The Piano Teacher

Chapter 5

The next few days were very calm for Charlotte. She mostly slept or sat outside reading Black Beauty, the only book she brought for entertainment.

She found herself strengthening slightly toward the end of the week. There were no massive improvements, but she felt that the iron pills Doctor Baker gave her must be working. She could walk little ways to the stream without gasping for breath and trembling.

However, if she did more walking than usual, those symptoms would return. Still, she was starting to believe that there was hope for her. She would be ecstatic if she could make a substantial recovery for her father's sake. That way, he wouldn't have to worry about her as much, and she wouldn't be such a burden.

She spent many an hour fishing, too. Sometimes, she went with Uncle Samuel, listening to his enthralling stories of the far West and his jokes. But sometimes, she went alone in the morning before Samuel was awake, the sun just clamoring above the horizon.

The sky in the early light was iron gray before becoming periwinkle, then gold. She had never seen such striking sunrises, no smog or columns of smoke to obstruct them, like dreams that had broken into reality.

This morning, she moved with special quietness because she decided to snatch her uncle's tall boots for the sake of not getting so muddy near the stream. She also took his overalls and an old striped shirt and donned them for the same reason. 

She knew her uncle wouldn't mind. However, she was bashful about wearing them as she had never worn men's clothes before. She always thought they looked awfully convenient, and they seemed perfect for going fishing.

In the cool of the morning, the stream donned a fine layer of fog. She sat on a rock with the fishing line in the water, closing her eyes and listening to the sounds around her. The rustling of the tall grass, the trees, the chirps of finches. After half an hour, she hadn't caught anything except a minnow, which she threw back because it was too small to have any use. 

She set her fishing pole between two rocks and washed her face in the stream. The water was so cold it made her gasp, but she loved how refreshing it was. She massaged her face while looking down at her warped reflection in the slow-moving water.

The sickly yellowness of her complexion had mostly subsided, though she was still pale and gaunt. She ate whatever Samuel cooked her, but the meals did not contribute much to her weight.

As cold drops of water dripped off her face, she heard an odd noise up the stream.

She couldn't tell what it was, but it was curious, for it was the only thing in days that had ever interrupted the serenity of the stream. She grabbed her fishing pole and started marching up the rocky river with a flicker of trepidation. She had never gone this far away from the cabin before. What if she grew too weak to return? What if she got lost?

But the strange noise was just about the only interesting thing that happened all week. She imagined it was an animal, perhaps a deer walking through the water. She couldn't see far up the stream because the tree branches hung too low.

As she marched on, her heart shuddered from her lack of stamina. She saw that the stream was wider and deeper ahead. There were more fish, larger ones, scurrying into the murk at her presence. The odd sound continued, a heavy sloshing in the water. Her curiosity got the best of her, and she followed an abrupt curve in the river, passing thick oak trunks.

Then, she saw a man.

There, wading through the stream with a bamboo fishing pole, was a man in tall boots and an old hat. He seemed to be in the process of finding the perfect spot to cast his line. Charlotte was so startled to find another person out there that she froze.