No Time For Witches, page 4
“Do you smoke? Do you have a lighter?” she asked, taking a quick look over at Martha as they moved back and away, each step taking them farther from the predator.
“No, my parents do and it’s nasty. Why?”
“I was hoping you had a lighter,” Kim said, a pang of disappointment going through her.
“Maybe I can break my iPhone and we can use the screen like a magnifying glass,” Martha suggested. Kim looked up at her and grinned.
“That’s a good idea. When we get far enough away from the bear, let’s find a sunny spot before the light fades too much. I really would like a big-ass fire before it gets dark,” Kim said. They moved farther away and edged around a bend in the river, the bear going out of sight. The both turned and began to walk quickly and looking over their shoulders. Kim didn’t think it wise to run, just in case the bear came around the bend.
“Over there, look. It’s a sunny place,” Martha said excitedly. They hurried over to the area; it was roughly twenty feet of sunlight that was slowly moving away.
“Quick, let’s gather dry grass and twigs, dried leaves and branches on the ground. Let’s get in the middle of the sunny area and see if we can get a fire going,” Kim suggested.
“We’re gonna sleep out there in open like that?” Martha asked, a worried expression creased her face.
“No, we can find another place, but we really need to get a fire going fast and we can take a couple of branches with fire to another area, that will be better for sleeping.”
Ten minutes later, they had a pile of dried leaves, dried moss, dead grass, twigs and smaller branches. They carefully made several piles, then Martha pulled the rock out of her pocket. She looked over at Kim and Kim smiled and nodded. Martha lifted the rock and was about to hit the phone when Kim stopped her.
“Hit it on the side, not the front. We want the full front of the phone if we can. The bigger the glass, the better,” Kim said.
“Shit, you’re right.” Martha raised the rock and turned the phone on its side. She brought the rock down and it made a crack and clack sound. Kim looked around them, afraid the bear might make its way to them. Around her, the birds were still calling and flitting around, but not as frantic as they had earlier in the day. It all sounded normal and peaceful, as though their world hadn’t been turned upside down. Kim peered into the trees and the lights were shifting more. She looked back at Martha who brought the rock up again and hit the phone. The front glass of the iPhone popped off clean and clear and Martha squealed with pleasure.
“Okay, let’s hold it up and see about aiming it at the pile of leaves. If it starts smoking, I’ll blow and add more twigs and moss,” Kim said, lowering her body to the ground. She grabbed a handful of dried grass and twigs as Martha angled the phone and moved it this way and that and then a shaft of light lit up the pile of dried grass and leaf litter. Kim held her breath as she watched the beam sit on the grass. Then she almost shouted with joy, a small tendril of smoke curled lazily up. She began to blow gently and saw the faintest glow of a spark. It grew and so did the smoke. The smoke thickened and then she saw a tiny flame. Carefully, she fed the grass and leaves in until there was a small fire. She added twigs now and both women watched as the fire grew, little by little.
“I think we have a fire,” Martha said, grinning.
“Thank God you had your phone. I don’t know if we could have gotten a fire going otherwise. Okay, let’s put those two larger branches on the edge of the fire until they’re really good and burning. Then, we put this fire out and find us a place for the night,” Kim said.
“What about food?” Martha said.
“I don’t know what kind of plants we can eat. Maybe if we make a nice camp, we can come back and try to catch a fish,” Kim said.
“Yeah. I have no idea how to fish.”
“Me either, but we can try at least.” Kim picked up the branch and a handful of leaves and grass. Martha stuffed leaves into her apron pocket and put the rock back in as well. She picked up the other burning branch and both kicked dirt over the small fire. Satisfied it was smothered and wouldn’t burn down the forest, Kim turned and walked toward the tree line.
“Are we gonna go back into the forest?” Martha asked nervously.
“No, we can skirt it, I figure if we see a nice big downed tree, we can make a fire in front of it. You know, have the tree at our back,” Kim said.
