18360102 08:02:59

18360102 08:02:59

Mrs. Laurel Poole had just woke up from the worst night of sleep in her memory and stood at the side of the house which shielded her from the wind as she straddled over an iron kettle to urinate in it. After the grueling travel which she had to endure to get here, and after the experience of trying to sleep peacefully in the same single room as her two children and the two other strange males, and waking up to this kind of situation was a continued rub of salt upon her emotional wounds. Why would Whitney have ever insisted that she bring their family to this place when it didn't even have accommodations for women to excrete their waste? Did he not envision that this lack of privacy and containment, which would likely be acceptable to a group of relatively uncivilized males, be something to which she would instantly take offense to and object? She felt her body shiver from the exposure to the morning winter cold and struggled to maintain the position of her hands as it held the chamber pot. Laurel felt dismayed that her days of doing things like this were still not yet over. With the act over, she carefully lowered the pot to the ground, then hitched her dress upward as she stepped away and managed to keep her body and clothing from making contact with the waste. A walk of a few yards towards the start of the forest line was the length that she tolerated walking in the snow to find a place to dump the pot. She carried the empty container at her side with a full arm's distance away from her body.
She returned to the cabin to see her two children sitting with the two other males as they both held handfuls of yarn and sets of knitting needles, with the intent to instruct the children on the craft. Envisioning spending the entire day knitting with these strangers while trying to teach her own children how to do it pushed her discomfort to an extent that compelled her to speak out.
"Daron, I understand that you have given us the best comfort which you could provide, but without having my husband here with me, I cannot stand to remain here. This situation is not something that I had envisioned, nor something that I think my children nor I can cope with now. I think we must take our leave immediately so that I may find my husband in Baltimore."
He held his hands motionless in the air as he turned to look at her sternly.
"Mrs. Poole, surely you must understand that doing so would be the worst possible thing you could do. How do you propose to travel that kind of distance in this weather and without any means other than walking?"
"My children and I can make it to the next house by nightfall, and surely they would not turn away a single mother and her children."
"So you don't understand what I said to you yesterday. They will turn any negro away under any circumstance, or even worse, try to get you locked up and taken away. Jesse and I were left for dead here just months ago. It was assumed that with the house being destroyed, we were too. No mail service has come here since, nor has any other kind of visitor or person approached this area until you did yesterday. This is why we have to wait for Whitney to return. We have no other choice. If you leave, I fear that you will be arrested or even die."
"But if I remain here, I will go insane with waiting and become more disgusted with staying here by the day. I just urinated into a pot without having so much as a shack for shelter. This lack of privacy is deeply offensive to me, you must know."
"I know. This is all we can do in the middle of winter, all the same. All we can do is cope and wait for spring."
Silence filled the cabin. Laurel paced on her heels, leaning side to side as she rubbed her hands against her body over her crossed arms, in equal parts due to cold and unease. Daron came up with an offer after a few moments contemplation.
"Mrs. Poole, perhaps you could agree to this. Our horse is wanting exercise now, and you wish to go to Baltimore immediately. The fastest way this could be accomplished is if you were take the horse for the journey and leave your children here."
"L - leave? Leave my children here? Are you insane? How could I leave my children behind with someone who I don't know!"
"And how could I let you take my horse without having any way to guarantee you'll bring it back? Having your children with you would only slow you down as well. And since I know you'll return, and since I'll lack any means of escape without the horse myself, you'll know that I must remain here - and as long as I remain here, I must protect this cabin and all within it with my life. When I made the last trip with Whitney, I had to leave Jesse here alone for the weeks that I was gone. He is proof that I will uphold my word. Should you leave for Baltimore without them, I shall nurture and care for your children as if they were my own children."
"But." Laurel's face winced in making the decision. "But I have never left my children behind for more than a moment. They have always been at my side. I can't-"
"Well, if you can't leave them, then I suggest getting comfortable here and joining us in knitting, so that way we can all make enough quilts to better warm us at night."
Daron resumed positioning the needles within his hands, and Jesse followed suit. Her children sat silent and attentively as they watched them loop the strands of yarn within their fingers.
Laurel remained standing in place. She told herself that these were decent men, or at least one decent man, who had in fact helped to make this cabin and keep it safe as well as ensure that he and the boy had enough to eat to survive. They were doing what was necessary to survive the winter. Meanwhile, her desire to see her husband and confirm that he was indeed recuperating became insurmountable.
"Very well. I agree. I shall ride alone to Baltimore."
Daron turned to respond to her as he did moments ago.
"I'll gladly help you on your way."