by Althea Blue
She carefully opened the door and listened to see if she could hear anyone moving around. There was a cow mooing from the direction of the barn she’d passed the night before, but she heard nothing else. She eased the door open, slipped out and carefully closed it behind her. She couldn’t find a road but walked through the field that lay to her left. She thought that was north, though the stars weren’t visible behind thick clouds. Without a road to follow she moved slower than she had the night before, but she figured it didn’t matter since she’d be harder to find.
She passed through a series of fields, some with crops almost ripe for harvesting, others already gleaned of their foodstuffs. She found a small patch of woods where she recognized some blackberry bushes with fruit still clinging to their branches. She picked and ate as quickly as she could and once she was full stripped the bushes bare. She was feeling a bit dizzy and realized how long it had been since she’d had anything to drink. There was a tiny stream in the woods, barely a trickle. She sat beside it, drinking handful after handful of water until her stomach was full to bursting. She wished hard that she had planned her escape more thoroughly. She berated herself for not taking a few days to consider what she’d need and collect it before she fled.
She didn’t for a moment consider going back, and probably would never be able to find her way even if she wanted to, but she had always prided herself on being clever and the first time that cleverness was tested she had failed miserably. Sitting beside the stream she started to cry, her tears falling into the water and rushing towards the unknown. For some reason, thinking about the freedom of her tears made her feel better. She purposefully straightened her back, thrust her shoulders into place and stood up, marching with a new energy. This feeling lasted long enough to see her through the woods and into another field. At the end of the field was another barn, one with animals on the ground floor and a hayloft above. Gratefully Patience climbed the ladder into the hayloft, dug herself a bed into a pile of hay and fell into a dreamless sleep.
The crowing of a rooster shattered her slumber and she quickly climbed out of the barn and went on her way before the farmer could find her. This pattern lasted for two more nights, Patience would walk through the day, find a barn to sleep in and repeat the process. She was exhausted, her feet burned and blisters formed, broke, and reformed, but she continued.
One day she found an orchard with apples that were riper than the first ones. Feeling only slightly guilty she took as many as she could carry. Occasionally, she would come to a small village where she would drink her fill at a well and do her best to wash her exposed skin and tidy her hair. She knew she looked a fright, one of the many things she’d forgotten to bring was a comb, but she used twigs to tease most of the tangles out and braided her hair tightly with a ribbon she’d found in the dirt. She no longer worried about being caught by her family, she doubted they’d recognize her if they saw her. Her problems were reduced to finding food and water and a place to sleep.
When she climbed into a barn loft on her fourth night she was surprised to find someone already sleeping in it. Nervously she started to head back down the ladder but the form jerked awake holding a knife.
Patience scrambled down the ladder and tried to run but he jumped down in front of her. “And who might you be?” the man asked.
Patience looked to the door he was blocking with his body and looked back at the knife he held in front of him. “I did not mean to disturb your rest. I am only a traveler and mean no harm. I was looking for a place to sleep but I am quite happy to find another one.” She tried to edge around him.
The man moved to block her. He was older than Patience, maybe around her father’s age, with a dirty, tangled beard and torn and filthy clothing. There was something wrong with his face, it seemed twisted on one side, maybe a scar or some pox from long ago. There was no sense of kindness from him.
Her fears were confirmed when the man spoke again. ”Here is a right good place for you to sleep. We can have a little fun.” She didn’t need to see the licentious leer on his face to know what he meant by fun. Her heart raced faster and her eyes darted around, seeking an escape route.
“I believe I will keep walking a while longer. I have fallen behind today and my friends will be waiting for me.” She tried to keep her voice steady but was betrayed by a noticeable quiver. Still, she stood with a straight back, clutching her bag tightly.
The man spat in the dirt. “What friends? I don't think anyone will miss you for a few hours.” He advanced toward her and Patience retreated until her back was against the wall. He kept moving toward her, keeping the knife between them. Patience started to hyperventilate, even as her mind raced to find a way out. She could scream for help, but she didn’t know if anyone would hear her, or come to her assistance if they did. The people in the house might be as bad as the man in front of her. If she didn’t get away, she knew what would happen and she wasn’t willing to let it.
Suddenly she took one big step forward, swung her bag at the man’s head and ran as soon as she let go. She darted out the barn door, leaving it open in her wake and fled headlong into the closest field. She didn’t stop to think about her direction, or move quietly, she just ran. Her lungs burned, a stitch formed in her side and got worse and worse and she kept running. She didn’t stop until she was hopelessly lost and exhausted. She had to lean against a tree, her breath coming in gasps that hurt each time she inhaled. Her hands shook and she burst into tears, crying into the unforgiving bark until she had no moisture left in her.
Crying didn’t make her feel better, just more vulnerable. She’d lost everything she had. Her changes of clothes, her memories of home, even her few remaining apples. She had even lost her shawl, which had been tied around the bag’s straps as the night was a warm one. She literally had nothing but the clothes on her back and she felt completely used up. Sliding down the tree she curled into as small a ball as she could and shook until sleep overcame her.