“Good idea. You seem so relaxed; how do you do it? How are you not terrified?”
Kim stopped and looked at her, searching her face. She thought at first that Martha was being snide, but saw that she was sincere.
“I’m freaking out. I’m so scared, all I wanna do is lay down and cry. But I can’t, we can’t. If I keep walking, keep moving, I won’t fall apart. I keep thinking about my abuela. I feel like I’m dying inside.”
“I’m sorry. You just seem to be holding it together better than me,” Martha said and shrugged. They started walking again and Kim searched into the now darkening forest. The water was slower and not as loud along that stretch of the river. The insects were still buzzing and but now she heard tiny tree frogs beginning to peep in the depth of the forest. She felt the heat of Martha near her and both women looked around them nervously. After nearly twenty minutes of walking, Kim thought she saw a likely place. There were two massive eastern white pine trees that had been hit by lightning at some time in the past. The upper story of the trees were blackened and burned away leaving two huge trunks.
“Over there,” Kim nodded about twenty feet into the tree line. They made their way to the trees and Kim bent at the waist. There was roughly a four-foot clearance from the trunk to the ground. Both girls kicked the leaf litter away from the base of the dead trees. They gathered up the driest litter and made a pile and laid their branches down. Slowly, the smoke began to rise and the leaves began to smolder. Without a word, they gathered up deadfall branches and stacked them nearby. As the fire caught and grew, each of the women fed larger twigs and branches into the fire. Soon, there was a hot fire burning.
“Let’s get a large supply of wood, so we can feed it throughout the night. Then, let’s take a burning branch with us and go see if we can catch some fish,” Martha suggested.
“That sounds like a good idea. I’m so damned hungry.”
Both moved toward the river, throwing larger deadfall backwards toward their camp. They would pick up the branches on their way back. Kim looked up and down the shoreline but didn’t see the bear. She was glad and she hoped the smell of the fire would keep it away. She was tired, as tired as she’d ever been. Her brain felt numb and paralyzed with fear, sorrow and confusion. She tamped it down. Tonight, she would grieve. Tonight, she would let her tears fall and let her soul bleed for the loss of her time and her abuela.
Standing at the shore, she looked around. There were tiny fish in the shallows and the sinking sun glinted off their scales. She looked around her and saw cattails farther down and water weeds. Squatting, she lifted a rock and found a small crustacean, a crayfish. It was about two inches long and she smiled. Small lobsters, you couldn’t get much better than that.
“If we can gather those, we can throw them into the fire,” she said, looking over her shoulder at Martha, who had taken off her coif and swished it around in the water.
“We can put them in here. If you pick them up, I’ll hold them in this hat,” Martha offered, holding the hat far out in front of her.
“Seriously, you aren’t gonna pick any up?” Kim said and laughed.
“You want me to start screaming again? That stuff gives me the creeps,” Martha said.
“Fine. Just don’t drop them, cause if you do, I’ll eat what’s left and you go hungry,” Kim said with all seriousness, the smile gone from her face. She was hungry and if Martha was too squeamish to help or dropped the food, Kim was going to be angry. Kim was normally even tempered and easy going, but there was a hidden rage within her. It had started when her parents had died. As a small child, she had been left alone and then her abuela took her. The loss of her parents crushed her and left a small kernel of rage residing in her tender young heart. With the hell that they were facing and the hunger that was chewing away at her insides, Kim was on the edge of an explosion.
Martha stared down into the dark brown eyes and felt a shiver. She’d known Kim most of her life, but she’d never seen the iron that she saw now. Kim wasn’t joking or just saying those words. Martha knew in her heart that Kim would not let her eat anything, if she dropped the food. She could only nod and held out the wet hat. She watched as Kim moved one rock after another and she watched as the horrible creepy crawly things tried to scurry away, their many feet moving rapidly. She wasn’t even sure if she could eat those creatures. She shivered but held onto the cap tightly. She watched as little by little the cap was filled with roughly a handful each for them.
