janet fisher~writer

Following strong women through history

Outtakes #1 – A Place of Her Own

Outtakes is a new category for my blog, as explained in my most recent post. In the next few weeks I will be posting scenes which were cut from my book A Place of Her Own. I’ll present the cut scenes in order, some from Martha’s chapters, some from mine. This first scene comes right after the ferry crossing of a flooding Missouri River at the end of Chapter One. I cut this scene to keep the story moving quickly toward the meeting of Martha and Garrett. It was an action scene following an action scene. We just had the exciting crossing, which I thought was stronger, and let this one go. It reduced the word count by 752 words. Clip….

outtakes longshot

 

Scene gets the red-line treatment here in my office.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Martha fought back panic as they raced against the river to load up household goods to take them to higher ground. She and her brothers had been with William and his wife, Eliza, and their family for several days and hadn’t seen a clear day yet. This morning, with the river right at bank full, William’s family had started moving out. They’d taken several loads so far. William’s smaller children and their two dogs were already with friends in town in Carrollton, Carroll County’s foremost town and county seat, which stretched above a soft-edged bluff overlooking the bottoms.

Martha held onto one side of a canvas tarp Eliza was trying to draw over their wagon load, while their nine-year-old son, Will Jr., worked to tie the tarp down. Rain-borne wind grabbed at the billowing canvass and whipped it out of Martha’s grasp. Little Will threw his small weight over it and helped her take hold of her edge again. She could scarcely see for the water dripping down her face.

“That’s good,” Eliza said. “I think we have it.”

Doc and Simpson pulled up their own small cart, and William rushed inside, returning quickly with an armload of blankets and pans.

Distant cries sounded. “Water coming across the bottoms . . . need to get out . . . now!”

William straightened and stared toward the river. “We have to go.”

The animals strained to make their way across the spongy soil. Wheels bogged down, and the men worked to pry them out, while Martha, Eliza and Will tugged at the teams to encourage them forward. Martha glanced back. She could see a thin line of water this side of the trees that had bordered the river. Now the river knew no borders. She took a sudden intake of breath. “How fast will it rise?”

Eliza shook her head. “I don’t know. I’ve never seen it like this.”

They could only progress in stops and starts. Their refuge of soft low hills looked so far. But the river kept closing in. Martha’s heart beat a jolting rhythm. How would they ever outrun the river?

Through driving rain they staggered on, until Martha saw little but the next muddy pool, and the next. Then she realized they were climbing. They had reached the bluffs. Looking up, she saw the growing city of tents being laid out beside Carrollton. She headed straight for their own tent perched near the outer edge. Hope swelled in her and gave her the energy to climb. Daring a glance back, she saw that the river had risen as much as halfway across the bottoms, maybe more. A latent burst of urgency drove her, and she scrambled on up the slope to the tent.

She wanted to crumple onto the ground, but they had work to do. Wagons had to be unpacked, animals tended. But before she put her hand to any of it, clusters of men appeared. Many hands reached out, lifted, carried, tidied. William and her brothers staked out the animals, and William excused himself, ready to walk with Eliza to the home of the friends taking care of their children. Eliza would stay with those friends until this was all over.

Before leaving she grasped Martha’s hand. “Are you sure you won’t go with me and stay in a nice snug house?”

Martha smiled, glancing at the tent, then out at the surging river. “We have a good view from here. Thank you, but I’ll stay.”

Will and his father appeared to be in deep conversation. Then the boy leaped into the air with a shout of joy. “Thanks, Pa!” He ran to the tent, stopped abruptly, and with shoulders high marched inside as if he owned it. Apparently Will Jr. was staying in the tent as well.

Giving Eliza a quick hug, Martha walked back to the tent and sat, just inside the open flap where she could look out and watch the river but still have cover from the rain. Such a spectacle. Logs and debris floated along the surging tide. A house. Some kind of shed. Another house with a rooster and two chickens clutching the top. A barn with a pig waddling back and forth on its flattish roof.

Above the pelting rain she heard the faint sound of the pig’s squeals, punctuated with a rooster’s crow. All the while, the water rose higher until it touched the edge of the bluffs. Would it come even here? Where would she run then?

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