Weathering Storms

by Taborri Walker

  Peter looked at Florence, she just nodded curtly. He noticed scratches on her cheek and a red spot on her forehead. “Thou wert attacked?”

  “Not truly. The child was flailing wildly and in attempts to restrain did receive the tiny wounds. Is all part and parcel of tending victims of violence.”

  “Punishment shall be taken out of the camp for now,” This decision was not one he’d ever dreamed of doing. “Make no attempt to move the child from this room until she be mickle healed.”

  Early the morning of the tenth day the women realized they just had to wash her hair; bugs were seen crawling on the strands, particularly where the blood was. It wasn’t quite time for the first meal, breaking the fast of the night, but Beulah sent for Florence a bit early, making sure Grace and Sarah were there too even though Ruth and Hannah had just come in as the tower guards changed. This was a big work, here.

  “Keep her wrapped in the blanket but needs be flat on the mattress,” Beulah had done this a number of times in her life; it was nothing, really but with this poor child so fearful, more than two pair of hands were a necessity!

  “Hannah, the stool and hold the Lakin’s neck. Prop elbows on your knees so your arms will not tire. Ruth, pour the warm water over her hair and into the bucket.”

  “I have the cheese cloth,” Florence snapped out the material. “You and I hold it over the bucket to catch the insects as they are rinsed out, Beulah.”

  As long as the water stayed at the back of her head and below her ears, the patient seemed fine. The bugs fought against losing their meal but died under the heat of the water, the drowning or fingers snatching as they emerged. The cloth went out the window, bugs wrapped for disposal, and positions were shifted.

  “Ruth, you hold now, Hannah, tilt her head so the water does not flow down her face.” Florence pulled the bowl of the mixture used to wash hair. The congregation had purchased as many bars of soap possible; almost a whole wagon had been soaps of all kinds. When the soap was dissolved in boiling rain water and cooled, the women added eggs, borax and well-strained strong herbal teas to the mix and had a fairly good shampoo.

  “Pour slowly now,” Beulah started to gently rub fingers in her scalp to loosen the hair from the grip blood and dirt held.

  Letting out a shriek that startled all the women into falling over backwards, the girl on the bed started batting with both hands together, trying to lift her head.

  “We need more strength to hold her,” Grace gasped as she tried to pin the small body. Florence looked out the window and sure enough, there was a Monitor standing not far off, watching all the activity around him. “Monitor Ezra!” she called out. “Come quickly! We hath need of thy God-given strength!”

  The man bolted, and moments later burst into the room.

  “Here, take the lass’s hands – we doth not know why she keeps them together but the struggle is mighty! We must,” Beulah helped him get hands around her wrists and pull her arms down as she howled, “wash her hair for insects be nesting in the reechy mess.”

  The man kept her hands together, pressed against her thighs and hung on as the women worked fast.

  “Thou believest she hath been tortured?” he grunted as seizures began bucking him about too.

  “Aye, for the wounds all about, wrists and ankles too as if clapped in irons.”

  “Let us get this done, then,” Ezra instructed roughly. “If the child is thinking she is in danger again, then we must hurry to release her.”

  They shampooed three times to get all the muck out and then Beulah and Florence pushed her to a sitting up position while Hannah started toweling her hair. Sesha fell forward more, so the Monitor moved her hands down her legs and that set off the worst reaction yet.

  It surprised and horrified the group when the slight body erupted over the edge, hitting the floor screaming before they could react, but Beulah had Sesha in her arms a moment later as she howled, thrashing wildly. The girl managed to pull away and scrambled frantically until she hit the wall, a corner. Reaching up, Sesha clawed at the wall wildly, tearing her fingernails off and making her fingers bleed.

  In a moment of inspiration, Monitor Ezra snatched the blankets off the bed and threw them over her form.

  “Tell her to hide, she cannot be found,” he ordered, and both Grace and Beulah did while the other women brought other linens and dropped the pile on top of her.

  It did the trick. Her patient seemed to collapse but continued to weep horribly. The screaming ceased, and Sarah pulled the curtains over the window, then added the pillows on the pile to muffle the noise.

