Frances looked up from the bed she was making and saw that Winnie stood in the doorway. The girl had her arms folded behind her back and she was chewing on her lip furiously.
Frances flattened Julian's newly cleaned sheets and straightened up. "Winnie, is anything the matter?"
Winnie shook her head, her blonde curls bouncing around her face like springs. She offered no explanation for her appearance.
"Are you hungry?"
Again Winnie shook her head. "No."
Frances sighed. She had work to do. There was no time to stand around playing games. She turned back to the bed and pulled the sheet tightly over the mattress. She hoped her apparent disinterest would encourage Winnie.
For a moment, it was so silent that Frances thought Winnie had left. But then the mattress creaked and Winnie sat there, right in the middle of the bed. "I have something to ask you," she said, crossing her legs and folding her hands onto her lap.
Frances took a seat on the corner of the bed and looked into Winnie's eyes. The little girl's face was relaxed and serious. There was no chance that her face would break into a smile as it often did. Frances bit her lip. "Yes?"
Winnie took a deep breath and leaned forward. "Ansi," she said, "would you like to come on an adventure. With Jem and me?"
Frances drew back, laughter on the tip of her tongue. She bit it back. Winnie's eyes were wide and her lips were pressed tightly in solemn anxiety. Winnie was as serious as Helena was when speaking of her past and as intense as Julian was when speaking of his family. Frances couldn't laugh at that.
"Ansi?" Winnie's voice was soft and curious. As if poking a cow and waiting for a reaction.
Frances opened her mouth to refuse but caught herself before the words came out. Why would she refuse? Rebecca and Helena were both fast asleep and Julian was hidden away in his shop. The house was silent and no one would miss her presence. For a moment, her mind drifted to the basket of laundry waiting for her at the bottom of the staircase and the porch that needed to be swept. But Frances couldn't bring herself to say no to the large brown eyes.
She leaned forward and smiled. "An adventure, you say? I've never been on one before."
Winnie smiled apprehensively and whispered. "I won't tell anyone."
Frances chuckled and Winnie slid her soft fingers into her hand. Without a single glance at the unmade bed, they left the room and headed for the kitchen. Just as they were about to cross the threshold onto the porch Winnie stopped. She looked up at Frances with worried eyes. "You really haven't gone on an adventure before, have you?"
Frances dipped her head. "What do you mean?"
Winnie shook her head and pursed her lips. Her eyes looked Frances up and down. "You can't go adventuring like that," she said.
Frances looked down at her dress. Soft cotton with alternating light and dark blue stripes. It was well worn and there were a few traces of dirt that had been impossible to scrub out the last time Frances had washed it. "What's wrong with this dress?" she asked.
Winnie rolled her eyes as if talking to a young child and shook her head rebukingly. "Your dress is fine. It's everything else."
Frances raised her brows and had to bite back a smile. It wasn't every day that a grown woman was forced to learn something from a child.
Winnie sighed. "Your hair? Your shoes?"
Frances's hand instinctively went to her head. "My hair is tied. I have shoes on."
Winnie crossed her arms. "The feet must be bare so you can feel the earth between your toes and understand it. The hair must be untied so that the wind can blow through it, know us, and not feel threatened."
"Did your father tell you that?"
Winnie nodded.
Frances breathed in deeply and took a seat on a chair. She pulled her foot up and began unlacing it. The boots she wore were short and made of sturdy leather. A small heel was covered in mud and the laces were encrusted with dirt. The boot fell to the floor and Winnie pulled off her stocking. It was brown where it should have been a soft creme. She wiggled her free toes and began working on the next boot. In less than a minute, she stood on the kitchen floor her feet prickling from the cool wood and her toes feeling funny from having too much room to move.
Frances reached up for her hair that was pulled back in a tight coil at the base of her neck. She had barely taken it out of the up-do since she had arrived. Even at night she simply braided it and pinned it back up.
But Winnie was tapping her foot impatiently and Frances pulled the single pin running through the twist of her hair. Her hair fell down to the middle of her back in cinnamon colored curls. Frances reached into her pocket and pulled out a dark blue ribbon. She held it up questioningly. Winnie considered it for a moment before shrugging. Frances quickly gathered half her hair and pulled it back and tied it with a bow.
Winnie smiled and nodded her head as if to say, "There! That's done."
Taking Frances's hand once again, Winnie lead her outside onto the porch. The hot afternoon air was broken up by a cool breeze. Frances's hair whipped around her face and she took a deep breath of the fresh wind, imagining a creature of the wind winding itself through her hair and whispering secrets into her ears. She smiled at the thought and she looked around the yard until her eyes fell upon Jem whose little eyes brightened at the arrival of his sister.
His little legs carried him to the porch where he nearly threw himself at them. Frances took his hand and Winnie let go of hers.
"We're going into the Forest of Fantastical Findings," Winnie announced pointing to the clump of trees that followed the creek to the north of the homestead. Armed with a thin stick the length of her arm, Winnie led them into an adventure.
