The Pioneer: A Journey to the Pacific

by Schwartz, Richard Alan

  Beth added wood to the fire then returned to the window. An icy scene, devoid of life greeted her. A shiver went down her spine as an overwhelming sense of loneliness enveloped her. She tightened the quilt around her and yelled at the sky. “Is this more punishment? Would you have me die here?” Beth glanced around the cabin then gingerly returned to the chair by the stove. “Where the hell is that guy?”

  * * *

  Jonah surveyed his surroundings. He wondered if he would lose consciousness from the pain. The tall man’s jaws ached from gritting his teeth…as if doing so would ameliorate his pain.

  A tiny thin vertical cloud, some distance away and slightly below him, attracted his attention.

  “Thank you, Lord!” he shouted.

  With renewed vigor and cradling his bad arm with the other, he slowly headed toward the ephemeral beacon issuing from the cabin’s chimney. As each of the snow shoes crunched into the blanket of white, pain shot into his arm and shoulder.

  After fifty-yards, his pulse was rapid and breathing labored. He thought, “Getting dizzy again. Must stop.”

  A wolf’s howl echoed through the woods.

  Jonah shook his head to clear it. His memory replayed the sight of a man and woman’s remains after they’d been torn to shreds by wolves. “Can’t lose consciousness. Have to keep moving.”

  He proceeded at a slow but steady pace.

  Two hours had gone by but it seemed much longer to Jonah. He looked up to see the cabin only fifty-yards-away. His vision fixed on his goal, he didn’t see the sapling which caught his right snowshoe. Jonah tumbled and screamed in pain. The cold and exhaustion numbed him. He thought, “Maybe I should just lay here for a while.”

  “NO!” his mind yelled. He forced his tired body to a sitting position, gathered his legs under him, and stood. Jonah wobbled at bit then one slow step at a time kept moving toward the cabin.

  * * *

  As he approached the door, he heard the bolt slide open.

  “Home is the hunter,” Beth said, and returned to the chair by the stove. “Took you long enough.”

  In between heavy breaths, he said, “I was lost until I saw the smoke.” He closed and bolted the door, gritted his teeth and lowered the back board to the floor. “How are your feet?”

  “Uncomfortable but…”

  He saw tears rolling down her cheeks. “Beth?”

  She wiped her eyes, walked up to him and wrapped her arms around him. The thin girl trembled and shouted, “I was terrified something happened to you. You took so long. If you didn’t come back, how the hell would I get out of here? The thought of dying alone up here…”

  “I’m here now.” He wrapped his good arm around her. Jonah grimaced and groaned when she bumped his broken arm.

  “Wait…what’s wrong?” She pushed away from him. “What happened to your arm?”

  “It’s broken. I sewed it but I need a splint.”

  “You sewed it?”

  He shifted slightly and moaned. “Damn, it’s painful.”

  “Sit down, Jonah. Let’s get your coat off.”

  The tall man trembled and gritted his teeth, once again enduring intense pain as she slid his coat sleeve down his arm. “I’ll cut flats from the kindling,” Jonah said. “I need you to secure them for me and make a sling.” He grimaced and moaned then began to stand.

  “Stay where you are. I’ll cut the wood and do the rest.”

  “That’s better,” he said, as she guided his arm into a sling. Jonah kept his eyes closed and took deep breaths. He gave her a weak smile. “Stay still. I’ll cook the meat.”

  “No.” She gripped his shoulders. “Don’t move.”

  Jonah nodded.

  Beth stripped meat from one of the deer quarters, placed it in a pot with water.

  “After we eat,” Jonah said, “we’ll place the rest outside in the latched box.”

  “Won’t bears come for it?”

  “Not this time of year. Boiled venison without any seasoning might not be too tasty.”

  “Hungry as I am, you won’t hear any complaints.”

  “Beth, I’m exhausted and my arm is throbbing like hell.”

  “Lay down. I’ll wake you when dinner’s ready.”

  * * *

  They twosome awoke with a start three-days-later when a steam whistle shattered the morning’s silence.

  “I’ll clean out the stove and ready it for the next occupants,” Jonah said.

  “I’ll tie our gear to the backboards.”

  After an hour’s busy work cleaning and restoring the cabin for its next visitors, they pulled on their coats and jackets.

  Jonah said, “Let’s fit you with snow shoes.”

  The moment he tightened a strap, she screamed. “Stop. It hurts too much.”

  “How will I get you out of here?”

  Beth kept her eyes closed and remained silent until the pain subsided. “We’ll combine our gear onto one backboard. I wear it and you’ll have to carry me.”

  He stared at her.

  “Can you manage that?”

  “Skied down a mountainside with 100 lbs. of elk meat on my back one time. I’ll unstring the bow and use it as a staff. Might be extra work with a bum arm but I’ll manage.”

  * * *

  A gandy dancer with incredulity written in his expression, hurriedly approached them.

  “What in tarnation are you folks doing out here?”

