(Un)bidden (7 page)

“Want to go see?” she asked.

“I’ll join you in a moment.”

She nodded and left me.  I pulled the bucket from under the bed and wrinkled my nose.  I needed to figure out a better way to pretend this place had plumbing.  It had been embarrassing emptying the bucket yesterday.  Thankfully, Mary had shown me a back door.

Joining Mary in the main room, I asked her to help me pump some water.  There, I washed my hands with the bar soap I’d set out from my bag and brushed my teeth.

“Winifred wants to know how your neck feels,” Mary said as I dampened the cloth with alcohol to dab on the healing marks.

“Still hot and tight.”

Mary nodded at my words and, after a worried glance at the door, frowned.

“What is it?”

“She said that a few of the males have contacted her asking when she means to return.”

I didn’t see why that would upset her.  After all, Winifred had told them they couldn’t bite me without her permission.  Of course they wanted to know when she would come back.  Maybe the frown was because my neck still hurt.  But why the look at the door?  Was Winifred thinking of sending someone my way?

“I’m definitely not up for another bite if that’s what she’s suggesting.”

Mary shook her head.  “She knows you’re not ready.”

A relieved sigh escaped me.  Mary gave me a crooked grin.

“Come on.  Let’s go see what they brought back,” she said, tugging me toward the door.

I reluctantly let her lead me.

As soon as the door opened, we gained everyone’s attention just like the day before.  Many of the men stood possessively by some item or a pile of items.  They all watched me closely as I followed Mary across the yard.  She went to the bathtub first, and stared down at it with a scowl.

“You wash in this?” she asked me with heavy skepticism.

I tore my wary gaze from the tense men and looked at the claw foot tub.  Its porcelain coating had chipped in many places showing the cast iron beneath.  It had a drain hole in the bottom, but no holes for faucets.  Mud coated the entire thing.

“Not as it is,” I said to Mary.  I looked up at the man.  My disinterest in the man warred with my interest in how he’d managed to carry it here from the junk yard.  “This is perfect.  Thank you.  Was it heavy to carry?”

“Not at all,” he said.

I didn’t fully believe him.  Dirty sweat streaks lined his face.  If they weren’t from carrying the tub, then what?  I gave him a small smile of thanks and turned to Mary.

“Where do you think we should put it?”

“You fill it with water, right?” she said.  I nodded.  “Then close to the water, I guess.  There’s that little room just inside the meeting room.”

I had no idea which room she meant but turned back to the man.

“Would you be willing to bring it in for us?”  I was very careful to include Mary in the request for further help. I didn’t want to raise this man’s hopes as I had Anton’s.  The man agreed with a smile, and Mary tugged me to the next pile.

As we meandered through the yard, we collected more dishes, some silverware, cooking items, furniture, and a hammer with a roughly hewn “new” handle.  Yet, there were items I refused.  A moth-eaten cushioned chair that had a huge, and very questionable, gnawed hole in the seat; and a mattress, likewise gnawed.  The men with those items looked like I’d slapped them when I shook my head to decline what they’d brought.  I quickly moved away from them to inspect the next man’s items.

Near the woods, a wolf stepped out in front of me.  My heart froze for a moment.  Mary set her hand on my shoulder, stopping me from running as it stepped closer.  It walked with a limp and one of its eyes didn’t open all the way.

“It’s Anton,” Mary said softly.  All of the small noises in the yard stopped, and the hostility of those around us grew palpable.

The wolf dipped his head to the ground and dropped something from his mouth.  Half a thick candle lay in the dirt and dry grass.

“Thank you, Anton,” I said as I cautiously retrieved it.  “Why aren’t you...”  Was it rude to ask why he wasn’t a man?

Mary seemed to understand my half-spoken question, though.

“I’ll explain later.”  She pulled me away.  Her tight hold on my hand worried me as much as the angry stares of the men around us.

Mary stopped when we reached the door.  As if it were a sign, those who’d brought useful items began to carry everything inside.  I thanked them once more as they left.  When we had the room to ourselves again, we went in and closed the door.

I looked at her but she shook her head.

“Let’s go upstairs.”

In our room, she finally confided in me.

“The noise we heard this morning?  They confronted Anton because you seemed to favor him.”

I stared at the candle still in my hand then quickly set it on the floor.  Sane thoughts scattered as I numbly walked to the window.  Most of the men either were no longer in the yard or had changed to their other form.  But, Anton still stood near the edge of the woods, looking at the main building.

How many of them had he fought?  My hand moved to my throat.  How many men had I thanked today?  Had I looked at any of them too long?

“Winifred wants you to know it’s in our nature and not due to anything you’ve done.  Males will compete for females.  The strong ones usually prevail.  It means stronger young.”

Young?  I didn’t want young.  I didn’t want males.  I didn’t want any of this.  Except maybe a place to stay.  I set my hand against the sill.  My earlier thought rose again.  Perhaps I could just stay inside.  If I didn’t mingle with them, they couldn’t hurt me and they wouldn’t hurt each other.

Anton happened to glance up and catch me at the window.  His head bobbed in acknowledgement then he turned and disappeared into the trees.  Despite his beating, he’d found a candle and brought it to me, risking more retribution.  And why?  He knew I didn’t want anyone to bite me.  It didn’t seem to matter to him.  He still wanted to win my favor.  He still hoped I’d agree to what he wanted.  My throat grew tight, and I knew something had finally killed most of my fear: Pity.  I pitied not just Anton, but all the men for their desperate hope.

“Charlene?”  Mary said, her voice heavy with concern.

“It’s fine.  I’m fine,” I said turning to face her again.  “Let’s check out that tub.”

