No Time For Witches, page 5
Ψ
The raucous chirps of birds woke Martha. She blinked her eyes open reluctantly but she didn’t move. The day before had been physically and mentally difficult for her and now, opening her eyes, she just didn’t want to face the day. They had been back in time for three days now and they were getting nowhere fast. They had water to drink at least, but she was tired of eating the crustaceans and wanted something more substantial. She missed her own time desperately and was even beginning to miss her parents. She was sure that they were wondering where she was. Would they care?
Yesterday had been brutal and she and Kim got into a fight. Martha had screamed when she saw what she thought was a giant rat.
“It’s a possum. Do you have to scream every time you see something?” Kim had yelled, throwing her hands in the air. Martha had never seen one of those possum things except for in pictures. This thing looked like a ginormous rat and had frightened her badly. She didn’t know what Kim wanted from her. She was doing the best she could. Both were on edge and their nerves rubbed raw. They were starving to death and they had found no other humans in three days. Maybe they were way back in prehistoric times? Before the first humans? She felt the tears sting the back of her eyelids and closed her eyes. She didn’t want to open her eyes and face the day. She wanted to go home and she wouldn’t care that her parents were pains in the ass. She wouldn’t be mad at Stephen Putnam either and she would stop tweeting nasty things about him and the bitch.
Her stomach complained and she tightened her hold on her stomach. She had never ever felt hunger like this. They were eating those small things, but even when they had a hat full of them, there was so little meat on them. Kim had made her gather them as well. Martha had refused at first and Kim had threatened her with not letting her eat what she had gathered. Martha squeezed her eyes tighter, remembering the quarrel with resentment. The water had been so cold that it was painful to her hands. Within minutes, her hands were throbbing, feeling like blocks of wood and she could barely pick up the rocks to look beneath. If she weren’t so afraid of starving, she would have refused.
She had sat before the fire the night before angry. It had taken an hour for her hands to thaw out. And for what? Maybe a half a cup or so of actual meat? Her stomach complained again and she squeezed her eyes tighter and gritted her teeth. She just wanted to go home. She hated it here, she hated being out in the woods, she hated Kim for making her pick up those things. She hated her father for making her get that stupid job and she hated herself for taking that locket and ending up in this horrible place. She had wanted to turn back yesterday, to go back to the hanging tree and maybe see if they could go back to their own time. Kim had refused.
“How will we find it? I have no idea where we are now, how would we find it? Everything around us looks the same to me and it almost feels like we’re going around in circles. The river twists and turns on itself. How could we even find that tree?”
Martha hadn’t liked the logic of it and had pouted. Kim hadn’t given in. Martha had never felt so out of control in her life as she did now. She brought a knuckle up and wiped at the tears. She had never cried so much in her life and the fear just wouldn’t go away. Even at night by the fire, she kept waking up and looking around. Kim was completely passed out and she didn’t understand how she could just sleep like that? Is it me? she wondered. Am I so weak that I can’t face this new place? Martha had never thought of herself as weak and she didn’t like what she was learning about herself. I’ll be braver, I’ll do better. She shifted again and then froze, something was moving by her leg and it felt cool.
Shifting up, she looked down at her legs. A terrified shriek flew from her mouth as she jerked her body backwards, nearly into the dying fire. She rolled away, kicking and screaming at the top of her lungs. Kim rolled over and flung herself up, raising a branch, her hair wild around her and her eyes large with fear.
“A snake! A big fucking snake!” Martha screamed and pointed at the four-foot black snake. Her hand trembled as she pointed to it. She watched in horror as Kim walked over with her stick and shoved it under the large snake and flipped it into the woods, where it slithered away.
“Why didn’t you kill it? My God, it could have bitten me. I could have died,” Martha screamed. She felt at her breaking point and a small part of her stood by and watched her lose control.
Kim looked around for any other snakes that might have wanted a bit of warmth.
