Read Online Earthbound: Science Fiction in the Old West (Chronicles of the Maca Book 1) by Mari Collier - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Mari Collier
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was so thick the woman had to grasp first one side and then the next. Instead of hair that hung to her hips, Anna's hair now hung to her shoulders.
“Tell her to use the inside of the cattails as a bandage for her fingers. If she starts acting like a human being, she will be allowed to become a Comanche once the other stops. If she tries to come out of here before it stops she will die. Someone will push in food and water. It will be enough to keep her alive. She will be cleansed once this is over. When one of the other women enters, she is to stay away from them or she will die.” After the translation, the group filed out.
There was no fire in the fire pit as it was summer. The upper tepee flap stayed open in summer, but now it was laced shut. Since Anna had no pelt or blanket to bring with her, there was nothing to sleep on but the ground. Anna came up on her knees. Gall was in her mouth and frantic thoughts of her children in her mind. Should she rush out and end it all? But her children, where were they? Where were her sons, her beautiful Margareatha? If she died, she would never find them again, and she closed her eyes. A low moan escaped from her lips and she began praying. She found she could not. Her body ached from the blows and her hands were wracked with pain. The bleeding from her fingers had slowed. If she let it continue, she could still die and what of her milk? It had diminished because of that strenuous trek and insufficient water, but there was still milk. If it hardened inside her breasts, she would have mastitis.
“Oh, my God, my Lord, help me to understand. What am I to do?” The wail became a primeval scream. She beat her fists on the ground, unmindful of the pain and the blood. She stood and stalked the width of the teepee and back. She wanted to kill, but she was naked and had no weapon. The dress they had given her lay crumpled where it had fallen during the fight.
Exhaustion finally stilled her wild movements and occasional scream. She collapsed onto the hardened dirt floor and slept.
In the morning, someone pushed in a water bag and a bowl of cooked squash. Anna looked at it with distaste. What sort of disease lurked there? Since no one had left anything like a commode here, she had used a spot on the far side of the tepee. The smell had dissipated, but Anna dreaded what the odors would be like if she ate the squash. Her hands had swollen, but she used them to milk her breasts into the bowl. Her own milk she would drink. By afternoon she had drank some of the water and her mouth was still dry. She barely touched the squash but what little she ate was with her fingers. She needed to wash them, but there was no basin, no soap. Dear God, she would die here. She hid her face in her hands, but no tears came. Nothing emerged from her mouth but that wild scream.
* * *
The next morning another bowl of food and bag of water were pushed in. The woman peeked in to see if the other bowl was close and saw Anna. She began running, screaming for the old woman.
“Her hair, her hair, it has turned white.”
They found Anna glaring at them as they entered. The group stared. Anna had donned the buckskin dress, but it was ill fitting and far too short for her tall frame. The bodice was pulled tight. It was stained from the leaking milk. No one had arrived to escort her to a place of privacy and nature's leavings were in a pile in one corner; the odor permeated the entire area.
Whispering broke out. What could cause this? They had taken everything she brought with her. There was nothing in here that could have changed her hair color. Finally the oldest woman pointed at Anna and commanded.
“She is to clean that mess. Nothing has changed, but someone will escort her to the woman's area. Others will need to use this soon.”
The white woman who translated had light brownish hair and blue-green eyes.
“Clean it yourself.” Anna was still seething, anger overriding good sense.
The younger women looked
“Tell her to use the inside of the cattails as a bandage for her fingers. If she starts acting like a human being, she will be allowed to become a Comanche once the other stops. If she tries to come out of here before it stops she will die. Someone will push in food and water. It will be enough to keep her alive. She will be cleansed once this is over. When one of the other women enters, she is to stay away from them or she will die.” After the translation, the group filed out.
There was no fire in the fire pit as it was summer. The upper tepee flap stayed open in summer, but now it was laced shut. Since Anna had no pelt or blanket to bring with her, there was nothing to sleep on but the ground. Anna came up on her knees. Gall was in her mouth and frantic thoughts of her children in her mind. Should she rush out and end it all? But her children, where were they? Where were her sons, her beautiful Margareatha? If she died, she would never find them again, and she closed her eyes. A low moan escaped from her lips and she began praying. She found she could not. Her body ached from the blows and her hands were wracked with pain. The bleeding from her fingers had slowed. If she let it continue, she could still die and what of her milk? It had diminished because of that strenuous trek and insufficient water, but there was still milk. If it hardened inside her breasts, she would have mastitis.
“Oh, my God, my Lord, help me to understand. What am I to do?” The wail became a primeval scream. She beat her fists on the ground, unmindful of the pain and the blood. She stood and stalked the width of the teepee and back. She wanted to kill, but she was naked and had no weapon. The dress they had given her lay crumpled where it had fallen during the fight.
Exhaustion finally stilled her wild movements and occasional scream. She collapsed onto the hardened dirt floor and slept.
In the morning, someone pushed in a water bag and a bowl of cooked squash. Anna looked at it with distaste. What sort of disease lurked there? Since no one had left anything like a commode here, she had used a spot on the far side of the tepee. The smell had dissipated, but Anna dreaded what the odors would be like if she ate the squash. Her hands had swollen, but she used them to milk her breasts into the bowl. Her own milk she would drink. By afternoon she had drank some of the water and her mouth was still dry. She barely touched the squash but what little she ate was with her fingers. She needed to wash them, but there was no basin, no soap. Dear God, she would die here. She hid her face in her hands, but no tears came. Nothing emerged from her mouth but that wild scream.
* * *
The next morning another bowl of food and bag of water were pushed in. The woman peeked in to see if the other bowl was close and saw Anna. She began running, screaming for the old woman.
“Her hair, her hair, it has turned white.”
They found Anna glaring at them as they entered. The group stared. Anna had donned the buckskin dress, but it was ill fitting and far too short for her tall frame. The bodice was pulled tight. It was stained from the leaking milk. No one had arrived to escort her to a place of privacy and nature's leavings were in a pile in one corner; the odor permeated the entire area.
Whispering broke out. What could cause this? They had taken everything she brought with her. There was nothing in here that could have changed her hair color. Finally the oldest woman pointed at Anna and commanded.
“She is to clean that mess. Nothing has changed, but someone will escort her to the woman's area. Others will need to use this soon.”
The white woman who translated had light brownish hair and blue-green eyes.
“Clean it yourself.” Anna was still seething, anger overriding good sense.
The younger women looked
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