The Spring And The Knot

The bucket was heavy even before it carried water. The rope that held it in Sarah’s hand was frayed from age and scratched the skin on her fingers pink. She could switch hands to share the burden, but then the gruff wooden lip of the bucket would leave identical bruises on both of her calves. These bruises were constantly renewed by her daily trips to the creek, so Sarah would always feel tender when pulling her stockings on in the mornings.

How stupid it felt, to carry the bucket deep into the woods for the good water, when so much water hid in the muddy path that sloshed beneath her footsteps and crept under her toe nails. Sarah wasn’t sure what she would like to have more; shoes that kept out the mud, or dry paths to walk on. Better yet, roads, real roads! Real, civilized, English roads. There weren’t many roads in this “New World”, and the few that did exist were dangerous and a long way between here and anywhere. All safe roads were back across the Atlantic, with many weeks between shores on stinking, creaking ships, that were held together with not much more than that which was holding together the bucket.

The only things that Sarah felt were “New” in this world, at least to her, were the things she was finding in the creek with the good water. It was spring fed, and the water ran clean and unfrozen in winter. The spring was dark and gaping and had no visible bottom, and was about as wide as three or four men standing at arm’s length. Still, no mosquitos frequented its waters, and the animals that drank from its mouth seemed to grow taller than those in other parts of the forest.

Perhaps “New” wasn’t the right word for the items, but “odd” was. Over the past year, Sarah had not always found something odd by the creek, but the few odd items she had found were hard to forget, and much more so to let go of. She kept her collection of oddities in a hollow knot of a tree not more than 20 yards from the mouth of the spring. It was high enough off the ground that one could not easily see inside of it, but still low enough that Sarah could stand on the upside down bucket and reach the contents of the knot without much trouble.

Now, standing on her toes, she collected her oddities one by one; first, she grabbed the small black rectangle, half metal, half glass. When she first held it, the glass side had lit up with a bright white light that frightened her so much she threw down the box and ran home, spilling the contents from the bucket in her panic. She returned to a disappointed and confused Father. She returned the next day, carrying all the bravery she could hold in her chest, and picked up the box, which then did not illuminate and never did again. The next item was a small leather bound black book that contained gleaming milk-white pages. Some of the pages had sloppy thinly inked writings, but Sarah couldn’t read, and had no inclination to share it with anyone that could. Then, there were five badly waterlogged stacks of green paper that she had found floating in the good water. The stacks were bound together with some type of string that snapped back hard when it was pulled back and released. Even though Sarah could not read, she could count and recognize numbers, since she was taught to count the livestock and help her Father manage finances after her Mother’s death. Each note was adorned with a “100”, which she took to mean that it represented one hundred of something. Of the notes that depicted the number “100”, each stack carried one hundred one hundreds, for a combined total of fifty-thousand stern faced old men, or whatever it was that the notes were representing.

Sarah held the notes to her face. There was something comforting about the smell of them; some strange mixture of blood and ink and linen. It was completely captivating.The stiff paper cracked between her fingers like fire. The whole experience of the notes was warm and comforting, and she wondered if there might be some deep magic inside them. She wondered if maybe all these items were somehow magic; the box that held light, the strange notes, and the black book with the sloppy writing could perhaps be a book of spells. She thought about bringing items in to town and seeing if she could get a brother of hers to read the words that adorned the notes and book, but greed sparked in her chest when she thought of sharing the items, especially the notes, and with a thick darkness around her heart she decided to keep them to herself, safe in the knot of the tree.

Sarah was pulled from her moment with her objects when she heard something clumsy and big kicking up fallen leaves behind her. Not even an injured animal was this blatantly loud; only something that didn’t need to survive in the woods could be fumbling around there. She jumped off the bucket and gazed around the trees, expecting either to see her wide grinning brothers or a scowling witch. What she saw instead was a strangely dressed man. Yes, he wore trousers, boots, and a coat, but they were out of any style she had ever seen. Stranger still, he was sopping wet. He had a kind expression on his face, and as surprised as Sarah was, she did not feel threatened, but sense still told her to keep her guard up; he could be a male Witch.

“Hello,” he said, in a strange accent.

Sarah did not respond, and waited for him to say more.

“I’m Gabe,” he walked towards her, “I’m looking for a few things I have lost.”

Sarah immediately thought of the odd items, which she couldn’t be sure he had seen her looking at. She stepped off the bucket.

“I’m Sarah,” she thought about her next words carefully,

“What have you lost all the way out here?”

Gabe looked at the ground and tilted his head.