“It was a black snake, it wasn’t venomous. It was probably just wanting to get warm,” Kim said tiredly. Kim sat down and threw the stick into the dying fire and then added a few more sticks and branches. Slowly, the fire began to grow and she put her hand out over the heat rising. She was so tired and with Martha screaming and jolting her at every turn, Kim’s nerves were stretched. She didn’t scold Martha; she knew that she was terrified of their new world. She was too, her stomach was in knots all the time and starving to death didn’t help. At least they had water she kept reminding herself. Three days and her heart twisted. I know she’s losing her mind, she thought. Her abuela was constantly on her mind. It tore at her to think of the fear and grief her abuela was facing with her disappearance.
She had wakened often during the nights to add wood to the fire and also woke from dreams of home. She stared into the flames and felt rather than saw Martha sit near her. She felt so old, the stress and depravation were taking their toll and Kim wondered if she would shatter at some point, never to be whole again?
“Sorry,” Martha said.
“It’s okay, I think I would have freaked out too if I woke up to a snake cuddled up next to me,” Kim said and smiled wanly. She rubbed her hands over her face and her eyes hurt. Her head hurt and she knew it was from hunger. Hunger was their constant companion now. If she had only pay attention to the programs about nature. They did find a patch of raspberries but they had been picked over and what was left was green. They had maybe a handful of berries between them and she’d had to stop Martha from eating the green ones. Martha hadn’t been happy, but Kim was sure that she would have really been upset with a stomach ache and diarrhea. She felt weak and lightheaded at times. Before they started walking this morning, they would gather more crayfish and cook them.
Martha hadn’t wanted to collect them, but Kim’s hands could only withstand the cold water for so long. If they wanted volume, she needed Martha’s help in collecting them. She looked over and felt bad for Martha. She had dark shadows under her eyes and her hair was wild and tangled. Her hand went up to her own hair and then she used her fingers to rake it into some semblance of order. She braided it as best she could and sighed heavily.
“You ready to go get some breakfast,” Kim asked, trying to make her voice cheerful.
“No, but I’m starving, so let’s go.”
It was late afternoon and Kim’s bladder was screaming. She figured she better pee before Martha screamed at something else and made her wet herself. Besides the snake this morning, Martha had screamed two more times. Kim worried for her and thought maybe Martha was getting near to cracking. They had been up in the tree line; they had found what she thought was a blackberry bramble. The berries were small, but there were several black ones. They had carefully plucked the tiny fruit and tasted them. They were sweet and wonderful. Then, something ran out from the bush, a chipmunk, Kim thought. That had sent Martha into a crazed screaming fit and Kim was afraid she might have to smack Martha to bring her to her senses.
Kim was torn between annoyance and worry for her friend. Martha wasn’t going to last if she kept losing it. It had startled Kim, but it hadn’t sent her over the edge. Then when they had walked along the shore of the river, a dragon fly had landed in Martha’s hair. She had screamed and batted at it. Kim sighed.
“Hold on, I gotta pee,” she said and went around a thick stand of bushes. She plucked handfuls of broadleaves as she went. She sighed happily and finished up. She was about to stand when Martha let out a shrilled and ear-splitting scream. Kim nearly fell forward on her face before she could get her underwear pulled up. She had washed her panties yesterday at the riverbank and had dried it last night by the fire. She had used the fine sand in the river to clean it as best she could. Kim managed to pull her underwear up and stood and watched open mouthed as Martha ran into the forest, her arms waving wildly and her red hair streaming behind her.
It was a second or two before she realized that she wasn’t alone. She turned her head and her heart shot up into her chest. Seven men stood with their mouths hanging open, watching Martha run pell-mell deeper into the woods. Her screams trailed behind her and grew distant as she disappeared from sight. Then one of the men seemed to notice her and he nudged the man next to him and nodded toward her. The neurons exploded quickly as she took them all in at once. Tall slender men, bronzed by the sun, watched her with curiosity in their dark eyes. All of them were nearly bald and sported a crest of long hair that went down the center of their heads. Some had feathers attached to the topknot, while others had shells and bits of metal attached. Part of her mind was surprised to see some of them sporting earrings that dangled.