The area around the creek was mainly patted down dirt, twigs, and rocks, and Frances and the children had to pick their way through it, careful to keep their bare feet away from any sharp rocks or broken sticks.
Frances loved the dirt between her toes. It was cool and damp and made her skin tingle with pleasure. They crossed a small bridge made of boards with two steps on either ends and a railing on one side. Julian's craftsmanship was written all over it.
They ended up in a meadow to the North. The grass was long and soft and the children ran wild in the growth, their heads bobbing up and down in the sea of green. Frances ran to keep up with then, sweat beading on the back of her neck and her feet getting caked in mud. It was the most fun she had ever had.
She caught Jem around the waist and pulled him out from under his feet. He shrieked with laughter as she swung him out into the air above her head and back own into her arms. Just as Winnie joined them, Frances spotted something sticking out of the grass further up the meadow.
She grinned and grabbed Winnie's hand. "Come! I've made a discovery!"
They raced across the field, Frances's dress slapping at her bare legs and her hair blowing out behind her.
She slowed down as they neared the item. It was a pipe, sticking out from the ground.
Winnie's brow furrowed as they kneeled down beside it. "What is it?" she asked.
Frances put Jem down beside her and peered down the metal pipe. "It's a chimney," she said. "There's a room beneath this hill. Probably a school. When people crossed these lands to get to the West, schools were built into the hills so that the children of the travelers could have a few days of schooling during their travels."
Winnie's eyes widened. "Do you think...do you mean there is nothing holding us up?"
Frances laughed. "Don't worry, we won't fall through." She scrambled to her feet. "Do you want to see the room?"
They walked around the hill to the bottom where a wooden door and two empty windows were built into the wall. It was old and one of the boards was already broken in half.
Holding up a playful finger to her lips, Winnie pushed the door open. A cloud of dust rose up into the room and she sneezed. She pushed the door open as wide as it would go and placed a stick in the soft dirt to keep it open. With the two windows pouring in light, it was easy to see the room.
A schoolhouse, just as Frances had predicted. Three short benches were lined up, all facing the western wall were a plank of wood and two barrels served as the teacher's desk. A broken slate lay on the "desk", its pieces spread out across the plank. A small rusted bell stood on the corner of the desk and grammar primer and stubby pencil lay beside it. A small carpet lay in the corner where a picture was hung on the wall.
Winnie immediately went to the picture and Frances took Jem to the primer.
"Look at this," Winnie said, her eyes not straying form the picture. Frances joined her, leaving Jem to flip through the dusty primer and look at the pictures drawn on the yellowed pages. The picture on the wall was an embroidery piece, threads running up and down forming a small house. Written around it in a circle were the words: The Roof Over This Home Protects the Family of Learning from the Danger of Ignorance and Fear.
Before Frances could explain what it meant to Winnie's puzzled eyes, the ground began to shake. The boards beneath the rug suddenly gave way and Frances jumped out of the way. Winnie was not quick enough. With a scream, she fell through with the floor. Frances lunged for her and wrapped her fingers around the girl's wrist at the last moment. As her shoulder yanked Winnie's descent to a stop, her arm smacked against the side of the hole and pain burst through her skin. Darkness threatened to take over her vision and Frances struggled to stay awake, stay conscious. Winnie dangled over the hole, her face covered in dust and her wrist red beneath Frances's fingers.
"Are. You. Okay?" Frances gritted through her teeth. Winnie looked down at the rest of her body and nodded. A tear slipped over the dirt on her cheek.
Frances grunted under the pressure and winced as she struggled to keep herself anchored to the main floor. Her free arm's fingers found a crack in the floor and dug themselves in, ready to be used for anchorage.
"I'm going to pull you up," she announced and looked down at her arm.
She nearly fainted at the sight. A board of wood had broken into a blade and stabbed her through her right arm. Three inches could be seen on either side. Frances swallowed a bout of bile and, clenching her jaw, tried to pull her arm out. Pain shot up her arm into her sore shoulder, promising that any more actions to pull her arm free would send Winnie into the darkness.
Breathing heavily she turned her eyes away from her injury but the ever present pain refused to be pushed away. It was as if someone had sawed a broken knife into her arm. She could only pray that the bone was stick intact.
Instead, she focused on Winnie. The tear tracks on her face, the shavings of wood sticking in her air, the sweat pooling on her upper lip and soaking the hair bordering her face.
"Ready?" Frances asked. "I'll do it quickly."
Winnie nodded. With a wail of pain, Frances yanked up. Something snapped and for a second her fingers loosened on Winnie. She quickly re-latched them just in time but the pain was still there. She pulled Winnie over the edge and let her fall into her lap. She held the little girl close to her chest and pressed her head to her shoulder. They sat there for a moment, the room silent, the world still and agonizingly peaceful, holding each other as if their lives depended on it. They did only moments ago.
A soft hand touched her shoulder. She turned and her eyes found Jem's. The little boy's face was soaked in tears, his entire body shaking and his hair somehow soaking wet.
She hadn't even heard him cry.
