Chapter 11
Rick began the story
of Wilder’s restoration. “It’s really a
civic pride project. The town was almost
dead in the late 1960s, but a library employee from another branch spotted a
painting in the library’s attic. It was
a bustling 1800s town, but the guy thought he knew the place. He finally matched up the buildings in the
painting to some old foundations here in town.
We saw what our town used to be and thought we could bring that back.”
Sarah said, “When we
decided to go for restoration is when my husband and I bought this place and
the lot next door that‘s now Sarah’s Place.”
Rick continued, “It
was really weird. Nobody fought the idea
and everyone agreed Thistle Dew/Wilder needed the facelift. All that was on the square at the time was
the Hardware, Post Office, Tackle Company, Bank and Library. This one, and the dry goods store buildings
were there, too, but abandoned and in bad repair. The Hardware almost closed a couple times and
the bank was close to moving out. The
library’s been pretty persistent in staying alive and our newfound love for
history and old buildings has given it some new life. Of course, local construction got the
hardware and bank to reconsider their plans.
I really like this kind of stuff!”
Redtail said, “And it
shows! You’re good at it, too.”
Rick said, “When I
finish high school, I’m going to get an architectural history degree and get a
job with the DNR to work on their historic sites.”
Lydia, the confident
little girl, said, “I get to dance in a long dress when Uncle Cyrus plays his
fiddle!”
“Most of Wilder’s pretty excited about what
we’re doin’ here,” added George.
“I can see why,” said
Redtail. “Can we see the rest of
town? I definitely want to come back and
spend more time here.” Sarah had to get
back to work, so Redtail and George continued the tour.
Next door to Wilder
Museum was Thistle Dew Hardware. In
front of the hardware store was a long bench and wooden rocking chair. Redtail wrinkled her nose at the spittoon
between the two.
George said, “It’s
more a trash can and ash tray than a spittoon, though it can get nasty from
time to time. I’m just glad I don’t have
to mess with it.” They stepped into the
store.
Redtail asked, “Do
all the places have wooden floors like this?”
George said, “Nah,
Gus’ and Rita’s places have more industrial floors, and the bank’s pretty modern on the inside.”
“Hey George,” called
the large man emerging from behind a shelf.
“Hey Big Al! Meet Redtail, my
granddaughter,” replied George.
Al bowed and said,
“How do you do, Ma’am, and welcome to Thistle Dew.” He looked at George and smirked.
George said, almost
under his breath, “Wilder.” George and
Al laughed.
Big Al explained,
“George is one of those ‘Snooties’ who think they KNOW Thistle Dew is REALLY
Wilder. We’re the Realists, who can read
the writing. We’ve seen the official papers.”
George broke in, “No
no no! We’re the Realists. We know Wilder is MEANT to be Wilder. They are actually the Wrongs.”
Both Al and George
laughed.
Big Al said, “We
don’t really fight, but like to play things up for… Hey, George, didja tell ‘er
about the Spring bash and Walk on the Wilder Side?”
“Oh yeah,” said
George, “she’s heard.”
“Anyway,” Al
continued, “We like to have fun with our two names.”
George said to Al,
“We probably oughtta be running off. I
need to show Redtail the rest of town, get some lunch and head home to show her
around our own place.”
Redtail said, “Good
to meet you, Big Al.”
“Next is the Post
Office, which is pretty much the same as any Post Office on the inside,”
explained George as they continued to Gus’ place. “We’ll get to the Post Office some time soon.”
Gus’ Wilder Bait and
Tackle was a big building. It spanned
nearly the whole width of the square.
Gus stocked mainly fishing gear, including his own line of handmade
wooden plugs, flies and spinners. He
also stocked a few firearms and some basic archery, trapping and camping
gear.
Redtail browsed the
camping goodies and said, “I don’t know.
This new stuff seems almost too flashy when I think about my gear. I think I’m pretty well set.”
George said, “As long
as I’m here, I’m gonna get some flashy new fishing line.”
Redtail smiled and
asked, “Can I keep the old line, too? I
can still use it for traps and stuff.”
About then, Gus
walked in the front door, “Finding everything you need?”
George said, “Yeah,
just showing my granddaughter, Redtail, around town and picking up some new
line.”
Gus said, “I saw you
from the General Store while I was getting some snacks. I was hopin’ I’d get back before y’all gave
up and left. Welcome to Wilder,
Redtail.”
George got a fat
spool of his favorite 10 pound monofilament and they headed for the Thistle Dew
Library.