Both jerked when they heard a loud snap and they looked around. Martha wanted to scream again and looked down at Kim. Kim stood and stuck her hands under her armpits, her face filled with a pained expression.
“Let’s go back to the fire and let’s cook these things,” she said and turned to walk back to their camp. Martha followed and watched as Kim picked up the discarded deadfall. When they got to the camp, Kim threw some of the branches onto the fire and stacked the rest. Sparks flew out and around them.
“How are we gonna cook these things?” she asked.
“Let me pick some of the maple leaves from the trees around here. We can put a bunch together, overlap them and dump the crayfish on the leaves and roll them up. Then, stick them in the fire. That should cook them without burning them too badly.”
“That’s not a whole lot of food,” Martha said dubiously.
“You’re more than welcome to go back out to the river and dig more up. My hands are about numb and I’m tired. I also think that bear might be around and I’m not leaving this fire,” Kim said, a challenge in her eyes.
“Fine. Fine. Okay. I guess this is better than nothing,” she huffed. She watched as Kim walked over to several maple saplings and began to pull leaves off. She came back over and squatted by the fire. Martha watched as Kim laid the leaves out, overlapping them and forming a large square.
“Okay, dump those things in the middle of the leaves,” Kim said. Martha upended her cap and made a heap of the squiggly things and Kim carefully folded the leaves over, making a package. She then took a branch and moved some of the coals away and laid the wrapped leaves down on the coals. She raked the burning branches over the folded leaves. Smoke immediately started rising and Martha heard the sizzling of water. She sighed and sat down beside the fire and smiled wanly over to Kim, who returned the smile.
Both young women sat quietly staring at the fire. Martha noted the sounds of the forest quieting around them. There were frogs croaking loudly by the river, bullfrogs she thought. The birds were settling in around them and above them and they spoke softly of their busy bird day. The air around them began to cool and the heat from the fire radiated off her face. Her loose hair lifted from the heat currents. She scooted back away from the fire. She reached over and added a branch. She sighed heavily and felt her eyes prickle. Why was this happening to her? She didn’t deserve this. Her parents did, but not her. It wasn’t fair, it just wasn’t fair and Kim was being a little controlling bitch. Now that she thought about it, it made her angry. It wasn’t her fault that she didn’t want to touch those things.
Her stomach growled loudly and she pressed her hands into her stomach. She had spent most of her teenage years controlling her intake of food. Fearful of getting fat, just as her own mother had told her over and over, no one likes a fat girl. She’d been monitored most of her life with eating and now, Kim was trying to do the same. If it weren’t for her phone, they wouldn’t have a fire that was keeping them safe and warm. But she kept her mouth shut, remembering the look in Kim’s eyes.
“I think it’s ready. I’ll rake it out and when we open it, watch your fingers, the steam will burn you,” Kim said and moved the firewood away from the packet, which was now black. She moved the bundle toward them and carefully peeled the leaves back. Martha took the tips of the leaves and pulled back. Steam rose up and she wasn’t sure if she wanted to devour the mess or vomit at the sight of it.
“How do we eat this?” Martha said, her lip curling.
“I have no idea, but I’m going to try,” Kim said and laughed shakily. She had to agree, there was nothing else for it, it was either try or starve. She wasn’t going to starve.
Kim gingerly picked up one of the little creatures. It reminded her of a tiny lobster. She shrugged and broke the tail off and sucked on it. Her eyes widened; it was good. Sweet.
“It’s good. It’s almost like lobster or shrimp. It’s good,” she said and grinned when Martha gingerly picked one up. Kim took one of the tiny legs and popped it in her mouth. It was crunchy but she ate it anyway. She was hungry. Kim ate slowly, knowing that it was all she would get for the night. She heard Martha groan in pleasure. It wasn’t much food, especially with all the walking they had done earlier today. But it would keep the hunger pangs away. She sighed heavily and wiped the wispy hair from her eyes with her wrist. The air around her seemed heavier as the shadows deepened around them. She could no longer see deep into the woods.