  Beth responded for Jonah who was out of breath. “We were at my hunting cabin when the storm hit.”

  “In a couple hours the train is heading back to Seattle. You can ride with it.”

  Jonah used his good arm to help Beth up the steps and into the warm passenger coach.

  “Better accommodations than the first part of our journey,” Beth whispered to Jonah.

  He laughed and said, “A marked improvement.”

  That evening the conductor told them, “Another hour and we’ll be in Seattle.”

  “Country Boy, tell me about your family.”

  “My grandparents on my father’s side came from Ireland, my mom’s side from France. They settled on the east coast at first then Independence, Missouri, followed by Portland, Oregon and finally Seattle, Washington. My grandfather built various businesses along the way.”

  “But your father became a doctor.”

  “He wasn’t interested at first, but with lots of encouragement from the family, ultimately, he chose that career path.”

  “And you?”

  “All I’ve ever wanted to do is run a business. I live for buying and selling. Been like that since grade school.”

  “What dreams did your parent’s have for you?”

  “Mom was hoping I’d go into Dad’s medical office. Of my siblings, I was the only one with enough brain power. I think Dad wanted me to go into medicine but didn’t push me about it until it was time to decide on attending college.”

  “Brothers and sisters?”

  “Younger brother Ethan, in engineering school. Older brother Noah, a school teacher. Older sister, Shifra, teaches Physics at the University.”

  “Lots of people for support.”

  “Too many. Everyone has their own dreams for you and you feel like you let them down when you don’t follow them.”

  Beth stared at the passing scenery.

  “What were your dreams?” Jonah asked.

  “No dreams.”

  “None?”

  She folded her arms across her chest. “Unlike you, I spent my life having to hustle just to eat. No fancy warm clothes for me. Just someone else’s worn throwaways.” She tugged at the side of her waist overalls. “First pair of new ones I ever owned. Wear like iron. Made by some San Francisco company called Strauss or something.” Beth ran her hand over the arm of his coat. “Hell…you were raised like a rich kid.”

  “I worked hard all my life.”

  “And if you didn’t work hard, would you have missed a meal?”

  “Well…”

>   Her posture stiffened. “Of course not. Your family would make sure you were fed.”

  “We experienced tough times.”

  “Not tough by my measure.” She stared out the window again.

  “Beth…” He put a hand on her shoulder.

  She shoved it away. “You gambled away that train ticket like it was nothing. You have any idea how hard and how long I’d have to scratch to earn that much? I could’ve eaten for a week.”

  “What’s the anger?”

  “I’m fine.” She crossed her arms and stared out the window.

  “You upset with something I said?”

  “No.”

  “You in pain?”

  “Not too bad.”

  “Where will you live?”

  Continuing to watch the scenery, she said, “I’ll manage. I always have.”

  “You can have a room at my house.”

  “I’ve been managing a life alone since I was twelve. I don’t need anyone now.” Beth sighed. “Besides, we’re different. I wouldn’t fit with your family.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  They sat silently for many minutes.

  “Beth, I’ve enjoyed our time together.”

  “Time to go our separate ways.”

  “I assumed we were good…partners.”

  “We were in a survival situation. There wasn’t a choice. You go back to your big, wealthy family. That’s where you belong.”

  He slowly shook his head. “Beth, did I do something to upset you?”

  She turned to face him, her cheeks red. Beth shouted. “Stop asking stupid questions. You have your family and I’m not becoming part of your or anyone else’s life.”

  Jonah tried to hold her hand but she pulled it away. He said, “I care.”

  “Your problem, not mine. I don’t need some overgrown oaf in my life.”

  The train squeaked to a stop at the Seattle station. Jonah helped her off the train.

  “You should have a doctor check your feet.”

  “Goodbye.”

  “Let me help you.”

  “Get the hell away from me,” she screamed. In obvious pain, she gradually hobbled away.

  Chapter Forty-One: New Beginnings

  Jonah’s eyebrows lifted, his heart rate increased, and eyes widened when he opened his front door just before sunset, four weeks after his return to Seattle.

  “Please come in.”

  Beth briefly glanced at the mezuzah on his door post. No longer wincing with each step, she still walked slowly. Noting the partially set table, she said, “Looks like you were in the middle of something. I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

  “A meal for myself. It can wait. Please sit down.”

  She moved to a chair and gently sat. “That’s better.” Beth looked up at him. “Doesn’t hurt so much when I sit.”

  “You in constant pain?”

  “Mostly when I walk. Been seeing a kind doctor. He said you did an excellent job. When I saw him earlier today, he gave me your address.”

  “Dr. Kaplan?”

  “Yes.”

  “My father.”

  Beth twisted on the chair. “How’s the arm?”

  “Dad said the breaks should completely heal.”

  After an uncomfortable silence, she said, “We need to talk about the argument.”

  “You decided not to become part of my or anyone else’s life.”

  “I was scared.”

  “Of what?”