*    *    *    *

It turned out there was a small, windowless space off the main room, very close to the hand pump and trough.  The tub sat in the center of the area, but something didn’t look right.  The wood creaked under our feet as we walked in, and I saw what looked off.  The boards bowed under the weight of the empty tub, flexing further with each step we took.  I couldn’t imagine boards would hold the weight of the water too.

“It doesn’t look very safe,” Mary said.

“Yeah.”  And I didn’t see how I’d be able to use it.  Where would the water drain?  Emptying it the same way I would fill it didn’t sound like much fun.

“Maybe we could use some of the boards they pulled off the shed,” Mary said.  “If we laid them cross ways on top of the other boards, I mean.”

“Maybe.”  I glanced at the door.  I worried that going out to get the boards would draw attention and prompt offers of help.  Unable to stand the thought of someone else being beaten for helping me, I stayed where I was.

“Want me to get them?” she asked.

I nodded.

While she did that, I moved the table between the sink and the fireplace.  I’d just started to place the chairs around it when Mary walked past followed by two men.  They carried boards over their shoulders, and both men nodded at me.  I gave a small smile and a nod in return then ignored them.  While they were in the tub room, someone tapped on the outer door she’d left open.  Reluctantly, I went to answer it.  This man looked older than the others.  Grey hair covered his chest and vines held up his loose pants.

“Hi,” I said simply.

“Hello.”  His deep, rumbling voice sounded amused.  “Mary said you needed food again.”

I nodded hesitantly.  We hadn’t eaten yet, but I hadn’t planned to ask anyone for anything.  There was still another can of beans I could open and share with Mary.  I preferred beans over asking someone to hunt for us and risking showing favoritism.

The man at the door pulled out a skewered rabbit from behind his back.  “I hope you’re not as picky about eating rabbit,” he said with a slight grin.

I tilted my head and really looked at the man.  I saw some familiar features and smiled wider.

“You’re Mary’s dad, then?”

“I am.  You can call me Henry.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Henry,” I said, moving aside for him.

“It’s nice to meet you, too,” he said.  “Want me to put this on the fire for you?”

“That would be great.  Thank you.”

He moved into the room and squatted by the fire while I closed the door.

“Mary’s glad you’re here.”

“I’m glad she’s here, too.”

He stood and turned toward me.  “They mean well,” he said with a deep sigh.  “I remember how it was when I saw Mary’s mother that first time.”  He shook his head, and a fond smile tugged at his mouth.  “That beautiful, angry woman...she fought me, you know.  When I tried to Claim her.  She had big plans.  She’d watched some people building a house and decided she wanted to live like them.”  He looked around the room.  “This was our compromise.  She loved this place, but we never lived here.”

Mary walked out of the tub room and smiled at her dad.  The two men followed her.  Henry nodded at both and watched as they left.  Neither closed the door.

“You two stay inside for the rest of the day.  They’re getting restless waiting for Winifred.”

Mary nodded, and I glanced at the door.  Many of them unabashedly looked in as they walked past.

When Henry left, he closed the door behind him.

“Let’s bring this up to our room,” Mary said, patting the dresser with the missing drawers.

*    *    *    *

Friday it rained and tempers flared.  Mary and I ate a quiet breakfast of rabbit and beans—I was growing to hate beans—while listening to faint snarls and muted growls.  We’d moved all the items from the day before to their proper places, soaked the dishes in boiling hot water, and cleaned out the tub.  The small additions made the place feel less run down and vacant.

We’d worked so much the day before that we had nothing with which to occupy ourselves.  So Mary started the long process of heating water for a bath.  We watched the floor carefully as we poured in each pot, but the extra boards held steady as the depth of the water increased.  When there was enough water, I took a quick bath.  Sitting there undressed with no lock on the door made me nervous.  However, stepping away clean made it worthwhile.  Emptying the tub by hand wasn’t very fun; but with Mary’s help, it went fast.  We then worked to fill it for her.  When she finished her bath, we sat together and dried our hair by the fire.

Twice someone knocked on the door, but we didn’t answer it.  After the second time, I noticed the men were starting to watch us through the window.  I nudged Mary.  We glanced at each other, stood, and went upstairs to our room.  The fighting outside grew worse afterwards.  It was a long day and a longer evening.

I restlessly lay on my bed, wondering if they would decide to ignore Winifred’s command and come inside to bite me again.  Mary’s father had no chance of holding them all back if they decided to come for me.  And I worried he’d just get hurt like Anton.

The scabs were beginning to itch on the very outside, and I knew I was starting to heal.  It didn’t mean I was ready for another bite, though.

Mary seemed to sense my anxious mood.

“Want me to sleep on the bed with you?” she asked.

I nodded and closed my eyes as she lay behind me.  I pretended the world and I were normal and that nothing could hurt me.  I knew better, though.

“Good morning,” Winifred said as she opened the bedroom door.

Late morning sunlight glared through the window, blinding me, and I squinted at her.  She gave me a wry smile.

“They kept you up late?”

I nodded.  The motion nudged Mary, who lost her precarious perch on the edge of the bed.  She fell to the floor with a thump and a grunt.

“Sorry, Mary,” I mumbled as I sat up.

“It’s all right,” she said.  She didn’t bother moving, just closed her eyes again.

I grinned down at her.  Her brown hair fanned around her head in a tangled web and partially hid her face.  She hadn’t slept much either as we’d lain in the dark, listening.

“How is your neck?” Winifred asked, pulling my attention from Mary.  “May I look?”

She swept my hair aside after I nodded.  The skin on my arms prickled at her light, cool touch.  She studied the area for a moment then sighed.

“It doesn’t look much different,” she murmured.  “Which, I guess, is to be expected for your kind.”  She moved my hair back in place.

“What do you mean?” I asked, looking up at her.