 
DAVID SHATH SQUARE Chapter Twenty-two
Next morning we arose with the sun. The ground was crisp with frost as we walked to the lake to bathe. The water was calm, as if a sheet of bright silver had formed over the whole lake, quelling the waves and reflecting the sun's rays like honed metal.
Thoreena removed her clothes. She waded knee deep in the frigid water, her stomach and breasts now heavily distended with new life, her pregnant beauty in full blossom.
I lay down on the shingle to watch. She was radiant beyond imagination as she swam through liquid silver.
"Come on in, Hardy. It's cold but it's great."
"I'd rather watch you."
"You're chicken...and you need a bath."
"After last night, I've had my fill of water."
I watched her frolic like a dolphin.
"Don't stay in too long. Cold water can't be good for you or the baby."
"You worry too much, Hardy."
She dove deep and remained under water for a long time. At first, I thought she was teasing me, hoping I'd rush into the water to rescue her. But when she didn't resurface, I began to get anxious. I got to my feet and stripped off my clothes. I could still see ripples near the spot she disappeared.
"Thoreena, Thoreena!"
I don't know why I shouted. She couldn't hear me underwater. I began to wade toward the ripples on the water. I was half running and half swimming when I came upon her. It was weird. Her face was a few inches below the surface, looking straight up. Her hands pushed against some invisible barrier, as if she could see the surface but couldn't break through the barrier. I grabbed her under the shoulder and lifted her with my good left arm.
"Thoreena! What's the matter with you. Are you crazy? You scared the shit out of me."
She stared at me; eyes faraway, focusing on a distant universe.
"I'm sorry, Hardy. I didn't do it on purpose."
"Didn't do what on purpose?"
"Die."
"You died?"
"For a moment."
"What in hell's bells does that mean?"
"I died. For a single moment I was out of my body, gone, dead, out of this place."
I looked at Thoreena as if she was crazy. Maybe she was.
"Get serious."
"I am serious."
"What was it like?"
"It was frightening. I was surrounded by ghosts and demons, every imaginable evil being...but, at the end, there was brightness, forgiveness, and beauty."
"At the end of what?"
"At the end of the tunnel."
I could have asked 'at the end of what tunnel?', but knew I it was pointless. Thoreena had divined a future, a future reserved for her, like a fatalistic point on a spinning wheel. The cold water and stress of carrying a four-month fetus, not to mention the stress of our recent lifestyle, had obviously short-circuited her brain.
I wrapped my good arm around her.
"C'mon, you're freezing. Let's go back to the cabin and dry out."
I had trouble with the fire in the cookstove. Our meagre supply of firewood was damp; I scrounged in the bush for bits of dry kindling protected from rain by trees and plant debris.
Once the fire roared, I threw lake trout fillets on the frying pan and cooked them until the flesh flaked from the bones.
I put the pan with the fish on the floor where Thoreena sat.
"Eat this. It'll warm you, renew your strength."
After she devoured several fillets, she stopped shaking and became contemplative.
"Hardy, we're running out of time. We've got to finish the roof if we're going to live here."
"I agree. But with this bum arm, I won't be able to climb the ladder with bundles of shakes."
"That's okay. You split them with the froe and I'll carry them onto the roof."
"I'm not sure I can manage the froe."
"I'm going to remove the sling from your arm. We don't have a choice. It's now or never."
With the sling gone, my right arm hurt like hell when I straightened it. It was weak and inflexible, but with enough strength for me to hold the froe in position. I used my left arm to hammer the froe with a wood mallet, cleanly splitting shakes from blocks of cedar.
We worked all day without stopping. On occasion, I looked to marvel at Thoreena's intestinal fortitude; she carried load after load of shakes up the ladder, nailing them in position with a rock and rusty, recycled nails.
By the end of the day, the roof was finished. We stepped back to admire our work. The roof was sound and strong and beautiful; it gave the cottage a fairytale appearance. I almost expected Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs to troop out the open door.
"Now we need a door that stays on its hinges," said Thoreena.
"It's getting dark. Let's just nail it into position for tonight. Tomorrow we can make some proper hinges," I said.
"What about windows?"
"I think we'll have to be satisfied with shutters, Thoreena."
"Won't it be dark inside in the winter?"
"It's dark outside in the winter."
At that moment, we heard a sound in the bush like two combatants in armour rushing at each other, exchanging blows with giant broadswords. The clashes were followed by feral grunts, as if the fight were to the death and neither expected to lose.
Shadow began to bark, so I wrapped my fingers around his snout to muzzle him and we walked toward the sound. About a hundred yards into the forest, we came upon two white-tail bucks charging each other, heads lowered, their multi-pointed antlers crashing together after every charge. Each animal attempted to flip its opponent, or force it to the edge of a deep ravine where it would tumble to death.
"Mating season," I heard Thoreena say.
"Pretty rough way to win a mate," I said, still holding Shadow's snout.
The two bucks were in the prime of life; weighing about 200 lbs. apiece. We watched their jousting from a safe distance, hidden among granite boulders. With each new charge, I could feel vibrations in the granite, such was the power of the two combatants. Charge followed counter-charge; finally, the two beasts became weary. Even their great strength couldn't sustain this intensity.
They faced-off for one final, decisive encounter. The ground shook as they covered the space between them, two runaway locomotives on course for a collision. When they met, I felt the granite boulders move, as if an earthquake demon had manifested itself under the forest, shaking the ground, trees and rocks with savage hands. Both animals were knocked off their feet, landing on powerful flanks. As they attempted to get up, I could see their antlers were locked together: try as they might, they couldn't disengage. Now both their deaths were inevitable.
I exchanged glances with Thoreena. We both knew we could profit from senseless death.
"There's enough meat to feed us through the winter," I said.
"We can make warm clothing from the hides for ourselves and the baby," Thoreena said.
But how to keep other predators away?
"We'll set up a vigil, light a fire, beat them back with clubs if needed. No animal is going to claim our prey."
To Chapter Twenty-three
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