  “Give us time to let her cease,” Beulah requested. “I know ‘tis time for breaking of fast, but the waif needs the women gathered here. We must clean the mess,” for the rinse water was spilled and all their dresses were wet. “If thou woulds’t make instance to the Reverend, would be with much gratitude from us.”

  “Perchance the Most Holy Lord Reverend may come later and see?” Ezra put his hand on the knob. His clothes too were wet and rumpled; change would have to be made after speaking to the Shepherd of this Flock.

  “Perchance.” Beulah nodded, settling down by the pile of linens, listening to the whimpering, muffled but there.

  He’d almost exited but turned back. “Monitor Titus and Seth do tell tales of days upon the great sailing ships… t’was a different form of Strappado used on prisoners, both for torture and delight of the captors. Wrists, ankles were ironed and chained together, but in front of the wretch, then attached to the great poles used to fish for the ocean’s large bounty. The stranger would be dropped o’erboard into the sea and drug, lifted up, dipped o’er and o’er.” The young man had to take a deep breath to go on.

  “Betimes when brought up woulds’t be bites upon the body, the victim yet alive whist sharks did partake. Other times the head be bitten off at once and yet others no injury ‘sides near drown and all limbs out of place for the jerking. Mayhap,” he lifted his face towards the pile, then turned away.

  “Would to God I could make similar pain upon all who deliberately cause harm to any,” Grace threw the bucket out the window and called out for more fresh water.

  “Sarah, Grace, go change and break thy fast; have the cooks set some aside for the four of us. I will stay until the peat has calmed enough to be put back to bed.” Beulah lipped kisses at her friends as they left. Quiet fell while Florence left to fetch clean clothes for everyone and Ruth and Hannah set the room to rights.

  Ten minutes later she was uncovered to show that while still curled up in a ball sobbing some, the patient was calmer. Beulah eased her up, got the lightweight girl on her lap and wiggled her out of the soaking wet nightgown while talking comfortingly. When the dry one was on the three women put her back to bed, where she again seemed to fall into a deep sleep.

  “Go now,” Florence hugged her niece. “Change, eat and take some rest after you make explanation to - wait, footfalls. Make explanation now, then change and eat,” the smile on her lips was thin.

  “The Lakin suffers muchly, Most Holy Lord Reverend,” Beula reported outside the room. “Whilst she seems awake sometimes, she doth not respond to our voices or actions. There oft be weeping, and has been violent, with mickle screaming and seizures. Water poured on her head just to wash her caused severe anguish. We believe -”

  “And who is this we?” Allway asked coldly.

  “We women, tending to the lass.” Beulah’s tone was humble, self-effacing.

  “Because tending is the skill God has given you. As to the state of the woman’s soul, we Righteous Men whom are called of God will determine that. Continue, with what you see her doing and what you think.” Since there were three other men in the hall, everyone knew he was being more arrogant and denigrating than he was when only he was there.

  It took all Beulah’s inner strength to not sigh heavily. “It seems that she is still involved in whatever tragedy brought her to us. She hath not spoken actual words that we know of, but weeps an
d wails muchly, oft reaching out. None less than two of us art able to bring quiet to her again, and then she sinks back into an unresponsive state for many hours.”

  “It would appear that she is afeard in her soul,” the Reverend pursed his lips as he made his assessment. “She will still need much care and tender mercies to recure. How be the injuries?”

  “When the peat thrashes, it reopens the weakest areas. Those smallest wounds be almost gone, her arrow wound has sealed from inside, as it should be. But her back, my lord, is proving difficult. All we can do is put ointment on it, or the herb compresses or warm wet cloths, to prevent thick scabs from forming that the wounds not infect.”

  “Continue as thou art,” he ordered, “and we will continue in steadfast prayer, bringing her before the Lord for healing. Have faith, woman, and adjure your helpers to as well.”

  Not bothering with breakfast, Beulah just changed and went to bed for a while. Florence and her helpers bandaged the bloody fingertips and were glad of the food arriving.

  When do you want to wake up all the way, Sesh dear?

  Say after the midday meal?

  Sleep till then, I’ll do the firing up and such. Who do you want to open your eyes to first?

  Beulah. I’ve not seen her yet, but had glimpses of the others. I like her voice too, and her touch. So, she yawned, wake me when its time, Shni. I love you, you know.

