Thrown to the Wolves (The Faith in Peril Trilogy) (7 page)

All the fear from a short while ago returned with a vengeance, my heart thudding wildly in my chest. “That stupid dog! She thinks we’re still on a stroll! She’s not taking us home at all. In fact, I reckon to say, she’s led us in the entirely wrong direction. We have to go back!” I turned around, seeing nothing but the outline of shadows, the dark monoliths of trees. “We have to go back the way we came.”

“Molly, no,” breathed Anna. “Oh, this is terrible. Why did we even follow her?”

“I don’t know. I’m going back.”

“We’re truly lost now,” said Anna.

“I told you we should’ve stayed where we were and made camp,” said Jacob. “I could’ve had a toasty fire blazing by now. I can rub two sticks together. I know what I’m doing.”

I wasn’t going to listen to him, having begun the trek back up the hill. “Come along. We’re going back.” The dog bounded forward, passing me. “You were supposed to help us find the way home! Go home, Molly! Go home!” We forged onward, but the uphill walk tired me. It seemed that an hour or so drifted by, but I could not be certain. The elevation had leveled again. “We have to be close now. We have to.”

“I’m thirsty,” said Jacob.

“Do you hear any water?” asked Anna. “Can we stop for a moment? I’d like to listen for a creek.”

Something buzzed near my ear, and I slapped my
kapp
. “Ugh.” I had stopped, while tiredness settled upon me, my spirit flattening. “Fine. You try to find water. Good luck. We have to boil everything. We can’t drink it from the source or we’ll get sick.”

“Where did Molly go?” asked Jacob. “She’s not here anymore.”

“Let’s listen for her,” said Anna. “Shush, and maybe you’ll hear something.”

We stood together beneath the trees, not speaking for a long while. I heard nothing other than crickets and the annoying buzz of a mosquito. “She’s gone again.”

“We need to make a decision,” said Anna. “We can’t keep walking all night. We need to find a flat, dry place and make a shelter.”

“I can do the fire,” said Jacob. “You choose the spot, and I’ll get to work.”

I had hoped we would be able to find our house tonight. I had placed all my trust in a dog, and she had let me down. “I think that’s all we can do now, until morning. Mam and Dat will be beside themselves. I’m sure they’re wondering where we are.”

“They’ll come looking for us in the morning,” said Anna. “They’ll fire a few shots, and we can follow the sound.”

That seemed reasonable. “Yes.”

“We can survive one night in the forest. Think of it as an adventure. Jacob can make a fire, and we’ll try to find some leaves to sleep on.”

“You forget one thing,” I said, hating the sound of defeat in my voice. “We can’t see a single thing. It’s pitch black.”

“We’ll learn to feel our way around.”

“And then we’ll itch all night from some poisonous plant.”

“That will happen anyhow.”

Twigs snapped, as Anna began to walk. “Come now. Let’s find a safe place to sit.”

The search for a shelter far exceeded a few minutes, because place after place was deemed less than ideal. I had grown even more tired; my feet felt like lead blocks, heavy and cumbersome. I tripped over everything in my path. Molly bounded towards us again a while later, but I was far too tired to acknowledge her. We eventually settled on a spot that seemed dryer than the others, the ground clear, save for leaves.

“This will have to do,” said Anna. “It’s all we can hope for at the moment.”

I walked back and forth, my feet feeling nothing but dirt. “Yes. It’s flat. I can’t see a thing, but it feels somewhat level.”

“I’m off to get firewood,” declared Jacob.

“Where are you going?” Losing him terrified me. “You can’t wander far. You must be within speaking distance.”

“If you keep talking, I’ll know where you are. I’ll circle the camp and find wood. It’s going to be fine, Rebekah. I’ll take care of everything. I’m the only man here, after all.” And this had been spoken from a five-year-old.

“All right, Jacob.” I shook my head, wanting to laugh and cry at the same time. “You do that.” I could barely see my sister in the darkness. “What time do you think it is?”

“Later than we assume.”

She had confirmed one of my fears. “Why do you say that?”

“We’ve been walking for hours. I don’t know if you’re aware or not, but it’s been that long.”

“We’ve more than likely gone in one big circle.”

“Yes.”

An idea struck. “Oh! We’re so stupid. We should’ve ripped our dresses and tied them to the branches. If someone comes looking for us, they could’ve followed the path.”

