Chapter 9.1

Sara looked at her phone to see it was nearly four in the morning, and she was wide awake. After sleeping for so long the previous day, she knew that it would be futile to lie down and attempt to sleep. Starting her day very early seemed to be the best option. 

She carefully stretched, checking to see if her pulled muscles she had been favoring were feeling better. To her relief, most of the sharp pains that she had after her fall were gone. She was still bruised and sore, which would slow her down when she was finally able to leave the cabin after the storms broke.

Sara began heating her pot of water to make her food for the day and coffee. She sat at the table as she waited and sipped from her water bottle. Listening to the rain earlier had helped her calm down and relax. She had never been frightened while camping the way she had been earlier. She dismissed what happened as stress and being stuck in the cabin until she felt better and the storm system passed.

Sara looked at the journal sitting on the table in front of her. She wanted to continue reading, but she felt apprehensive about picking up the book. It did not matter to her if she felt the sense of dread. She needed to continue learning about the men who lived in the cabin. Sara grabbed the journal and opened it to where she had left off.

December 6, 1879

Jim says he feels better this morning. I helped him sit up for a bit. He is frail and in a lot of pain. While I helped him sit, I could feel his chest rattle. I know he is hurt worse than he is telling me. He keeps having more bruising show up on his belly and chest. I am not a doctor, but I know that should not be happening now. It has been six days since the accident. His bruises should be healing, not getting worse.

This morning he ate some more fry bread and some of the soup on the stove. After that and drinking a little water and willow bark tea, he has gone back to sleep. It is not a deep sleep. It is the same restless, fitful sleep that he has been getting. I wish I knew of something that would help him sleep.

Jim asked me how bad my shoulder is hurt. I did not know what to tell him. I lied and told him it was just bruised badly. I know things are not right inside of it. I also know that if I tell him that, he will try to do more, and that will make him worse. I might not get better, but I also will not get worse if I keep doing what I am doing. He will get worse if he does not rest and take it easy until he heals more.

December 6, 1879

Second entry. I have been scooping the snow that is packed against the door and melting it for us to have water to drink. The last time I opened the door, it was snowing hard again, and the wind had blown the snow, filling up all the space I had managed to clear out. If the snow and wind keep up the way they are, they will bury this cabin completely. 

I am worried about the firewood I have inside. I am going through all of the pieces I can handle much faster than I want. If we run out of firewood in this cabin, I don’t know if I will be able to get to any that I have stacked against the outside walls. I started the wood stacks right beside the door, but I will have to dig them out, and I don’t know if I can. Having one of us get hurt is bad. With both of us being hurt, I don’t know if I will be able to keep things going. My two biggest worries right now are us running out of meat and out of wood. We won’t last long if we run out of either of those things. 

Sara marked her place in the journal, then got up to get a cup of hot water for her coffee and to cook her breakfast. As she stirred the water into her package of noodles, her heart sank. She again felt the guilt of having abundant food while Herschel struggled with the thought that he and Jim might not have enough to last through the blizzard. 

Sara picked up her tin coffee cup just as a crash of thunder sounded on top of the tiny cabin, making her jump. She grimaced as she flung the hot water off her hand and set the cup on the table.

“Figures,” Sara muttered. “Just what I need, burns on top of all the cuts and bruises while being stuck here because of the storms.”

Sara looked carefully at her hand to see the skin red and blotchy from the water. She did not see any signs of blistering and believed that it was only a first-degree burn. It was going to hurt for a while but was not serious. 

She pulled her first aid kit out of her backpack and began to dig through it. She was starting to become concerned she had left the burn cream out of it when it was packed but eventually found it. She rubbed the cream into her hand, thinking about how lucky she was that it was so simple for her to treat her injuries and illnesses. 

Sara sat down at the table, put away her first-aid kit, and made her cup of coffee. She stared into space as she slowly stirred. She wanted to be at home, snuggled up to her husband in bed. She sighed because even if she was at home in her bed, her husband was away for work. 

She looked at the journal sitting on the table. She hated starting a book and not finishing it. This journal was the same way to her. She had to finish it. She picked it up and began to read again.