  It was early afternoon when Grace noticed her moving, quite different than any before. A vocal noise, similar to “oh,” and her fingers flexed from loose fist to flat-palmed. Looking up from her chore mending boy’s pants, she watched carefully a long minute to see if it was just an aberration. The slender hand lifted into the air, fingers groping for something above, then the hand laid down on top of her other. The head with its clean hair turned and sounds drifted out from the dry lips and that really got Grace’s attention.

  She rose, and as usual when she bent over her, laid her hand on the girl’s forehead first. When she didn’t start shaking, her cheek was stroked before Grace lifted her hand off.

  Sesha began to really wake up this time; first in her mind with Shni guiding her how her body was reacting and what Grace was doing. Then body sensations turned on fully, not a happy moment for the Nestram woman, feeling the pain still living in her skin and bones.

  “Rachel, I shall lift the child, put the other bolsters under her to sit up a bit more; we should try to give her more to drink.”

  Sesha felt the pain of the careful pull on her wrists, not only from her back but her shoulder as well, the arm without the Gem. She couldn’t help it, her face grimaced.

  “Rachel, call for Florence. She is in the kitchen boiling the washing cloths for Eunice at the Infirmary. She should be here.” Sesha heard the door open and steps hurry out.

  Sesha felt her head being lifted and again a teacup was placed to her lips. Obligingly she swallowed, with intent this time, then ever-so-barely lifted her head and pulled in a second drink, the first time she’d done that. Then she sighed again, her eyes fluttering a little, which was also different than her usual snapping her eyes open. She was laid back down and heard the woman cross to the open windows.

  “Righteous Lady, Most Holy Lord Reverend!” The woman called and waved at the two across the square. When she saw them turn, she finished. “The lady, she wakes again, but ‘tis different than before! Come, please!” Grace watched as Beulah picked up her skirts, the Reverend clapped a hand onto his hat and they scurried across the large common area. Many people stopped what they were doing, and before Sister Grace drew her head back in, there was a small crowd gathered outside the front door.

  “I’m here,” Florence came in and a moment later Sesha yelped a bit as there was a sudden pain between her breasts. “Yes, she is wakening. Come child, tis safe to open eyes.”

  “I’m here,” Beulah hurried in, tossing her bonnet to the side, just as Sesha started moving her head some more. The woman knelt by her head and slid an arm under Sesha’s neck. “It be all right, child. Open thine eyes.”

  A sort of hiccup burst from her lips and her hand went up again, groping, so it was caught and held gently.

  “Praise be to the Lord on high, she lives!” the Reverend’s voice boomed loudly and Sesha jerked, whimpering.

  “Ssh!” Beulah whipped the noise at him and startled, he quieted. “She seems to be upset again. Hand me the tea, Sister Grace.”

  But Sesha turned her head away from the proffered cup, still sobbing. So the woman sat on the bed and gathered her carefully in her arms. “Fetch some water, please,” she asked generally. To everyone’s surprise the Reverend stepped quietly to the pitcher and poured it, bringing it over. “And a wet cloth please, Auntie.”

  When Sesha felt the cool, wet washcloth on her face, she allowed her eyes to flutter as she moved her head slowly against the bosom it rested on. Seeing that, the woman cradling her began to coax her to open them, so slowly, unwillingly, she did. But only a little. Her lips opened as if trying to speak but her tongue was thick.

  “The water, wife,” the whisper was very soft and so was Beulah’s ‘grammarcy, husband,” as she handed the cup over. “Spoon in,”

  Sesha felt the cool of the metal and the wet, she deliberately swallowed the three times water was brought, then sighed and moved her head.

  “Good girl,” Beulah’s hand stroked her cheek. “Open your eyes now,”

  “Ye’at wah, toe doe mae?” her eyes were still fluttering.

  “What?” several voices all whispered.

  Beulah set to tickling the girl’s eyelashes gently, cooing “open, sweetheart,” and that worked. Her eyes shot open, shut, squeezed and opened again. As she had always had her ‘lost’ sessions with the other women, closing her eyes whenever Beulah came to assist, this was the first time she’d really seen her. To Sesha’s surprise, she saw the lady holding her was beautiful in her middle age, with a firm chin and sharp, clear green eyes. She had a slender figure, moderate-sized breasts under all the cloth in her dress and strong but lovely hands. The woman smiled when she saw Sesha open her eyes for real this time, and spoke to her.