“Might seem kind of strange to you,” he looked at Sarah, “have you seen anything weird around here? Might have been carried up through the spring, like me.

Sarah froze. Surely he knew about the odd objects. She froze, and he sensed it.

“I’m not trying to scare you,” he said.

“You’re not scaring me,” she replied, a little annoyed at the implied cowardice.

“Well, good.”

The stood in wordlessness for a moment, allowing no sound but that of the creek with the good water babbling.

“Listen, I have lost a journal, a small...box, and a stack of green paper with numbers on it. You can keep the journal and the box, but I really need the papers.” His head was tilted down in such a way that his eyes and brow were almost pointed at Sarah, and from the distance in between them his pointed eyes pleaded. She bit her cheek.

“Why are you so damp?” she asked.

Gabe sighed.

“In a way, I traveled here by water.”

Sarah thought about the good water, and how it came out of the ground.

“How? Did you come through the spring?”

“Yes, in a way.”

So maybe he is a witch, she thought. They stood in the deep sound of the water for a few more moments.

“Just the notes?” Sarah clenched her fist.

“Yes, just those. They’re very valuable to me.”

“What do they mean?”

Gabe paused.

“They’re like… they’re like silver. Or gold. But they aren’t like that here, or at least not now.”

They stood again.

“I promise,” Gabe said, taking a step towards her, “they are of no use to you, but they are of great use to me. I mean, I really need them.”

“Let me keep some,” Sarah said, almost involuntarily.

Gabe scowled, and moved closer to Sarah,

“But for what?”

“Finders fee,” Sarah stepped back. “This is of some value, somewhere, and maybe one day I will go there.”

Gabe held his forehead.

“I highly doubt it.”

“You traveled by water, and so have I.”

The expression on Gabe’s face made Sarah feel as if she had said something incredibly juvenile.

“It’s of some value, and I want it,” she said, holding her ground.

“But you don’t understand…”

“I understand this is of value, and you understand, Gabe, that if you want it back, you will agree to let me keep some notes, as well as the other things. That is the price.” Sarah held her ground.

Gabe, annoyed, clapped his hands only once, but loudly.

“Fine. What’s a few hundred bucks anyways.”

Sarah didn’t know what he meant, since to her, “Bucks” were white tailed and grew antlers.

“Good,” she said. Not quite trusting Gabe, she stepped back onto the bucket with her body turned so that she could still easily see him out of the corner of her right eye. She grabbed the notes and then stepped off the bucket, but was unsure of how to approach Gabe. In her hesitation, he approached her.

“I want to keep two.”

“Ok,” he continued to approach her.

“Two stacks.”

Gabe stopped.

“You want…”

“Two.”

“No, you want twenty thousand DOLLARS,” he muttered.

Sarah wasn’t sure what “doll-hair” he was talking about, but she paid the comment no mind, since she was sure it was what he called the notes.

“Yes. Accept or fight me. That’s my fee.”

Gabe was contemplating ripping them all from her. He had sent the money, phone, and journal through the portal for safe keeping, and here he was, being essentially held up in history. As he stood looking at the stern faced girl, he began to realize that the past may have not been the iron clad hiding spot he had envisioned. He really needed his cash back, as there were people back in his present-day that were waiting with all kinds of harsh tools to beat money out of him. A sharp, icy wind blew between them, and as her knotted hair whipped across her eyes, Sarah did not blink, and Gabe decided it was best, in his own physical clumsiness, to not push this girl. If $20,000 was the price of time-storage and travel without being overtaken by a colonist, so be it.

“Fine,” he said, tight-lipped. He wasn’t pleased with the girl, but he was entertained.

Sarah was only more convinced that he was a witch, but a somewhat benign one, since he likely could have turned her into a toad now if he felt so inclined. Still, in line with keeping a safe distance, she threw three stacks of the notes to him, which kicked up the forest detritus at his feet. She was still watching him with a fierce eye, in case he launched into some kind of attack, but instead he picked up the crinkly notes and walked towards the creek with a smirk and a head shake. He was careful to keep a wide distance between himself and Sarah, so as not to startle her any further. Then, as odd as it was, he stood by the black void of the spring. Looking back at her, he clutched the notes to his chest and said

“Might see you again... some-time.” Then, feet first, he jumped feet first into the black water, his head only visible under the splash for a moment before appearing to be sucked down violently and fast. It startled Sarah, who instinctively took a step back. Still, something in Gabe’s demeanor and calmness made her feel that he must be fine, wherever he was. With all these secrets to keep, she returned the notes to the knot, somehow and returned home with a bucket sloshing full with water.