“We can do that tomorrow.”

“Why didn’t I think of that before? Dat and David won’t know where we are. We left nothing behind.”

“They’ll shoot their rifles. I fully expect to hear gunfire in the morning. They’ll come and find us. Please don't fret, Rebekah. I can hear the fear in your voice. We must do whatever we can to stay calm.”

“Easy for you to say! You love the woods. You adore scampering around and getting lost. I hate it! I’ve never liked this sort of thing. Being out here is far more dangerous than we imagine. I have a dreadful feeling about this. What if Dat can’t find us? What if we—”

“Calm yourself!” Hands gripped my shoulders. “Take a deep breath, Rebekah. Breathe … deep … in and out. That’s better. Now we’ll say a prayer, because Molly is no longer our guide. Our Heavenly Father has always been the guide, and He will lead us from the forest. Do you hear me?”

“Yes, Anna.”

“Then we shall pray now. I’ll say it. Our Lord, our savior. Please watch over us and protect us, as you do every day. Please help us find shelter and water and safe passage through the woods. Take our fear away and—”

“I’ve found water!” called Jacob. “Come look!”

“Very well then,” said Anna. “This concludes the prayer for now. Amen.”

“Amen.”

She let go of me. “We’ll pray again before bed. That should keep us for a while, but we’ll need more to fortify us through the night.”

“I don't want to go to Jacob. May I stay here?” I sounded like a frightened child, but I couldn’t help it.

“Just sit and rest. I’ll be back.”

I grasped her sleeve. “But what if you both get lost? What if you don’t return?”

“Nonsense. He’s no more than thirty feet away. We’ll be back shortly.”

“I’ll look for leaves. It’s not right to rest while you’re working. I can do something. I’m not infirm.”

“That’s the spirit,” she giggled, but I could no longer see her, as she had stepped away from me.

For the first time that night, I smiled. Anna reminded me so much of Dat. She had always been a calm, steady girl. Her meek demeanor had earned her a great deal of respect amongst her peers and teachers, who found her to be an apt and dedicated pupil. She never questioned things or complained, accepting life without protest. I, on the other hand, questioned everything, wanting answers.

Why can’t we wear patterned clothing?

The Ordnung forbids it.

Why can’t I play an instrument, like the flute or harp?

Self-expression leads to pride. Our voices are all we need for music.

Why can’t our clothing have collars, pockets, or ornamentation?

Because this encourages pride and vanity. The path to heaven is through selflessness and obedience …

I had grown up with a mild streak of defiance, which Mam had tried her best to temper, explaining that by design, the
Ordnung
brought us closer to God. Submission and accepting God’s will was true happiness, she said. I did not argue this point with her, but I felt justified in my questions, wanting to know why things were the way they were. The answers had not been as satisfying as I wished, but I hadn’t fought my mother, knowing that she too had asked the same questions in her younger years.

My mind began to wander, drifting from thought to thought, while Jacob and Anna tramped through the woods, snapping branches beneath their feet. Molly had returned, the dog running back and forth, although I could not see her. The sound of her paws beating against the earth gave away her location. I gathered as many leaves as I could, knowing that whatever bed I made would be horribly uncomfortable.

“I’ve got firewood,” said Jacob.

“That’s good.” He had returned with Anna.

“These can go around the fire.” Something thumped against the ground. “We need more.”

“What about the water?” I asked. “Did you find any?”

“There’s a small creek, but I didn’t want to go down. It’s even darker there. We can visit it in the morning.”

I licked my dry lips, feeling parched. “That’s a shame. I’m thirsty.”

“I’m thirsty too. Maybe once the fire’s made we can explore further. That way we’ll have light to guide us.”

“That’s a marvelous idea.” I had begun to feel better about the ordeal, because we had taken charge of things, and we would soon have a place to sleep and a source of warmth and light. “What can I do?”

“Find more rocks. Come with me.” She tramped off into the brush, her feet snapping twigs. “They’re hard to find, but small ones are everywhere. You can feel them with your feet.”

I could see almost nothing; therefore, whatever Jacob did remained a mystery. The temperature had dropped, and I shivered. “I wish I had a shawl.”

“Me too. None of us expected to be outside overnight.”

