Into the Wilderness
Page 156
"No," Elizabeth said firmly. "There's nothing to tell. There was a stray dog in the camp in the morning, and now he's gone."
Nathaniel looked at her for a good time.
"Come out and say what you're thinking," Elizabeth said finally.
He shrugged. "Robbie has a blessing."
Elizabeth was struggling to be reasonable, and failing. "I'm not sure what relevance that has to the topic at hand," she said, knowing how petty she sounded.
"Then listen," Nathaniel said, and his voice went into another register, light and with a rhythm that was not his own:
I wish ye the shelterin' o' the king o' kings
I wish ye the shelterin' o' Jesus Christ
To ye the shelterin' spirit o' healin',
To' keep ye fro' evil deed and quarrel,
Fra' evil dog and red dog."
Elizabeth stood up abruptly, holding her bloodied hands away from her. "It was not an evil dog, it was a perfectly nice one, although it did smell distinctly of skunk. Could not have been more real. Now if you've had enough fun at my expense, I'm going to see how Joe is doing."
Nathaniel stood up to intercept her, catching her shoulders with the heels of his hands. "I'm sorry," he said with a half grin. "I won't tease anymore."
She hesitated. "I still must go look in on Joe."
"But you'll come back?"
"Eventually," said Elizabeth.
* * *
They had a tense afternoon, focused as they were on Joe and his needs, and the chores, and getting provisions ready. Nathaniel hummed along when Joe sang the mass, and this set Elizabeth's nerves even more on edge. She checked on Joe in the late afternoon. He roused himself enough to drink a sip of water, but he seemed barely to know her. Elizabeth sat watching him for a while, and then she went out to pace the little clearing up and down, making wide curves around the pits. Nathaniel had climbed down into one of them to pull up the stakes, which he threw on the fire one by one.
Elizabeth stopped suddenly, turning toward her husband. "I'd like to bathe."
He inclined his head. "What about your foot?"
"I've been walking on it all day without discomfort," she said. "And I smell. Come down to the lake with me."
Nathaniel shook his head. "I want to get two more of these cleaned out first," he said. "If we're going to leave tomorrow—”
“Are we leaving tomorrow?" asked Elizabeth.
He met her eye, and then nodded. "I would guess we are. And I don't think much of leaving these for somebody to fall into."
"Nathaniel, I know we don't have a lot of time, but please come along," she said, trying not to wheedle but not quite succeeding. She had an urge to be away from the clearing, but she did not like herself for it.
"You go on ahead," Nathaniel said. "I'll follow in a bit."
She turned almost before he had finished speaking, but turned back reluctantly.
"Perhaps we shouldn't leave him."
"I think he'll be fine for an hour," said Nathaniel. "I'll check in on him before I come down."
Elizabeth set off quickly and in just a few minutes she was standing on the lakeshore. It was a beautiful afternoon, sunny and clear, and there was no sign of black fly anywhere, just the squabbling of blackbirds and the melting, flute—like song of a hermit thrush. With impatient fingers she undid her ties and stripped down to her shift, wrinkling her nose at her own smell. Once again she wished, fruitlessly, that she had not used the soap she had brought along so quickly.
It had been a long, warm day but the water was still quite cold. Standing in the lake to her knees, she undid her silver hair clasp, noting that it was already quite tarnished and needed a good polishing; another task that would have to wait until they could return home to Paradise, along with other chores such as mending her shift and trimming her hair. Carefully, she wrapped the silver clasp in her handkerchief, and tucked it under a rock on the bank.
Elizabeth ran her fingers through her plait, hastily combing it until her hair snapped and crackled around her all the way to her hips, and then she inhaled and submerged herself. She pushed herself in mercilessly, feeling the gooseflesh rise bump by bump. Under the water she opened her eyes, and came almost face to face with a turtle, which started away with a whoosh. In a mood suddenly euphoric and restored, she broke the surface of the water and began to swim slowly toward the small island in the middle of the lake.
She was tired by the time she reached it, and dragged herself up on the bank with arms slightly trembling. There was a patch of sunlight and a small grove of paper birches, slender as young girls, whispering among themselves in the breeze. Elizabeth used one of them to sit against, drawing up her knees under her chin and lifting her face to the sunlight. Her hair hung veil like around her, the shorter strands around her face already lifting and drying in the breeze, curling and twisting lazily. Between her breasts Joe's disk and Nathaniel's pearl cluster felt slightly cold against her wet skin.
On the lake there was little sign of wildlife, with the exception of the usual birds fishing. Elizabeth had noted that there were no beaver, and she wondered why that was. On most lakes this size they had seen evidence of them, but there were none here at all. It occurred to her that Joe had probably chosen this lake for that reason, as it would be of less interest to the trappers. The thought of Joe made her think in turn of Nathaniel, and she glanced into the forest where she knew he would appear, but saw no sign of him.
