grains in hard wooden bowls daily for its needed sustenance. They worked hard and relied on wits and ingenuity to provide for themselves while watching out for predators, animals and Mother Nature’s furious storms.

  Although the storms seemed to have lessened in regularity, they still raged with unpredictability and deadly force. After one of these storms, the men came across a dead elephant with enormous tusks. They chased away hyenas long enough to retrieve the tusks, teeth and a few choice bones that would prove helpful for crafting into tools.

  They had countless projects lined up for the winter knowing they could be trapped inside the mine for weeks or perhaps months. The hunters brought back a huge basketball net they found and put it near the bottom of the mine away from the goat. Emmy made them a deerskin ball and filled it with scraps of the old clothes they no longer used. Not exactly basketball, as the ball could not be bounced or dribbled, they improvised. They made their own game of taking so many steps before throwing the ball off to another player. The men tackled one another when not playing with the women. Although, they were careful, not wanting to injure a needed hunter. The rules changed when the women and children were involved lest someone got hurt.

  Cord made a huge bulls-eye on an old hide and hung it up stretched over a stand made of logs. He colored it with a burnt piece of charcoal from a fire. They would be able to teach the children how to aim while keeping their own skills toned. On another piece of hide, Ethan drew the likeness of a deer, labeling vital spots to aim for. Aidan returned one day with a bowling ball. They fashioned crude pins, which they took turns knocking down with great enthusiasm. There was also a horseshoe pit they constructed. The old horseshoes were bent and rusted, but the game was always interesting and sometimes the challenges were met with intensity when gambling occurred.