  “That’s right, child. Welcome to the conscious world, dear.” she said. “Now tell me if you can – what is your name?”

  Sesha and Shni had already decided that she had to speak a foreign language and ‘pick up’ English as she went, even though she knew practically the whole language now. So here goes, she thought.

  “Zha-neek, toe doe mae?” she asked softly in one of the eight languages she knew, a barest whisper of a parched throat and abused voice.

  “Oh, oh,” Beulah smiled. “I think we have a language barrier here.” She laid her hand on her breast, smiled and slowly said “Bee-you-la.”

  “Grr-ace,” she bent down and put her face near to be seen.

  “Ray-chel,” the girl smiled in a lovely manner as Sesha looked at her.

  “Flo-rence,” the words were spoken carefully with a gentle smile.

  “Peter,” again the loud voice and again Sesha jerked and seeing a man, her eyes widened and she whimpered in sheer fear.

  Florence rose and bundled him out, whispering “she begins to shake, Reverend. If thou woulds’t let us calm and tend her, then shalt call thee back for introduction. Then shalt the Eanling know thou and thy men are not the brigands who nigh killed her.”

  “Ah,” was all he could answer and then the door was shut on him. For a moment he was aggravated; seeing the woman awake just perked his… interest again. But then the look of fear came to mind and he knew, against his Pride, that the women, especially that one, was right. He would wait a bit longer. God was answering his prayers even now, for the lass was alive.

  Relaxing in Beulah’s arms Sesha coughed a bit, and found the spoon back at her mouth so she took the fluid in while the women spoke their names again, smiling gently. When Beulah touched her upper breast gently, signifying her turn she nodded slowly, but raised a hand towards the metal cup, whispering “gee-ho.�
�� She held her mouth open, wanting more.

  As Rachel spooned in another bit, Beulah said “Waa-ter.”

  “Waa-ter,” she whispered, then laid her fingers over Beulah’s and nodded slowly. “Se-sha,” she managed, in a soft, high-pitched voice. And then realized she was stuck with that now. What an aggravation this was turning out to be! Looking into the face smiling proudly over her, in a sweetly questioning voice said “Bee-lah?”

  “Bee-you-la,” the woman smiled as Sesha carefully repeated her name and smiled, weakly, back.

  First contact.

  Great performance, Sesha, Shni congratulated her. Keep up the good work. Perhaps this idea of yours might work with a little more planning! Now get drowsy again… the med program says you’ll still sleep quite a bit.

  There were several kisses bestowed as the women settled her on her belly, over the bolsters, soothingly talking as her back was rubbed with the ointment and bandaged again. Sesha drifted into sleep.

  13

  And dreamed.

  Dreamed of the last shopping trip she’d gone on, fifteen years ago.

  The company always spent time showing off their Shoppers, advertising skills, specialties and aptitudes. That meant being at the Vid Station for imaging, then off to her second job – really not needed as the Shoppers were paid twice; once for the duties performed ship-wide and second for the shopping performed and delivered. But she liked this second position. It was very down to earth, literally. Sesha worked in a Greenhouse, hand planting seeds or germinating rare blossoms. The heat was marvelous, the smells magnificent and the quiet, so rare in her life even in dreams that it was memorable. She had time to think without even Wrist Gem intruding as it was on minimal mode. She hadn’t known Shni then, like now. He was just part of the program and when off, was out of her mind.

  The trip was planned in time for Sesha to finish pollinating Quarran Rose Wheat. A genetically modified grain, it had enormous use in medicine. Quarrans on the Southern orbiting Moon often fell ill to a disease of the joints caused by lacking certain nutrients in their diet there no matter what was shipped in. There was something about living on that moon that leeched only that nutrient from them. It was discovered that just one standard ounce of Rose Wheat germ baked into their bread not only replaced this but when eaten daily, kept the levels up. And it tasted wonderful! So much so that there were specialty breads made with it and sold for high prices.