Chapter Four
When Patience awoke she felt scared and very small. She looked around her and noted that she was in a forest, but she had no idea how deep into it or in what direction she’d come from. She debated just staying where she was, but hunger and thirst eventually overcame fear and she stood shakily, clutching the tree for support. She couldn’t hear anything that suggested water nearby and the light that filtered through the tall trees was diffused and greenish, giving everything a slightly spooky cast. There were no trees with fruit and no bushes with berries so she wandered aimlessly around the forest searching for a path of any kind. Even an animal’s trail would lead to water eventually, on one end or another, she knew that, but she couldn’t find evidence of anything larger than a rabbit. The undergrowth was thick and smelled slightly moldy and she wondered if any people had ever been in this wood at all. Maybe she was the first to explore it.
That made her feel slightly braver and she continued watching the ground in hopes of discovering water. She was so intent on the details that she didn’t notice when the woods thinned out until she was entirely free of the trees. Suddenly noticing her lack of cover she retreated and hid behind a large oak, peering around. There was a thin strip of some kind of grass that reached about knee high and then a tall stone fence. It went on quite a ways, with no breaks or gates that she could see. Near the place where the wall turned away from the woods she saw that it had crumbled, just a little at the top. Carefully looking up and down, and seeing no one, Patience went as far as she could in the cover of the trees and then raced to the wall, pressing herself against it and letting her heart rate slow to normal. She tried to climb the wall, and although the rough texture suggested that it should be easy to climb, she found it impossible to find a foothold with her boots.
Remembering childhood adventures climbing trees while her parents were away and couldn’t scold her, she removed her boots, tied them together and strung them around her neck. Her stocking feet had no trouble finding cracks in the stone and she pulled her
self up just high enough that she could peek through the gap left by the crumbling wall.
The first thing Patience noticed was a large house. Not quite as large as the one she’d fled, but certainly more sizable than anything she’d seen in the villages she passed through. Windows were uniformly covered by curtains and the door that led inside was firmly shut. Letting her gaze wander, Patience saw a large garden, filled with food she recognized from the garden at home. Her stomach rumbled with the reminder that she had barely eaten for many days, but she was still cautious. What finally drove her over the wall was the enticement of a well between the back door and the first row of vegetables. She pulled herself to the top of the wall and quickly crept her way down to the ground, hoping that no one in the house was peering through the windows just then. When she reached the grass she paused, waiting for a window or door to open and reveal a housewife with a broom or dogs to chase her away, but nothing happened. She crept around the inside of the wall until she was at the closest point to the well.
Patience drew up a bucket full of water and crouched behind the well, believing herself hidden from the house. She drank until she could hold no more and then looked longingly at the growing vegetables. It’s stealing, she told herself. So was taking the fruit from the orchards, her stomach argued back. She didn’t really have a good rejoinder for that. She hadn’t exactly thought of it as stealing when she was taking the apples, because there were so many more, but that’s what it was.
Thieves were regarded as one of the lowest forms of criminals, in Patience’s world. She’d never stopped to consider that maybe people were just stealing because they were hungry, rather than out of criminal intent. Now that she was one of the hungry ones, her upbringing was brought sharply into contrast with the needs of her body. If I just take a little, maybe no one will notice. She quickly pulled a few carrots and parsnips, storing them in the bodice of her dress, and retraced her path along the fence until she reached the crumbled corner.
She was up and over the wall again before she had time for second thoughts and returned to the safety of the woods where she sat against a tree and pulled the food from her dress. Without more than cursorily brushing off the dirt she ate everything she had stolen and felt less guilty with every swallow. She told herself that it was all right if she didn't do it again and spent the rest of the day near the edge of the woods, neither leaving their shelter, nor straying too far from that stone wall.
Chapter Five
The next morning, she found herself staring at the wall again. She remained cautious and held out as long as she could, but a source of food so close was too tempting to resist. She followed the same pattern as the day before, drinking her fill before ravaging a different area of the garden and running with her ill-gotten gains. The third day she didn’t even have to talk herself into it. She just climbed over and down and was less careful to stay against the wall. She was just letting the bucket fall back into the well when a terrible roaring came from around the side of the house.
Patience dropped the bucket and froze, crouching behind the wall of the well, positive some animal was coming to devour her. She shook in fear, unable to decide whether to run for it or to stay hidden, as meager a protection as the well might provide. The roar came again and again, but it didn’t seem to be getting any closer. Maybe it wasn’t inside the grounds. If it was outside the wall, Patience didn’t want to risk leaving the safety of the garden. But if it was here, she didn’t want to stay. Moving slowly, and ready to run if anything came near her, Patience peeked around the side of the house.
