Weayaya: The Sunset Woman

Chapter 18

Yvonne
1868?

I felt a gentle shaking rouse me.

My eyes peeled to Clara beside me, her face was filled with fear.

The early dawn streamed into the teepee, lightly illuminating it.

"Yvonne," she whispered.

"Clara," I responded.

"A-Sorry to wake you." She began, "I didn't wanna be alone with the old lady." She gestured toward the old woman sitting by the fire, seemingly cooking.

"It's alright, Clara." I sighed. "Remember what I said last night? She won't hurt us. She's just alone. They put us here to comfort her maybe." I smiled a bit, knowing very well what I was saying could have been completely false.

She only shook her head as I rose my body up from the ground.

The old woman grunted as she stood from her seated position by the fire. She shuffled to the chest in the corner and pulled out something. Then she turned toward Clara and I and walked over to us as quick as she could manage.

As she set down what she grabbed onto the ground, I could tell that they were clothes, probably for Clara and I.

She gestured with her hands for us to take them.

I reached out and pulled the material into my hands. It was...a bit rough, but the sewing on it seemed very good. Clara only stared at it.

"Clara," I called lowly, "take it."

She shook her head no.

"Clara," I spoke a bit more sternly, "Come on."

"I don't want too." She out her foot down like she was a child. "Who knows what they are covered in!" She whined. "I don't wanna look like some squaw!"

"Clara," I chastised her.

Please wear these clothes. They should fit you both. It is best to wear these out here...your clothes seem too much...and frankly, very dirty. The old woman spoke, casually pointing at the clothes and gesturing for us to take them and probably wear them. Clara only pouted her lips as I smiled and shook my head at the old woman.

She returned to the fire and continued to cook.

"Clara," I kept my voice low, "don't be difficult."

"But-!" She began to protest again.

"We don't have time for you to do this Clara." I cut her off, "look at us. We are filthy and these dresses make us stand out. If we wanna stay alive, we must change out of these and into those." I pointed to the clothes from the old woman. "They are clean," I smiled at her, "and it maybe easier for us to...ya know." I shrugged, unable to think of anything else that would be able to coax her to change from her ruined and dirty dress.

She looked at me for a minute, still pouting as she grabbed the clothes that were meant for her.

"Come on," I pulled myself off the ground then pulled her with me.

We began to strip ourselves of the ruined dresses as the old woman pushed a bowl of water at us.

I smiled and nodded my head at her.

I was surprised when she smiled back.

Using a piece of the tattered dress I wore, I made a sort of rag, and used it to scrub my face, hands, and arms.

As Clara managed to wriggle out of her large gown, I pulled her with me and scrubbed her too as much as she would allow.

The old woman put two bowls near us; I could smell the food in them wafting through the air.