Gus said, “Now don’t
you make yerself a stranger ‘round here.”
Redtail called back,
“I got a feeling I might be making myself more a pest.”
Redtail and George
stepped off the boardwalk and George pointed out the bank, tucked just off the
corner.
Redtail acknowledged
the bank, but looked farther down the road and asked, “Oh! What church is that?”
George said, “That’s
the Wilder Independent Baptist Church: one of the first establishments in
town.”
“Can we go Sunday?”
Redtail asked with eager anticipation.
George said, “Sure we
can. It’s been a few Sundays since my
last visit, but I think I remember how it’s done.”
“We don’t have to
really do anything,” said Redtail, “All the hard stuff’s already been
done. Oh thank you, Grandpa George!”
George and Redtail
stepped up on the boardwalk again onto the last leg of the square before
arriving back at the Jail. They stepped
into the next building, ringing the bell which hung from the inside door
handle.
Linda-Jean, the
librarian, looked up from a computer screen and cheerfully bid George
greetings, “And who accompanies you today, George?”
“This is Redtail, my
granddaughter. She’ll be staying with me
at least part of the Summer.”
Linda-Jean stood up
and extended a handshake to Redtail. As
they shook hands, Linda-Jean said, “Welcome to our humble library.”
Redtail said, “Thank
you. I think your library looks quite
nice. Could you point me to
non-fiction?”
Linda-Jean answered,
“Why sure, it’s right over there along that wall.”
Redtail headed for
the 220s and looked… and looked. Puzzled a bit, then walked back to the
circulation desk. “Where do you keep
your Bibles?” Redtail asked.
“I don’t think we
have any,” said Linda-Jean.
“That’s kinda
odd. Isn’t it still the number one
best-seller in the World?” asked Redtail.
“Yeah, but it’s not
library policy to keep media if it doesn’t circulate,” explained
Linda-Jean.
George looked up from
his paper and asked, “You mean, if I donate some books like those campcraft
books a couple years ago and nobody checks ‘em out, they might evaporate out of
the system?”
Linda-Jean said,
“Yep, that’s what could happen.”
George said, “Well I
better get to checkin’ more stuff out, quick!”
Linda-Jean said, “I
think the case with Bibles is if someone wants one, they usually own a
copy. Let’s get Redtail set up with a
card so she can help keep books circulated.”
“Gettin’ Redtail a
card might be trouble,” said George, “See, she ain’t got any ID, and we ain’t
found no birth records yet.”
Linda-Jean laughed,
“Well, shoot, George, if she’s stayin’ at your place and you’ll vouch for her,
that oughtta be good enough.”
Redtail smiled and
gave George an asking look with her eyes.
“Let’s go for it,” said George.
Redtail said, “We’re
going to church Sunday, so I’ll still need a Bible. As Pooh Bear would say, ‘Think… think…
think…’.”
Linda-Jean said, “If
you’re goin’ to church here in town, one of the Sunday School teachers has a
bunch of hand-out Bibles. That’s my
church, too.”
George said, “If I
don’t find an extra one at home, sounds like you’ll still be set up.”
George and Redtail headed
toward the door.
Redtail smiled and
waved as George said, “You have a wonderful day, Linda-Jean! By the way, how’d you know Redtail was
staying at my place?”
Linda-Jean said,
“Everybody in town knows that. We
oughtta have your card back in a few days, Redtail. No, really, I just came from City Hall, and
Sarah said y’all might be dropping by.”
As they got out to
the boardwalk, Redtail said “That was cool.
I think I’ve always liked libraries.
What’s next?”
“Next, we have the
General Store, run by either Mayor Douglas or The Honorable Lawrence Douglas or
Larry, depending on what he’s wearing,” said George. “He’s quirky fun.”
They entered the
store. Near the door, attached to a
cardboard box about four by four by four feet, hung a big sign which read, “If
You Need Assistance, Crank Handle.”
George snorted,
“What’s he up to now? OK, I’ll bite.” George walked up to the box and started to
wind the crank. “Oh great. It’s playing ‘Pop Goes the Weasel’,” he said. Stopping just short of the “Pop!”, he asked
Redtail, “You wanna finish?”
Smiling and shaking
her head, she said, “No, I think this is a job you should finish.”
George looked at the
box and slowly cranked the handle for the “Pop!” They all expected it, but they all still
jumped. Redtail jumped and gave a little
squeak. George jumped as he quickly
cranked out “goes the weasel.” Larry
jumped up as the lid of the box sprung open, with a cheerful, “Good
morning! How may I help you? Whew!” Larry sighed, “for a second there, I
didn’t think you were going to let me out.”