She could just make out a ground-floor window open and something inside the house which occasionally leaned over the sill so she could just see the edge of it. She didn’t know what it was, it was far too big to be a dog or even a bear. The roaring continued regularly, and was definitely coming from the creature. A very small part of Patience wanted to see it better and she found herself edging out from the protection of the wall, only by a few inches. She stared at the thing and still couldn’t recognize it as anything from her brother’s books on animals. Certainly it was nothing from England. Maybe from Africa or India. Perhaps whoever lived in the house had chained it up as a prize. She knew men who had gone large-game hunting, and though they came back with trophies instead of live animals she supposed it might happen.
Forgetting that she needed to stay hidden in her curiosity, she was nearly around the corner of the house. From this angle the beast looked like nothing more than a wolf, but standing upright and taller than the largest man she had ever seen. When its head swung in her direction and it roared again Patience jumped back involuntarily and tripped over something lying behind her. She landed hard on her rear and let out a tiny cry before she could stop herself. Desperately she looked toward the beast but it wasn’t turned toward her anymore.
She thought she was safe and was crawling back towards the garden when she saw a flicker of movement in a window directly above the beast. It might have been nothing, a trick of the light but it might also have been the twitch of a curtain caused by someone looking through a gap. Realizing that she was in full view of anyone who happened to glance her way, she stood and fled back through the garden, hoisting herself up over the wall in haste, and didn’t slow until she was safely back in her woods. It wasn’t until that point that she realized she’d dropped her boots when she fell, and her stomach reminded her that she hadn’t picked any vegetables to eat, but her fear determined that she wasn't going anywhere near that house again to fetch either food or shoes.
That night the cramping in her stomach was only a slight distraction from the raging storm that blew stinging rain into her eyes and across her exposed skin. She huddled in a pile under some fallen branches and waited for the storm to pass but it showed no signs of slowing.
Patience couldn’t feel her hands or her feet. Her dress was a sodden mass of fabric and the ground under her a swampland of mud. Every time a lightning bolt lit the sky she was positive it was going to hit the tree she was trying to shelter under, and her teeth were chattering so loudly she could hear them over the storm. Eventually, half-frozen and fully-exhausted she decided that being eaten would be a better fate than dying of hypothermia in a nameless forest somewhere in the middle of England. She found her way to the fence easily enough, but climbing the wall took her several tries, as she couldn’t feel her fingers or toes and kept slipping when she thought she had a safe perch. Finally she made it over the top and almost tumbled down the inside. She wasn’t hurt but it took her a few minutes to gather her strength enough to stand and drag herself to the back door.
Of course it was locked tight and there was no give to it at all. She wished she had been born a thief so she knew how to get inside a locked house, but she didn’t have a clue. She tried each window in turn, but they were latched as tightly as the door. The corner of the house drew her attention, where she’d gone to look at the beast. She cautiously edged around the bricks, listening for any sign of the creature or any other inhabitants of the home. The first window was shut as tightly as the ones around back, but the one from which the animal had roared was unlatched. She peeked inside but it was pitch black and she couldn’t see if there was anything in the room. Screwing up all the courage she could muster, Patience slid the window open a little at a time and pulled herself over the sill.
Her stocking-clad feet hardly made a sound as they landed on the floor and she dropped into a crouch, peering around the room. A flash of lightening illuminated the space and she felt sure that nothing more than furniture occupied it. Huddling against the wall, Patience willed her body to stop shaking and warm up. The room wasn’t that much warmer than the outside, but at least no rain was pounding on her head. While she waited, hoping to dry off a little or for the rain to stop, she heard the same roaring as before. She jumped at the sound and looked around but the creature was clearly not in the room with her.
The door to the corridor was slightly open and she moved closer to it, listeni
ng and trying to determine how far away the creature was. The roar came again, and she was sure it wasn’t getting any closer. She heard nothing else and some nonsensical part of her wanted to see the beast again. She left the room and padded lightly down the hall in the direction from which the sound came. There were no creaks from the floor but she worried that she was leaving a trail of droplets behind her. Patience wished there was somewhere that she could wring out her clothes and her hair, which was still dripping into her eyes. She tried to push the water away using a sodden sleeve but it made no noticeable difference.
She jumped again when the roar sounded but was able to pinpoint the origin as a room just ahead. The door was slightly open and there was a faint glow coming from inside. Patience stared at it. She might have expected to see a flickering, as from a candle or a gas lamp but this light was steady and she recognized it as electric. A few of the wealthiest families she knew had installed electric lights, but she wondered who was providing power in a remote area like this.
Beyond the source of the light, a huge creature stood, looking out the window. It paced a few meters, turned back to the window and roared again. This close she could feel the power of the sound through her chest and it made her freeze. A small rational part of her screamed to flee, but she was fascinated by the creature. From the back it could have been a bear, shaggy fur covered it entirely, but when it turned its head a little she could see that the snout wasn’t like anything she’d seen before. It didn’t really resemble a wolf at all, though that was what she’d thought earlier in the day, maybe it was closer to a gorilla. It certainly belonged to no species she knew of.
