Scarlet Snow

Warning: Contains scenes of death.

It was so terribly cold. Snow was falling, and it was almost dark. John continued shoveling hardened earth into the unmarked grave. The silence surrounding him accentuated the sickening sounds of the task at hand. This was his least favorite part of it all. There was always such finality attached to the burying of a body.

***

Jonathan Tearse had taken over the family trade with his father’s passing. Tearse Ranch of Evergreen Valley. He had always loved the small mountain town where he was raised, but wished he could have returned on his own, better terms. Alexander was newly married and his wife did not want to leave the city they had just begun to settle in. Darcy had offered to come help when she could, mostly on breaks from school, but she had been the first to go to college and their father was so proud. It would not be right for her to drop out so close to graduating. So, the responsibility fell to the eldest sibling, as it should some would say. The current job market had not been kind to John anyway. Trying to find good work, or even start a career, usually required a degree or years of prior experience. Ranching and some customer service were John’s experience and it did not always translate well.

Mama Tearse had passed a few years prior. It was the middle of winter and she had been in the barn milking cows. The story is, a strong gust of wind rattled the barn doors and spooked the animals. Ma had been sitting on a wooden stool when the cow she was milking crushed her in the chaos. Pa did not find her for a few hours because he had been working on repairs in the house basement and could not hear her screaming for help. Eventually, the coroner told them the cause of death was internal bleeding. Their father was not the same after and the siblings firmly believe he died of a broken heart. Hard living and bourbon surely played a part too.

Esmay had agreed to come with John to help around the ranch. She was asleep on the couch next to him, lightly snoring. Coals glowed in the fireplace and John had his feet propped on the hearth. He leaned over to toss another log in and stoked the fire back to life. Outside there was not much to be heard but the occasional sound of howling wind through the pines or the moon calls of a scattered wolf pack. Tonight, however, it was Esmay’s snoring and the crackle of fire finding pockets in the wood. John decided he too would sleep here in the living room amid the warmth and pervading peace.

They both woke at first light and shared breakfast. Esmay finished first, then went to go walk the livestock. Winter was not ideal to put them to pasture with most the ground being frozen or covered in snow, but it was not good penning them up until spring either. 

As John cleaned up the kitchen and living room, folding blankets as he went, he kept noticing stray hairs sprinkled everywhere. A good bit shook out of the blanket where Esmay slept on the couch. Perhaps, this rough winter was beginning to wear on her too. He hoped she had not come to regret joining him. There were times when he wanted to give up himself, but she was there to help and he relied on the company she gave him. Otherwise, John may have become a very dull boy.

Fresh snow was falling as John walked to the barn to clean the currently unoccupied stalls. He took notice once again the additional layer of silence fresh snow brings. It was almost like a muffling of background noise. No birds chirping, or leaves crunching underfoot. A void of sound which felt like a different noise all its own, though it was subtle with an eerie tone. John opened the barn door and broke the deafening silence. He grabbed his father’s old shovel and pitchfork, then got to work.

Papa Tearse had never been able to bring himself to clean up the stall Ma died in. He had the cow slaughtered and sold for parts, but otherwise it looked the same as it was left. Straw was everywhere, some still caked in dried blood. The wooden stool was mightily splintered and pieces lay randomly about the stall. John had not been able to face the task either and he still was not ready today. Instead, he began on the opposite side of the barn to avoid the area as long as he could.

John was filling the last of the troughs with alfalfa when he heard some rather intense growling outside and froze. Suddenly, there was what sounded like screams and John’s heart began to pound all the quicker. He ran for the door hoping it was one of the sheep instead of Esmay. Sheep tend to make a horrible sound when being attacked, almost human like.

When he rounded the corner of the barn, there was once again silence, even more deafening now. John saw what looked like a wolf dragging a sheep away towards the forest surrounding their ranch. As he approached the scene of the crime, crimson stained the snow and steam rose towards the sky. He found Esmay lying there with minimal, labored breathing. Her legs were torn up and face mutilated. John knelt down and wept beside her. He cradled her head in his lap and did his best to soothe her as she sighed her final breaths.

Losing livestock to the elements, or even wild animals, was nothing new. It was all part of being a rancher, especially in a secluded area. To lose his companion Esmay was very different though and almost broke John completely. He called his siblings to update them on what happened and they were able to talk him off the ledge. They all agreed to finally sell the ranch as they should have done in the first place.

Even though it was still the middle of winter, John took the liberty of giving Esmay a proper burial, as Pa had given Ma and how Pa himself was buried. It is said, “Death comes in threes.” John could not wait to leave this graveyard behind and he hoped come springtime he would find a red fern growing where she lay.