Nathaniel looked at her for a good time.
"Come out and say what you're thinking," Elizabeth said finally.
He shrugged. "Robbie has a blessing."
Elizabeth was struggling to be reasonable, and failing. "I'm not sure what relevance that has to the topic at hand," she said, knowing how petty she sounded.
"Then listen," Nathaniel said, and his voice went into another register, light and with a rhythm that was not his own:
I wish ye the shelterin' o' the king o' kings
I wish ye the shelterin' o' Jesus Christ
To ye the shelterin' spirit o' healin',
To' keep ye fro' evil deed and quarrel,
Fra' evil dog and red dog."
Elizabeth stood up abruptly, holding her bloodied hands away from her. "It was not an evil dog, it was a perfectly nice one, although it did smell distinctly of skunk. Could not have been more real. Now if you've had enough fun at my expense, I'm going to see how Joe is doing."
Nathaniel stood up to intercept her, catching her shoulders with the heels of his hands. "I'm sorry," he said with a half grin. "I won't tease anymore."
She hesitated. "I still must go look in on Joe."
"But you'll come back?"
"Eventually," said Elizabeth.
* * *
They had a tense afternoon, focused as they were on Joe and his needs, and the chores, and getting provisions ready. Nathaniel hummed along when Joe sang the mass, and this set Elizabeth's nerves even more on edge. She checked on Joe in the late afternoon. He roused himself enough to drink a sip of water, but he seemed barely to know her. Elizabeth sat watching him for a while, and then she went out to pace the little clearing up and down, making wide curves around the pits. Nathaniel had climbed down into one of them to pull up the stakes, which he threw on the fire one by one.
Elizabeth stopped suddenly, turning toward her husband. "I'd like to bathe."
He inclined his head. "What about your foot?"
"I've been walking on it all day without discomfort," she said. "And I smell. Come down to the lake with me."
Nathaniel shook his head. "I want to get two more of these cleaned out first," he said. "If we're going to leave tomorrow—”
“Are we leaving tomorrow?" asked Elizabeth.
He met her eye, and then nodded. "I would guess we are. And I don't think much of leaving these for somebody to fall into."
"Nathaniel, I know we don't have a lot of time, but please come along," she said, trying not to wheedle but not quite succeeding. She had an urge to be away from the clearing, but she did not like herself for it.
"You go on ahead," Nathaniel said. "I'll follow in a bit."
She turned almost before he had finished speaking, but turned back reluctantly.
"Perhaps we shouldn't leave him."
"I think he'll be fine for an hour," said Nathaniel. "I'll check in on him before I come down."
Elizabeth set off quickly and in just a few minutes she was standing on the lakeshore. It was a beautiful afternoon, sunny and clear, and there was no sign of black fly anywhere, just the squabbling of blackbirds and the melting, flute—like song of a hermit thrush. With impatient fingers she undid her ties and stripped down to her shift, wrinkling her nose at her own smell. Once again she wished, fruitlessly, that she had not used the soap she had brought along so quickly.
It had been a long, warm day but the water was still quite cold. Standing in the lake to her knees, she undid her silver hair clasp, noting that it was already quite tarnished and needed a good polishing; another task that would have to wait until they could return home to Paradise, along with other chores such as mending her shift and trimming her hair. Carefully, she wrapped the silver clasp in her handkerchief, and tucked it under a rock on the bank.
Elizabeth ran her fingers through her plait, hastily combing it until her hair snapped and crackled around her all the way to her hips, and then she inhaled and submerged herself. She pushed herself in mercilessly, feeling the gooseflesh rise bump by bump. Under the water she opened her eyes, and came almost face to face with a turtle, which started away with a whoosh. In a mood suddenly euphoric and restored, she broke the surface of the water and began to swim slowly toward the small island in the middle of the lake.
She was tired by the time she reached it, and dragged herself up on the bank with arms slightly trembling. There was a patch of sunlight and a small grove of paper birches, slender as young girls, whispering among themselves in the breeze. Elizabeth used one of them to sit against, drawing up her knees under her chin and lifting her face to the sunlight. Her hair hung veil like around her, the shorter strands around her face already lifting and drying in the breeze, curling and twisting lazily. Between her breasts Joe's disk and Nathaniel's pearl cluster felt slightly cold against her wet skin.
On the lake there was little sign of wildlife, with the exception of the usual birds fishing. Elizabeth had noted that there were no beaver, and she wondered why that was. On most lakes this size they had seen evidence of them, but there were none here at all. It occurred to her that Joe had probably chosen this lake for that reason, as it would be of less interest to the trappers. The thought of Joe made her think in turn of Nathaniel, and she glanced into the forest where she knew he would appear, but saw no sign of him.