The men looked at her inquisitively, but she felt no hostility from them, nor was there any sign of threat or aggression. She swallowed, she hoped she had learned her words correctly.
“Kwe, hello,” she said and lifted a hand and waved it a little. She saw a slight smile from one of the men, he looked to be about her age and had a flat silver disk in his nose. The disk rested just above his upper lip.
“Kwe,” an older man said. He had a serious face and had dots tattooed down from under his left eye that curved along his cheek. He also wore a dangling earing of shells and metal bits.
“Kimi nindijinikaz, my name is Kimi,” she said softly, she figured she might as well use a name they would recognize and it reminded her of her grandmother.
“Wematin nindijinikaz, my name is Setting Sun,” Wematin said. He had spoken the same word as she had, but it sounded a whole lot different. His inference was different but he had understood her and she was relieved. Several of the men shifted and she looked at each one. Their faces were placid and curious as they studied her. She saw keen intelligence behind their gazes.
“Where do you come from?” the young man with the nose ring asked. It took Kim a moment to translate the words in her head. They didn’t sound like she had learned but she thought she got the gist of what he was asking. She was going to have to learn their language quickly and learn it correctly.
“I am lost. What is your name?” she asked.
“Mingan nindijinikaz, my name is Gray Wolf. Should she come with us, father?” Mingan asked Wematin. She didn’t understand most, but she caught the word father. So Wematin was Mingan’s father.
“She is alone. The other ikwe, woman will be hard to catch,” Wematin said.
“She is wasi’chu, he what takes the best meat, white. We should leave the wasi’chu woman alone. We should get back to the village, it grows late,” another man said.
“Then we shall take this girl. There may be other wasi’chu nearby,” Wematin said. Their words were rapid and she could barely follow and understand, but she did get the fact that they would not go after Martha and they were taking her. She was now in a dilemma. If she tried to follow Martha, she would have to try and find her first. If she could find her at all. And, if they ran into white people, the whites might kill her before she could let them know she wasn’t an indigenous person.
They would not believe her of course and more than likely whoever found her would either kill her, rape her or make her a slave, or all of the above. If she asked these men to get Martha, would that endanger them and their people having Martha there with them? How would they treat her? Would Martha even come with them? Her eyes stung with tears. This is where we part way, I guess. Please watch over Martha, Lord, she thought with sorrow.
She could not follow Martha; she could not live among the whites of this time. She knew her life would be a living hell. It might well be that way with these people, but she didn’t get the sense that they meant her any harm. She could not understand all their words, but their body language and the gazes of the men were neither hostile nor lascivious. She didn’t fear she would be raped by any of them. She was pretty sure she wouldn’t fare as well with the colonists, if there were colonists.
She felt a light touch to her arm and she looked up at Mingan. He smiled and nodded toward the other men, who were now moving in the opposite direction that Martha had gone. She tried to smile but her lips trembled.
“Aw mi sai, migwech, are you, all right? Are you okay?” Mingan asked softly, his large dark eyes kind and seemed to understand. It took her a moment or two to understand his words. They were so very different from what she’d learned. Maybe if a Wabanaki had taught her it would have been different, but she’d learned from the internet and what she’d found on the museum website.
“Yes. I’m okay,” she said, trying to articulate the words to make them sound as his had. She walked beside him as the other, older men moved ahead. All of the men were quiet and so she kept quiet as well. They came upon a deer that had been killed and was tied to a long branch. Two of the men picked it up and slung it over their shoulder, each in tandem. All the men wore unadorned breechclouts. She took in a kind of leather belt that fit low over their hips. Some carried axes and others carried long tomahawks. All men carried longbows and a quiver of arrows. She noted that they all carried knives as well, some of the sheaths were decorated with shells and painted.