  “You have so much family. You can depend on each other. I wouldn’t fit in your world.”

  “You and I were dependent on each other…hell…took care of each other for a number of days. We got close to Seattle and you said some awful things.”

  “An indication of how frightened I was.”

  “Frightened of what?”

  “Every person I’ve ever known has let me down.”

  “I didn’t.”

  “You have your family.”

  “And you have me.”

  They stared at each other briefly.

  Beth looked at the floor. “I said some terrible things. I apologize for them.”

  “Thank you.”

  She twisted on the chair again. “I should get going.”

  “If that’s what you want.”

  Beth used the arms of the chair to push herself onto her feet and walked toward the door.

  “Beth, please don’t leave. I need you.”

  She stopped and said over her shoulder “Need me?” She partially turned toward him.

  “When we were together, I was driven by thoughts and actions to take care of you. Exhausted and in absolute agony after the mountain lion attack, I was driven to return so you’d have something to eat. You recognized my suffering and despite your own pain, took care of me.”

  She turned to face him. “Like you said, a survival situation.”

  “More than that. For the first time in my life, I understand, and feel, the kind of love my father has for my mother.”

  Beth’s face became radiant. “Lighting Sabbath candles tonight?”

  Jonah’s jaw slowly dropped as his eyes widened. He approached her.

  She slowly wrapped her arms tightly around him, her head on his chest.

  Jonah firmly wrapped his good arm around her.

  Beth luxuriated in his embrace, took a deep breath, and let it out slowly. Beth looked up at him with gleaming eyes and a radiant smile. “One of my fondest childhood memories was reciting the Sabbath blessings with my mother.”

  “You’re … ?”

  “Country Boy, are you certain; I mean absolutely certain, you care for me?”

  He replied with a long kiss.

  She leaned away from him. “I know nothing of Judaism.”

  “We’ll manage.”

  “I know nothing of being a wife.”

  “Not true. The way you took care of me was more than I deserve.”

  “I can’t even cook.”

  “My mom will be in heaven teaching you her Irish and Northwest recipes. We’ll work out the rest ourselves. You and I survived in primitive conditions; we’ll get past anything down here.”

  They kissed a while longer.

  “Beth, will you marry me?”

  “We haven’t been together that long.”

  “When I ask my Grandfather about his age, he says, It’s not the years but the mileage.”

  Beth laughed.

  “You and I may not have spent much time together but we’ve accumulated some incredible mileage.”

  “We should take more time to get to know each other but when the time’s right…”

  “My Uncle Nathan lives in Spokane. He’s a Rabbi. I’ll write him and he’ll marry us.”

  She tightened her embrace and kissed him.

  “Where are you living?”

  “I have a room in town.”

  “I have a spare bedroom you can use. Or my folks have space. I’m sure they’d provide a place for you.”

  “They don’t know me.”

  He glanced outside.

  “I see the first star. Light and bless the candles for me?”

  Jonah recited Kiddush, the prayer for wine, after Beth blessed the candles. He began putting food on the table.

  Beth tried the soup. “This is so rich.”

  “Scotch Broth. Grandma Myra’s recipe,” Jonah said.

  “This is my favorite,” Jonah said as he reached for the plate holding the salmon gefilte fish. “Mother Celeste’s recipe,” he intoned. “Grandma Myra makes it as well but Mother smokes it with alder wood and seasons it with a combination of ten spices she learned from a neighbor who grew up near Chesapeake Bay.”

  “Sounds like assembling a puzzle.”

  “Yes but when you get the spices balanced…”

  Beth tasted a piece. “A symphony of flavor.”

  “Let’s move to the parlor,” Jonah said after cleanup from their meal. Beth sat on the couch and Jonah on a chair opposite her.
>
  “What is your work day like?” she asked.

  “It varies. Generally, I leave around six and I’m home about six or seven.”

  “Long day. Your workers toil the same types of hours?”

  “My workers are there most of that time and sometimes longer.”

  Beth frowned. “How do they have a family life?”

  Jonah grinned. “You going to be my conscience when it comes to my workers?”

  She folded her arms across her chest. “I’ve seen good men die in their mid-thirties from long hours at an ironworks. Seemed like their bodies just wore out.”

  Unsmiling Jonah stared at her.

  Beth shook her head and gazed at the floor. “I remember the shriek of a mother with eight children gathered around her when she saw her young husband laid out at the undertaker’s. Poor woman was devastated. No clue how she’d earn enough to feed and clothe her family. I emptied my pockets and gave her whatever coin I had.”

  “We’re good as we can to our workers but there’s immense pressure to keep wages low. Perhaps a woman in that situation can put her older children to work.”

  Beth’s eyes widened and she put her hands on her hips. “Do you hear what you just said? Children need to work?”

  “You found work at ten.”

  “Yes, and until I met you, I hated my very existence and everyone around me. I’ve entered your life with next to zero skills as a wife, let alone a mother. That’s what childhood is for and I was robbed of that.”