Weayaya: The Sunset Woman

Chapter 12

Yvonne
Mid-1800s...maybe?

"You've got to eat Evie," Nettie pushed a bowl into my hands of the concoction she had cooked in the big cast iron pot.

I stared at it.

She was right, I had to eat, but I didn't feel like it.

I didn't feel like I deserved to eat...much less like I should eat their food.

"Listen, posh girl," I heard Gideon whisper as he slide beside me. "If you don't eat this now, there's no telling when we are gonna eat again. This wagon train is gonna pull out soon and no matter how useless you are, you'll get put to work." He pushed me a little. "Now eat, you need the strength." He stood up abruptly as his mother began to walk over.

I began to take haphazard spoonfuls of the meal, ignoring the taste or what was in it. I heeded Gideon's words...he was right...I wasn't posh or anything but...from his point of view...I may have seemed like the richest person in the world. I hadn't been much help, and I needed to be some sort of help, because sooner or later, this train was moving on, with me in it.

As I walked toward Nettie, I saw her carefully washing off some dishes in a little water.

"Can I help?" I piped up.

"Oh? Evie!" She smiled up at me. "Sure! You can dry these for me!" She happily passed me a wet plate. I looked around for a towel, and she noticed. "Use the hem of your dress, friend." She smiled at me again.

I did as I was told...but it was hard to concentrate with the harsh words being exchanged some feet away.

"How can we keep such a useless wench!" Nettie's mother spat.

"Well what do you want me to do Muriel? Leave her here when we leave?" Nettie's father seemed irritated.

"Yes, Jim, yes I do! We couldn't find no trace of her folks and I doubt she's got any. You said yourself we don't have room for another mouth and you saw how she works-it's worthless trashy work-."She continued to spit anger.

"Muriel." His voice lowered in irritation.

Her words ceased.

"We can't leave her here alone to starve and die. I know what I said God damnit, but that was before we talked to the people here and found out what's been happening. It's unchristian of us to leave her. Not to mention, you are very well aware of what most likely happened. We both are. You saw how she was dressed in only her under clothes walking in her booted feet in the middle of the plains." He seemed to be leading to something.

Muriel took a minute to answer, "yes, I am aware of what most likely happened."

"And why you keep chiding a girl who has most likely lost her entire family is beyond me!" He began to scold her. "I thought you were a better woman that to scold such a child for things not in her power. I mean, by God Muriel! What if you and I and Gideon were killed by Indians tomorrow? Hm? Wouldn't you pray for some god fearing people to come along and find Nettie and our young'uns and raise em up right and see Nettie and Jeanie wed?!? Hm?!" He laid into the poor woman.

"Yes," Muriel's voice lacked all strength, "Fine." she begrudgingly accepted. "Keep the worthless wench."

"Evie," Nettie called, drawing my attention back to her, "don't worry about it." She smiled again as she passed me the last dish and I dried it off with the hem of my dress.

"Gideon!" Jim called, "come on with me to the meeting!"

"Yes Pa!" He shot up and ran after his father.

Muriel strode over and peered down at Nettie and I as we finished our work.

"Pack up our things, I suspect we will be leaving soon." She began, "and get the young'uns back in the wagon...both of you." She jerked her head at us and walked off after her husband and Gideon.

Nettie and I looked at each other, but we stood up and went about packing the trunks back up and putting as much back into the wagon as we could.

It seemed to take what felt like an age, but we finished just as we saw the crowd in the center of the circle of wagons begin to break apart.

"Jeanie! Paul!" Nettie called the two children. The came up to her from seemingly out of no where. She reached down and picked up Paul, lifting him into the wagon. "Jeanie, you ready?" She smiled a bit and the girl shook her head as Nettie lifted her up with all her strength and put her in the back.

Just then, Jim, Muriel, and Gideon walked up.

"Good job girls," Jim called. "Gideon, let's hitch up these animals and get ready to move out."

"Yes Pa!" Gideon called out again, following his fathers lead.

"Ma!" Nettie called, "are we going to leave now?"

"Soon Anna, as soon as your father bitches those beasts." Muriel seemed detached as she stared at her husband and son getting the animals ready to go.

She suddenly walked off on her own, seemingly in disgust.

"Is she alright?" I lowered my voice and whispered to Nettie.

"Yeah, she'll be alright." Her smile fell.

"What's wrong Nettie?" I put my hand on her shoulder.

"Well...promise you won't judge or nothin'?" She looked at me with deep eyes.

"Of course not," I shook my head.

"Well, ya see, Ma's family used to have lots of money. They owned this big plantation and had all these slaves. She only had one brother, and he died in the war. The plantation woulda gone to Ma, I'd the Yankee's hadn't burned it...but it was burned and the slaves set free. Ma hates all Yankee's now...and she feels anger at my Pa too."

"Why?" I raised an eyebrow, now figuring out I was in an era sometime after the Civil War.

"Pa didn't fight in the war. He couldn't. They says he got too old and Ma was upset he couldn't fight for what she called 'The Glory of the South,' anyhow she got real mad. But it's her own fault! Pa is so much older than her." Nettie continued.

"Wait, how old is he?" I asked.

"Not as old as he told them army men!" She scoffed. "Apparently Pa told them he was near 50, but that was a stone cold lie. Ma said he wasn't but a year or two older than her. And she's 36."

"36...?" I began, "so she was born in...?"

"Yep! 1832. Good ole Ma. I know she seems younger than that. But she's near 40!" Nettie laughed a little.

"Anna! Yvonne! Come on!" Muriel called out suddenly.

Nettie took my hand and began to pull me as the wheels turned in my mind.

1832...plus 36...68...1868...I was trapped in 1868...The Civil War ended in 1865, President Lincoln was killed the same year...which meant the President was Grant? No. The other one, a bad one...Johnson! One of the Johnson's but which...my memory searched...1868...had to be Andrew Johnson.

Lyndon wouldn't be President for near 100 years.

Nettie pulled me to her family's wagon.

Just then a sound reverberated through the plains, and one by one, the wagons started to move, until it came time for ours to move.

Her father sat, driving the thing, her youngest siblings sat in back, while the rest of us walked on forward...trying our best to keep in toe with the large wagon.

As the sun beamed down on us...my only thought...was of how to get home.