All of them were deep burnished cedar color, their skin darked by life lived outdoors. They looked strong and healthy and fit. There wasn’t an ounce of fat on any of them. Several of the men were barefooted while others wore moccasins. She noticed that the young man also wore some kind of leggings, from the knees down. She thought it was to protect his lower legs, but she wasn’t sure. Some of the men sported tattoos on their bodies. She caught the scent of the men, they all smelled of musk and male. They didn’t stink per se, they smelled of the earth, literally like the dirt and plants around them, mixed with male. She hoped that she didn’t stink and felt heat creep up her face. She and Martha had taken a kind of bath that morning, using the sand and grit from the river. It was so cold that it wasn’t a long bath and Martha had squealed the whole time. She could only grit her teeth to get through it. Both had been stark naked and fearful at that moment; someone would stumble upon them. No one had and now Martha was out there in the woods on her own, running away from them.
It struck her then that Martha had left her behind, no word of run, she just screamed and left her. There was a tiny kernel of resentment, because this could have gone very badly for Kim. The men had called the whites, wasi’chu, he what takes the best meat. Was that what they thought of the white man? They weren’t wrong. In school, no matter what they said, everyone knew that land was being gobbled up by the colonists and the indigenous people were being pushed back and exterminated.
She had been curious about her background when she’d been sixteen. She had asked her grandmother if she could send in her DNA to see where they landed on the family tree, her abuela had agreed. When she’d gotten the results of her DNA profile, she’d found out that she had indigenous blood, it said that her people came from this area. Were they the Algonquin or Wabanaki? A combination? She had looked at the percentages and wondered at it. Eighteen percent native. Did that mean that an arm was native, a leg was African, a torso was Puerto Rican? Some of her came from Spain and a small portion from Russia. She knew once more that she didn’t like labels, she didn’t want to be dissected and told what she was or wasn’t. She was Kim, time traveler extraordinaire.
She had always thought that all humans were connected, regardless of what they looked like on the outside. She’d seen the program that had traced down the origins of humankind. The program said they each carried that same precious DNA strand. Her mind went again to Martha and her heart squeezed. If she couldn’t find a white settlement, she would die of starvation or perhaps see a bear and run. It would chase her down and kill her. She swallowed hard. If she ran into another group of Indians, they might take her, but she might fight them. She sent up another prayer for her friend. She hoped that Martha found a home, someone to help her and care for her. Kim blinked and a tear slid down her face.
Ψ
Martha’s breath was coming in hitched sobs as she ran, tripped and fell on her face, got up and ran some more. She had stopped screaming since she couldn’t run, breathe and scream at the same time. At some point, she fell down an embankment and scrambled up, looking behind. She kept running and didn’t stop until she collapsed. Despairing sobs escaped from her in breathless gasps. She clutched the leaves on the ground, her hands shaking wildly. She looked over her shoulder, expecting Kim behind her. But she heard nothing but the heavy beating of her heart in her ears.
As she laid in the leaf litter, her breaths slowed and her heart rate dropped. She wanted to call out for Kim, so Kim could find her, but she was afraid that the Indians had followed. Was Kim dead even now? Raped, beaten? That started Martha crying all over again. She curled into a ball and rocked. Her filthy hand was over her mouth, trying to keep quiet. Why hadn’t Kim followed her? She wiped at the snot and tears and looked around her. It was late afternoon, edging into evening. She needed to make camp but there was no direct sunlight streaming in. She moved, slowly and painfully getting up. She turned around in a circle. She could not hear the water and she couldn’t see the sun, just the glow through the trees.
Listening intently, she moved toward the brightest spot of sun coming through the dense canopy. Her hand went to her pocket, for the glass and she jolted to a stop. Her hands lifted the apron and looked disbelievingly. The iPhone glass was gone! She could not make a fire, she could not cook food, if she found it. Her mouth moved silently but she couldn’t speak and she couldn’t cry. Her brain was in shock, first from the Indians and the loss of Kim, but now, she had no way to make a fire, to keep the animals at bay.