They were finished eating within a few minutes, it hadn’t been much, but Kim was grateful that they found a food source. Tomorrow morning, she would get more. She wished she knew more about the plants around them. She didn’t know what was edible. She sighed. They needed to find people. She shivered at the thought of finding possibly whites, who had slaves and would want to make her a slave. Her brain baulked at it. Could she act the part? Would she have a choice? When were they? Before the Revolutionary war? Civil war? Before the Europeans came to the country or were they in the early 20th century? There was bigotry then, even now or what was now in her own time. It was just under the surface, waiting for an opportunity to raise its ugly head.
She looked over at Martha and wondered how she would fare int this time? The locket portrait had disappeared, did that mean they had gone back before the woman in the locket had been born? Was she a witch? Was she alive and her portrait not yet painted? What did it all mean? Kim felt the sting of tears and let them fall now. Now she could grieve and she let the sobs come forth and break from her chest. She drew her knees up to her chest and rocked back and forth, hugging her knees. A low keening escaped from her mouth and she laid her head on her knees.
“Abuela, abuela. Siento haberme ido. Y ate extrano. I’m sorry I’m gone. I miss you already. I love you,” she said softly into her chest. She felt Martha’s arms around her and felt her shaking. She heard Martha’s soft crying and the girls held onto each other for comfort and shared their pain. After a time, the tears eased and Kim was exhausted. She pulled over a few more sticks and branches. Placing them on the fire, she laid down facing the flames. Martha was behind her and curled her body around Kim. The air around them was cool and Martha had taken off her apron and laid it across them both.
It was full dark now and Kim watched as the fire ate away at the wood. The glow of the hot embers gave her a feeling of comfort and safety. She knew it was false, but she chose to accept it and her eyes grew heavy. She was willing to let sleep take her; she could not stay awake all night.
Watch over us please and watch over my abuela, I know she’s heartbroken by now, Kim prayed.
THREE
George Putnam and his nephew, Philip, rode along the dusty lane. They had just left Boston proper that morning and were traveling north along the Old Ipswich Road. There was unsettle and unrest in Boston. There had been a mob back in April that had been running riotous over the city. The militia now swarmed the streets. You couldn’t turn a corner without tripping over one of them. There was a struggle over governmental control. It did not bode well for any of them. He had gone to Boston, taking his nephew with him. He was teaching his eighteen-year-old nephew the art of being a diligent sheriff. He and Philip had escorted a prisoner from Salem Town down to Boston. They had turned the miscreant over to Magistrate William Barns. The prisoner, Randolph Wren, had been accused of embezzlement by one of the merchants in Salem Town. George was glad to have the man off his hands and out of Boston. The militia made him nervous and tensions were still high.
It was a long two-day journey down to Boston and he didn’t like having to turn around and head home so quickly. But with the unrest in the city and with his nephew in tow, he thought it wise not to linger. He would rather have come alone on the trip, but his wife, Prudence, had urged him to take Philip along. Philip was a good boy, if not a little odd. The young man seemed to daydream and sketch on most any surface with charcoal from the fires. There had been times when he’d sat on a bench, only to find the seat of his breeches covered in ash. He was a devoted young man and George found no fault with the young man’s devotion to God. But Philip was a burden and George was feeling the pinch in his coffers. He was already in debt to Samuel Mathers and with Philip there, he was another mouth to feed. Between Prudence and Philip, the two were eating him out of house and home. Prudence’s ailing brother had spent the winter with them and between the medical bills and Philip’s appetite, George had been at his wit’s end. Prudence’s brother had gone onto heaven but had left his son planted squarely in his home.
His eyes slid over to the rotund young man who sat his horse clumsily. He shook his head. But bear this for the love of his God, he would most certainly try. He thought it wouldn’t be so bad if Prudence didn’t baby the lad so. Philip had acquitted himself well when dealing with the prisoner. Perhaps there was hope for the young man yet.