Anna and I endeavored to find stones, although this proved to be an arduous task. I held the few I had, cradling the rocks within my apron. They clinked together as I walked. We placed these in a circle, while Jacob proceeded to rub two sticks together with a small pile of kindling beneath to catch a spark. He labored in this manner for a long time, the wood rubbing over and over. I sat with Anna, while he worked, barely being able to see him.

“Do you need us to take turns?” I asked.

“No, I’ve got it, I think.”

“Don't hurt yourself,” said Anna.

“I won’t. I’ve seen Dat do this. I know it’s gonna work.”

My little brother had been a brave soldier today, not fearful in the least that we had been caught in the elements. I felt a measure of gratitude then, thanking God for having such a fine brother, who I felt a kinship with. Anna’s knee brushed mine. I reached out for her hand, closing my fingers around hers.

“It’s going to be fine,” she murmured, squeezing me. “We’re together in this, and the Lord is watching over us. He wouldn’t lead us astray.”

The snapping of a twig brought my attention to the forest, although I could only see shadows. “That must be Molly.”

“Come here, girl,” said Anna. “Molly!”

Bounding from the undergrowth, she emerged, scampering to us, rubbing against my back. “I should be very angry with you. You’ve been a naughty girl today. You’re a terrible guide dog.”

“She thinks this is all play,” said Anna. “She’s in heaven.”

The acrid smell of smoke filled the air. “Oh, Jacob!” I leaned forward, hoping to catch a glimpse of fire. “You’re getting it. I can smell it!”

“It shouldn’t be much longer.” The sound of wood scraping upon wood continued, until small sparks flared. “It’s coming!”

“What do we do?” asked Anna.

“Nothing. I’m nearly there. It’s any second now.”

“You’re really good at this, Jacob. Oh, thank God.” Having fire would be a blessing. Then we could wander off to find water, using the light to guide us.

The aroma of burning wood filled my lungs. A series of sparks threaded through a small bushel of kindling, igniting it. I could see Jacob now, because the bundle had burst into flames. He deposited the fire into the center of the rocks, which had been filled with branches.

“That should do it.” He added another branch or two. “Some of the wood is a little wet. Hope it’s still gonna work.”

I wanted to hug him. “Oh, thank you, Jacob. We have fire.” And what a wondrous sight it was!

Anna got to her feet. “Let’s look for the creek and then gather more wood.” She grasped the metal bucket. “We’ll need this.”

“I’m all for that.” I scrambled to my feet, eager to be helpful.

“I’m waiting here,” said Jacob. “I want to make this even bigger.”

“You keep it going,” I said, patting him on the back. “You’ve done a fine job. Dat would be so proud of you.”

“Ah, it was easy.” He grinned, flashing a missing tooth. “I told you I could do it.”

Being able to see him clearly lifted my spirits. “I feel so much better with fire. It’s not as scary now.”

The kindling had ignited into an all-out blaze, illuminating the surrounding trees, which did not look as forbidding or sinister as before. We had managed to find a spot between several oaks, with a flattened patch of space and enough room for the three of us to sleep. The rocks surrounded the blaze, although some had been placed crookedly. Before Anna and I left, Jacob started to arrange them better.

I wandered into the woods with my sister, following closely, not wanting to lose sight of her. The glow of the fire reassured me, despite the fact that the surroundings remained dark. We would easily be able to find our way back. Molly had joined us, her raspy breathing filling the air, while branches snapped beneath her paws.

“I think the water’s here somewhere,” said Anna.

“I hope so. I’m parched.”

“It should be fresh enough, but it’ll still require boiling. I certainly don’t want to take any chances.”

A bush shook nearby, making me jump. “Oh! What was that?”

“Just an animal.”

“I don’t like this at all.”

“Me either, but what can we do?”

Continuing our quest, the sound of something trickling captured my attention. “I hear it!”

“I do too, but goodness, it’s dark.”

The flames of the campfire remained visible at a distance, flickering between the branches. “Let’s hurry so we can return.” Molly had gone ahead, and we joined her moments later by the water's edge. She had lowered her head to drink. “How deep is it?”

“It’s very shallow. Come stand here. I’m on some rocks.”

My feet encountered a slick surface, and I worried I might slip. Anna had knelt, cupping her hands to wash her face. The break in the foliage over our heads had left an opening for the moon, which provided a hazy amount of light. The water felt cold and refreshing, as I dunked the bucket in to scoop it out. Molly’s growling brought me up short.