She pulled him close and he squirmed his way in between Frances and Winnie, wrapping his arms around his big sister. She held him tightly as a child would a precious stuffed toy.
"W-we should p-probably return home," Frances said shakily, "and clean you up."
Winnie pulled away and stood up. She gasped and pointed down at Frances's arm.
Frances followed her finger and nearly retched up her breakfast. The stick had come with her. Right through her sleeve and out the other side.
"Don't look," she ordered, nudging the two children away. Winnie grabbed Jem's shoulders and swivelled him around with her towards the dirt wall. Frances made sure they couldn't see before grabbing one end tugging it. The pain was too much and her eyes rolled white. Darkness swam before her eyes. She breathed deeply and blinked quickly. The darkness slowly evaporated and she looked back to her arm. A drop of blood ran down her wrist and to the tip of her finger. More followed.
She gritted her teeth and held in her breathe. She gingerly took hold of the stick again and pulled on it gently. She kept her eyes open against the invading darkness and the stick barely moved. She was about to pull again when she took a good long look at either end. They were ragged and small slices stood up everywhere. Splinters. She couldn't pull again. If she did, splinters would lodge their way inside and...it would all be a mess. She needed someone who was familiar with wood.
Julian. He'd know what to do.
"Don't look," she reminded the children before untying her apron from around her neck and behind her back. It was slow and clumsy with only her left hand available. After a minute she had the apron on her lap. She quickly retied both ends around her neck into a makeshift sling. Gingerly directing her arm into the sling, both supporting it and hiding the sight from the children, she slowly got to her feet.
"Okay," she said. "You can turn around now."
They did and Frances almost wished they hadn't. Their faces were pale and Winnie's face was scraped. Her arm was bruised and she was covered in dust from head to toe. Jem was a wreck. He trembled and his large eyes were still filling with tears.
Frances squatted down beside them slowly, her balance off and her knees week. She couldn't imagine how weak and powerless she looked.
With her free hand, she brushed a tuft of Jem's hair from his face. "It's okay," she comforted. "Winnie is fine. I am fine. We are going to go home now. Don't worry." he nodded but the tears and the expression of terror remained. Frances sighed and brushed a tear drop away before taking his hand and leading the way back outside.
It was strange to once again be surrounded by emerald hills and sapphirine skies, but Frances had little time to dwell on it. Her arm throbbed and with each step she took, bile bubbled in her stomach. She put on a brave face and smiled reassuringly each time Winnie or Jem would look up at her.
The trek back to the homestead was much shorter than it had been before. None of them frolicked or ran to find new discoveries. None of them even thought of anything besides the accident or the pain.
Frances was so caught up in her thoughts and the effort of putting one foot after another that she startled when seeing the bridge. Winnie let go of her hand and scampered across, disappearing into the bushes.
The apron was soaked through and Frances felt her knees weakening with every step. Drums played in her ear to the time of her footfalls and pain blossomed behind her eyes. Her grip on Jem tightened and he tried to wiggle his hand free. The sweat pooling in Frances's palms made it easy and Jem scurried off across the rest of the bridge and through the path Winnie had forged.
Crashing footfalls and breaking sticks shook her from her rest. She opened her eyes against the afternoon sun breaking through the trees. Julian burst through the wall of trees.
She held up her arm and chuckled. "I don't think this is meant to be in here."
With those words and a shaky laugh, her knees buckled beneath her. She grabbed onto the railing with one arm and slowly lowered herself onto the bridge and leaned against a rail pole. Julian racing footsteps echoed in her ears.
The darkness in the corners of her vision subsided and she took a deep breath. The view of the forest and creek slowly cleared up and the pain dulled. Holding her arm against her chest, unmoving, she could barely feel anything at all. If she closed her eyes and took shallow breaths, she could almost swear that the events of the past hour had never happened. But the constant pressure in her arm and the gummy blood covering her hands kept her from complete peace.
Julian slid to his knees at her side and cupped her face in his hands. He turned her face towards him and looked deep in her eyes. The warmth of his fingers and the sun's rays drew on her tired state and she struggled to keep her eyes open.
"Don't close your eyes," Julian ordered, his voice sharp. Frances nodded, but her eyes shut nonetheless.
Julian cursed under his breath and gentle swatted her cheek. Frances tried to respond, but her eyelids were too heavy.
"Fine..." Julian said, "But speak to me, tell me what happened."
Frances swallowed back the stiffness in her throat and began the retelling. At the beginning, her voice was weak and her words stilted. Winnie helped fill in certain parts. But as time went on, her voice became clearer and her thoughts less cluttered. As she spoke, she felt her apron-sling pull away and fingers press against her tender arm. A breath hissed between teeth and her loose hair was brushed out of her face. Halfway through her story, arms wrapped under her back and at the bend in her knees and she was lifted in the air.
She stiffened. "Don't," she said, but her voice was feeble. "I can walk."
No one answered and she realized that she could do nothing. Her back rigid and her limbs taunt, she could feel Julian's touch burning through her dress as hot as the stick singeing through her flesh.