December 6, 1879

Third entry. Jim sat in the chair at the table for a little while before we had supper. He says he is feeling quite a bit better. He was talking more than he has since he got hurt. He did start to cough after a while, so I helped him lay down again.  I could tell the coughing hurt him a lot. I gave him a cup of that willow bark tea, and it helped. He is asleep now.

I am worn out. I think I will try to get some sleep while I can before I have to get up again and take care of the fire. If the snow keeps falling, it is going to bury the cabin and us along with it.

December 6, 1879

Fourth entry. I can hear something walking on the roof. It is the same slow, plodding steps that I heard outside the cabin before. I pray that it leaves our chimney alone. We cannot do without the heat from that stove very long. Whatever it is, if it is here to kill us, I wish it would just do it and get it over with. 

December 7, 1879

This morning I had to use the stove poker to break through the snow above the doorway to be able to see the sky. We are completely buried. The stove pipe has stayed warm enough that the snow has not covered the top of the chimney. That is the only thing that will keep us alive now. I can hear the wind and feel it shaking this cabin even with us buried the way we are. 

Jim is still asleep this morning. He woke up during the night while I was stoking the fire. We talked for a little while before he went back to sleep. I stayed up a bit longer to make sure the fire caught up before I lay down and dozed off.

Sarah, my love, oh how I miss you, our home, and our life together. There is not a day that goes by that I don’t miss you, but being trapped in what could be our tomb by these storms makes me long for you like I never have. Even though you are gone, I love you more each day.

Jim just woke up and offered to help me make fry bread to go with our pot of soup I am keeping on the stove. I will take him up on his offer before he changes his mind.

Sara stuck the lightstick wrapper she had been using as a bookmark in the journal to save her place. She got up and went to the pot of water on the old cast-iron stove beside her gas-powered camp stove. She carefully stuck her little finger in the water to check the temperature before refilling her coffee cup for another round. 

Sara went back to the table and made her coffee as she thought about what she had just read. The thought of something stalking the cabin was disconcerting to her for several reasons. What would do that type of thing? Was it an animal that was injured, rabid, or sick in some other way? If it was looking for food, why did it not tear into the cabin? She knew the answers to her questions would not be answered unless she continued to read. Sara picked up the little book and began again.

December 7, 1879

Second entry. I told Jim about our situation. I told him everything, including about the snow, how bad my shoulder is, how we might be tight on food, and even about that thing skulking around at night. Jim expressed his displeasure at what I told him by yelling at me in three languages. 

He was not angry with me because of anything I did wrong. He was mad because I did not tell him sooner. There is nothing either of us can do about any of it right now, but at least we both know what we are up against. 

Jim started planning on how to ration our food to make it last the longest. Even with that, if this snow and these storms don’t break soon, we are in trouble. Jim seems to think that if he stays on the mend the way he is, he will be able to at least set some rabbit snares soon. I am telling him not to rush himself, but I know better than to argue with him. Jim will do what he wants no matter what I say.

Jim also began to tell me of all of the different things that it could be walking around the cabin each night. Every one of them is viler than the last. Some of the stories his people tell are the things of nightmares. They are also meant as warnings for many things. I guess to them, it is like some of the fairy tales we were told as kids or even like some of the stories in the Bible. 

Sarah, you would love the stories Jim tells me. I remember how much you loved to read and hear ghost stories. You were never afraid of anything or anyone. I feel like I need a bit of your bravery and courage now.

Sara leaned back and cradled her coffee cup in both hands. Herschel’s Sarah and her seemed to have several things in common. Both of the women loved to read. They both liked ghost and scary stories. Sara’s husband had told her she was brave many times, and now, reading that Herschel felt the same about his wife made her feel connected to her. Sara felt like they would be friends if they lived in the same century. 

The beep of a notification from Sara’s phone pulled her away from her musing. She looked at the screen and saw it was her husband, Kevin, texting her to ask if she was awake. Smiling as she picked up her phone, she replied she was and waited for his call.   

-