Escape

Escape

There was nothing more enticing than to leave the rambling old house, the endless chores, the child strewn yard, and dash into the surrounding woods. I never walked, I ran, my bare feet skimming the dirt worn paths, touching down here and there on a soft clump of grass. I could tramp as quietly through that forest as any Indian girl from over a century ago. The wind would play with my hair, tossing it about like a light feather. I loved the smell of the wood. It permeated me everywhere; my hair, my clothes my skin. That outdoorsy, trees, leaves, wind, sun kind of smell convinced me feel perhaps I was really an Indian girl who had been kidnapped and left in the woods far away from her village.

I stopped to take a breath. There was a small clearing between the trees. A log lay stoically across the path. It beckoned me to sit down. I did. With a few quick motions my eyes scanned the forest. Trees hugging each other for as far as the eye could see made me feel safe and protected. I listened. I could hear the song of a brook beyond the trees. Brook meant water to drink and fish to eat. I must be careful no white men see me. I stood up and began to follow the sound in my ears. Suddenly I stopped. White man’s voices were coming from behind. Surreptitiously I crouched behind a giant old oak tree and waited. Two young boys came into the clearing. They were laughing and punching each other on the shoulder. I stood very still. The enemy must not find me. They did not know I watched. “We’d better find her before Dad gets home,” one squealed. I slipped away and found the singing brook; it whistled a victory tune to me.  I knelt down at the water’s edge and cupped my hands. The water felt cool on my flushed face. I thought of my own village and the women lined along the river washing their clothes, tanning the hides and chewing the leather to make it soft. I thought of my father Gray Wolf and knew he would pursue me relentlessly even though I was a girl child. I looked around to see what I could use to build a shelter. The tall hemlocks and pine trees stood protectively around me and my heart became calm and peaceful. I always felt the tall trees were like sentries watching over me. Suddenly I heard the snapping of twigs and footsteps broke the calm. I stood still as a doe and held my breath. The white man was capably of terrible deeds. I could become his prisoner, a slave or perhaps his dinner. My heart started beating like a war drum and I looked up to the tree with pleading eyes. A bobolink perched on a branch and began to sing out a warning. The trees parted and the two boys came into the clearing. The older one looked at me angrily and said “You better get home right now Barbara and set the table, otherwise you will get a licking.”  “Yes, big brother” I said and followed him back to the house.