Winter Camp

The fierce icy wind blew ever more harshly as a girl inched a little closer to the side of the domicile. Her small frame shivered as the freezing air weaved its way around her bare skin. I don’t care she tried to tell herself Anywhere is better than there to night The girl pulled the fabric of her work dress and night robe underneath her feet, while wrapping torn burlap sacks around her shoulders. The cruel weather continued to purge through her meager attire. The poor soul hunched her body together and rocked back and forth. Just for tonight, just for tonight.1

The next morning the child awoke glacial. Her skin was covered with crystals and her hair was heavy and rigged with frozen dew. The Big Cold had came early and she had been stupid enough to sleep out side. I should have hid in one of the storage rooms. Slowly and with much pain, the child rose to her feet. She needed to get warm--fast! She tentatively tried to looked around the curve of the bungalow. But alas! Her eyelashes had frozen together during the night. Quieting her breathing, she positioned her right ear at the corner and listened for voices. Several males were already congregating about The Village . Young pups, growing boys, strapping teenagers, forceful men, and aging uncles were all talking and traveling door to door waking the matrons of the women Halls. 2

What danger she was in! If she were to be seen and told about to the Elders there would be hell to pay. No one (and above all females in waiting) was allowed to be outside their Hall’s doors after curfew. Maybe a pantry door…..The girl hobbled to the back of her Hall blindly feeling for the lever to open the back storage door. Finally she grasped hold of iced metal and pushed all her weight against in. With a satisfying groan the door swung open with just enough room for the child to squeeze through. 3

Stepping onto the ledge she pushed the door closed and pulled the latch down. Even though she stood far from heat already the girl felt better. At least it was room temperature and that was enough. The girl took a large step forward in to open space. Her knees instantly locked cause her to be incapable of stepping back. Slowly her body leaned forward and fell on to the dusty cobble floor. The girl gasped in pain but no sound came out. Everything hit the ground simultaneously, thus a single wave of excruciating pain flowed to every muscle and bone of her body. Even though she knew she was far from warmth, she just rested her head and allowed her consciousness to fade.4

Just minutes before the Matron of Sea-Breeze Hall had gone around to all of the rooms in the waking her pages for the morning. She started at the top( where her room was) and made her way down. Usually bare thighs and breasts could be seen when the Matron went round the rooms, and a few males on each floor who had decided to “spend the night”. She often grew sick of it. The girls to day were very stupid. Three in ten girls gave birth and only one out of that three actually became bed-warmer. If the born child was a girl the two would be dumped. If it was a boy there would be celebrations. Men would get drunk at ten in the morning. Then they would fantasize of having a healthy young son of their own. The men ages 18-40 would run through the village and women quarters looking for the one they wanted. She had heard more screams in the last few years as Matron than she ever did growing up. No self-control she muttered, As if it would kill the girls to keep their legs closed. The surly old woman finally came to the ground level. After knocking on fifty odd doors, the Matron was glad to come to the only door she knew no males hid behind.5

“Come on Hilda, it’s time for you to wake up.” Matron knocked on the door, unlike the others, and spoke firmly. The door opened revealing a slightly round woman. Hilda had a large golden frizz that hung down to her shoulders. Her fierce green eyes popped out from under their lids as she began to wake up. “You know Aggie, if I wanted to be treated like a child I would have stayed up a couple floors.” Agatha the Matron stiffened. She pushed herself through the door and turned. “It is time for you to start cooking. And as the Matron of this hall I have the privilege--”6

Hilda held up her hand. “No, you do not. You have the authority to wake those who are below your command. I am not below your command. I graciously don’t knock you in the head whenever you wake me up at the ass crack of dawn. Now git! I need to put my clothes on and I don’t need your hoity tush bossing me around.” Hilda ushered the old hag out of her room and lock the door behind her. 7