Near the Bone(18)
If she did that now then maybe the creature wouldn’t notice her, wouldn’t sense the spark of something living.
The animal growled, snorted out several short breaths, pawed at the ground.
Mattie didn’t know if it was wise or not but she had to look. She had to know if it had spotted her and was preparing to charge. She risked a glance in its direction. She still couldn’t make any sense of it other than size, but it seemed to be settling down on the bank.
Is it going to sleep there? Mattie thought in alarm. No, it can’t. I have to get home.
(no, you have to get away)
It didn’t matter what she wanted or didn’t want. If the animal went to sleep, she’d be trapped until it woke and left the area.
Her stomach made a long keening sound, as loud as a gunshot in the still night.
The creature paused. Mattie heard it sniff the air as she hunched over, her face in her knees, trying to make her body as small as possible, trying to make herself invisible.
After a moment she heard it grunt and resume its pawing and shifting.
Oh, please go. Please, God, if you’re listening, please make it go.
But God never listened to Mattie’s prayers. No matter how often she begged God to make William stop, He never listened. He never helped. He never struck William down the way He ought to do.
Mattie stayed hunched over her legs, trembling, as the animal’s breath settled into the deep, even rhythm of sleep. There was nothing for it now. She would have to go back to the cabin. The plan to follow the stream was impossible with the creature in the way.
Even if it woke up in an hour or two the plan wouldn’t work. If Mattie wanted to leave William, she needed time, all the time she could manage. She needed a head start, especially now that she was barely able to walk.
It’s a sign, a sign that you’re not supposed to leave William.
What else could it be? Why else would every obstacle appear in her way just as she considered (for the first time in years, so many years she couldn’t count them) getting away? God hated her. He must. She must be as bad, as sinful as William always said, or else this wouldn’t happen. Mattie squeezed her eyes tight so the tears wouldn’t come, but this only made her swollen left eye hurt more, and the tears came anyway.
She stayed there a very long time, weeping, listening to the sound of the monster sleeping a short distance away from her, close enough for it to wake up and kill her if it wanted.
Mattie slept, though she hadn’t meant to.
She woke with a start, her breath a sudden exhaled whoosh, her right eye flying open in panic. How could she have slept with danger so near? It was well past bedtime, and William would be furious.
She checked the place where the creature slept. The sliver of moon was hidden by a bank of clouds, and the stars were, too. The sky was an unyielding field of black.
Mattie squinted in the direction of the creature and listened hard. She didn’t hear it breathing or shifting in its sleep. She couldn’t make out its deep shadow against the other shadows.
It was gone. It had gone while she slept.
Mattie uncurled her stiff limbs, stretching her legs out in front of her and her arms overhead. Everything hurt, and the renewed blood flow after sitting for so long made all her aches worse, made her bruises throb with fresh energy. Her left eye, when she touched it, seemed just as swollen as it had been hours before. The thin layer of snow hadn’t seeped through her clothes, which were wool and sturdy, but the cold had, and her bones felt brittle.
Mattie didn’t know if she’d be able to stand but she had to try. She couldn’t stay on the stream bank forever, waiting for William or the creature to come and scoop her up.
After a great deal of pushing and struggling and wobbling she managed to get on her feet, though she swayed as all the blood rushed out of her head. She was so hungry she thought she could eat anything—even the pine needles looked appetizing. Mattie took a few deep breaths until she felt steadier. While the hunger-weakness didn’t go away, she did feel less dizzy than she had earlier, and she attributed that to rest.
Just how long did I sleep? she thought, slightly panicky. If it was long enough to feel that much better then it was probably far too long.
Mattie took a tentative step forward, testing her balance. It was harder to walk when she couldn’t see out of one eye. Her body listed to the right side—the side she could see out of—like a ship with a breach in its hull.
Slow, slow, she told herself. She had to cross the stream, and she couldn’t see well enough to pick out dry rocks to hop on—not that she had the agility at the moment to do so in any case.
There was nothing for it. She’d have to wade through and hope it was shallow enough that only her boots would get wet.
Mattie flinched as she splashed into the water. Every sound seemed magnified a thousandfold, designed to draw the attention of the very creature she wanted to avoid. There was every chance the animal was still nearby. It might have woken only a moment before she did.
Freezing water seeped through the tongues of her boots and over the tops, soaking her heavy knitted socks. Mattie never did such a good job with her own socks as she did with William’s, for it was a chore that she greatly disliked. As a result there were a great many loose holes for the water to pour through and chill her bare skin. By the time Mattie reached the opposite shore she was shivering all over and couldn’t feel her feet. She still didn’t feel entirely sturdy on her legs, either. They wobbled uncontrollably with each step, the steps of a baby toddling for the first time, not the steps of a grown woman.