Mus’ Rage

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Mus was fuming, jealousy seeping out of every pore, a jealousy that had ripened with time.  Why was Daisy getting all the attention?  Cranberry was supposed to be hers!

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She had been sent from the Skeena to the Bog Clan to live with an old fogie cousin’s family when she was fourteen because ‘she needed some discipline’ her parents had said. She was a very well developed girl for her age and she wore her tunics as low as she could, so that no one would miss that fact.   There were a couple of older brothers in the Skeena whom she had found very interested.  It was so much fun to lead those poor naïve boys on. She couldn’t help it if they enjoyed her flirting, pouting when they didn’t give her enough attention.  Then they tried to get her into the bushes, and when she went, the trouble started.  Just because she giggled when they talked to her didn’t mean she was encouraging them, did it?   But no, she’d been the one to blame, the parents had  all said. The boys were getting ‘a bad reputation’ hanging around her, and they would be ready for marriage soon.  So off to the Bog Clan and Cousin Rush she went, with his wife and four brats.

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She had hated it at first, with no river, smothered by trees.  And bog, everywhere bog. It was always misty, the trees so stunted and moss where a beach oughtta be.  And the smell!  Rotting moss she supposed. It soaked into your clothes, your hair, your nose. You couldn’t get away from it. Rush and Laurel were older when they married and were known for their discipline.   They kept a close eye on her, letting the clan know that this girl needed watching.  She was encouraged to hang around the other girls close to her age; boring Laurel and a few other naïve creatures. She rolled her eyes just thinking about them back then so innocent and pure.  All they talked about was what field they were apprenticing in and hardly at all about boys.  Mus kept putting off her choice of an apprenticeship, because she didn’t want to work.  All Mus had been interested in was boys

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Then she had seen Cranberry and everything had changed. All of a sudden this place of exile became the most marvelous, exciting place Mus had ever been.  He was nineteen, self-assured, charismatic and oh, so handsome!  It was love at first site for Mus whereas he barely noticed her. 

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Then along came Daisy from the Skeena village, visiting relatives in the Bog Clan.  Plain, uninteresting, not a sexy bone in her body Daisy.  And wouldn’t you know it. Cranberry falls in love.  Not with Mus, but with Daisy.  Mus had used all her charms on him, shocking the other girls with her outrageous flirting, something she knew she was good at. Some of the other boys were interested but she had her eyes fixed on the prize, and he didn’t even seem to know she was alive.  Even her last ditch attempt; what she considered her ‘cute little pouting’ routine went unnoticed by Cranberry.  He had had to pursue the fragile, shy little Daisy, when she, Mus was there for the taking; but never taken.  He had tussled Mus’ hair, saying how cute she’d be ‘when she grew up.’ She was only two years younger than Daisy!

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It had seemed that her world had ended when he had asked Daisy to marry him.  She had been passed over for plain, boring Daisy who was not near as beautiful as she was. Just a quiet flower. Daisy was the luckiest girl in the world and she didn’t even know it.  And to make it worse, when Mus had looked so dejected Daisy looked back at her with guarded curiosity and sympathy, asking her what was upsetting her so and could she help? Mus had burned with self-righteous fury. How dare she!  Yes she could help!  By disappearing off the face of the earth! That’s how!  Her malevolence was fermenting more each day. Mus simmered for days.  That was when she proclaimed Daisy her worst enemy.

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Sure, Mus had done second best, married Cranberry’s younger brother Perri who seemed to think her flirting had been aimed in his direction.  Fool.  No, Perri was no Cranberry.  He was always trying to ‘understand her’ when what she really wanted was a ‘take charge’ husband. Perri had insisted they move back to Mus’ home clan, the Skeena at Cranberry’s urging.  So there she was.  Back home with her boring husband.  Yes, she had succumbed and they now had three young brats to bring up in their little ratty disheveled bog hut.  Perri was always out logging, staying in camp most nights when she needed help at home. Whereas Daisy, in her tall cottonwood castle of a house, shingled cone roof with shop attached, always clean as a whistle, had her husband home all the time since he made his tools, for the most part, at his home shop. Mus’ kids had never learned any discipline from their absent father while Daisy’s kids were little angels.  Well, wasn’t that because Cranberry was always home?  It didn’t mean Daisy was such a great mom did it?

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Now everyone was running to Daisy, ‘Poor Daisy’, “We’ll find him Daisy”, ‘He’s still alive Daisy’.   Mus was bursting with contempt at her husband who had insisted on joining the search party.  She knew he would never give up looking for his older brother.  So she would have more precious alone time with her little brats, she thought sarcastically. They were all staying with Bones and Starfish for the Gathering as two of their children were married off and they had offered up the room.  Then there was that wretched little woman Viola, Bones’ old mother who was shacked up there as well.

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Mus wondered then, did she even want Cranberry to come back?  The vitriol rose in her body. No, maybe not.  Now that he had rejected her all those years ago, he could rot on whatever beach he’d washed up on.  If she couldn’t have him then no one could. Daisy could play the grieving widow. After all the sympathy ran out she could see what it was like bringing up her brats without him, never knowing whether he was dead or alive.  Yes, that would do it.  But for this to happen she would need Perri to stay home. Perri would push the search party until it was long past time to give up hope. Mus’ emotions rose as she vibrated with vindictive rage at her husbands’ determination.  Well, maybe she could do something about that. She’s have to have some special mead ready for Perri tonight. A little private outdoor campfire, a bit of flirting and with a little help from some herbs, he’d be in no shape to travel tomorrow.

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She’d have to have a talk with Raven before he went home; if he did. Raven, now there was a decisive man. A man to respect, who wore his weight like a weapon, not a liability.  And there he was!  He could make sure Perri wasn’t part of the search party if she asked him very, very nicely, just in case her plans didn’t work. She turned on her very best coaxing smile as she flagged him down.