The Trail

Chapter 29 | Truth tells no lies

By dawn, the old woman returned. While I was still lost in a haze, she removed the moist leaves from my hand, which felt as if it pounded in rhythm with my heartbeats. After she had cleaned the wound, she redressed it with fresh, cool leaves. She wiped my body from dirt and sweat, which slowly cooled my skin. Then, as she lifted my neck and turned me to the side, she grunted at what she saw.

"How did she get these?", she asked Owen in a stern voice.

I could hear him scratch his head, and got a strange feeling that all of my senses had been heightened.

"Are those... Burnt marks?", he said in an exhale.

"Get out, boy. I will have to undress her", the woman proclaimed.

His protests did him no good as the woman forced him out of the hut, or tent. I still hadn't decided.

"Go walk the dog, or go see Jiemba and smoke pipe with him. I don't really care."

With a groaning sound, I heard Owen's footsteps disappear in the distance. Juniper, however, did not follow as I felt her soft touch against my lower leg.
Then, peering with one eye, I saw the old woman standing with her back turned. Her long, dark hair hung freely from her head. Her clothes were in the shade of blue, decorated with long, colourful ribbons, beads and feathers. On her head she carried a small skull with rounded horns.

The bed, on which I found myself lying, only consisted of straw and dried grass. In the middle of the hut - which held the shape of a half moon - there was a fireplace. On the other side, there was a low, wooden table which carried a round leather bag filled with herbs and bottles.

With her back still turned, the woman, to my surprise, spoke. "I know that you are awake. How are you feeling?"

When she turned around, her face was half concealed in shadow cast by the skull on her head. Long ribbons hung from it, decorated with more beads and feathers. She kneeled down next to me, holding some of her herbs and bottles. Her dark hands, neck and chin were painted with white dots and lines. I thought she was beautiful.

"Speak, girl", she commanded.

"Yes", I said, my voice as hoarse and sharp as the thorns of a cactus.

"Good. My name is Kalinka. You know the rest", she said and began to unscrew the lid on one of the bottles.

I did not.

"Take off your shirt", she said.

"What?"

She sighed. "I need to tend to the scorch marks on your back." Then, she poured a strange, yellow goo from the old bottle into one of her hands.

Reluctantly, and confused, I began to undress. However, it proved too painful to do on my own.

"You do not remember when you got these?", the woman asked as she helped take my filthy shirt off.

Then, she helped me sit. Even the lightest of touch to my burnt flesh caused me to grind my teeth.

"No", I replied and was relieved when she began to smear the strange, yellow goo onto my back. At first it stung terribly, but it did not take long before it soothed the skin and left me with a cool touch. I thought that it smelt of fir and resin.

"Interesting...", the woman mumbled, and once she was done with her treatment, she added: "No more sleeping on your back for a while."