“You been sittin’ in
there since Gus left?” asked George.
“Wha… Gus was
here? No, I saw you as you stepped out
of the library,” said Larry. “I built
the musical part for the box and thought I’d try it out before making it more
durable. It should be fun at Walk on the
Wilder Side.”
“So, you must be
Redtail. I’m Larry. Welcome to Wilder.”
George said, “We were
making the rounds, and we got two more stops before we head out. We want to see if Rita’s in, then get some
lunch.”
Redtail asked, “Do
you happen to have sewing kits? And a notebook, and a pen?”
“Ya know, Redtail, I
think we’ve got all that –maybe not a sewing ‘kit’ but needle and thread,” said
Larry.
Redtail rounded up
the items on her mental shopping list and even got change back from her
ten.
As they departed the
Wilder General Store, Larry said, “Y’all need to drop by and try out the fancy,
painted, wood version of the jack-in-the-box when I get it done. You have fun in Wilder now.”
George and Redtail
stepped out on the boardwalk again and headed to their last stop on the
tour. Larry and Rita maintained the
little patch of mowed grass between their places. It featured a couple picnic tables and some
patches of flowers.
George said, as they
neared Rita’s Catering, “It’s lookin’ mighty dark in there. She’s probably off on some luncheon run or
something. They got those for someone
all the time at the junior college in Higginsburg.” George knocked on the door anyway. No answer.
“I guess everyone else is having lunch now, so we might as well head
over to the old Thistle Dew Food ‘n’ Fuel for ours,” George said. “Rita’s place used to be the old feed store
–sort of still is, but it prepares people feed now. Yeah, Rita caters, but we’re gonna go to the
sit-down feed store.”
On their way to the
Food ‘n’ Fuel, they poked their heads in at City Hall to let Sarah know they
were getting some lunch.
Sarah said, “I’ll
join you if I can get away, but if not, I’ll catch ya later.”
As they headed out
again, George checked on Mr. Ziffel who was curled up asleep in the back of the
truck. So they scurried across the road.
Chapter 12
George squinted as
his eyes adjusted to the dim light in the Thistle Dew Food ‘n’ Fuel. Redtail shut her eyes tight, covered her ears
and even winced as if in pain.
George asked, “You
OK?”
“They’re always
fighting and yelling,” Redtail said with a near whimper.
“Election year
stuff,” said George. He caught the
waitress’ attention and asked, “Can that be turned down some –at least ‘til
they quit fighting?”
The waitress smiled,
rolled her eyes and said, “Gladly!” as she pointed the remote at the TV hanging
in the corner and muted it.
“Let’s take the table
under the TV. That way, the sound’ll be
directed over us instead of at us,” suggested George.
“Sounds like a plan,”
agreed Redtail.
George started the
table-talk, “What do you think of Wilder –aside from the TV?”
“I love it all! --specially
Sarah’s place, the Museum and the library, even if it doesn’t have Bibles,”
said Redtail. She went on, “I want to
learn all I can about old Wilder and the 1800s.
I’ll bet things were a lot more peaceful before all the electro-gadgetry
took over.”
Just then, two cell
phones went off a couple tables from theirs.
“Yeah,” agreed
George, “electrical communications and media sure have turned up the intensity
of ‘civilized’ life. But I gotta admit,
I do like my Internet. I can communicate
on my time, with the volume usually off, and can be selective on who gets to
fuss at me.”
“I think it’s the
loudness and anger that gets me most,” said Redtail.
“By the way, I looked
up the weather this morning, and it’s looking like rain tomorrow night and for
a few days after.” said George.
Redtail got a look of
concern over the weather report, “Hmm, my camp’s on some low, fairly flat
ground. I oughtta build a wet-weather
camp, too.”
“If you don’t want to
stay up at the house, or even in the barn, I’ve got enough wood on hand to
build a decent weather-proof mini-house,” offered George. “That site you’ve got picked out is nice,
weather permitting, but it gets pretty soggy in wet weather. It’s even flooded a couple times,” said
George.
George and Redtail,
expecting maybe Sarah, looked at the door as it admitted more lunchers. They were a young couple, barely out of high
school, if that. Redtail smiled and gave
a little finger-wiggle of a wave at the boy, who quickly turned bright red and
pretended not to notice as he steered his girlfriend to the other side of the
service area.
Redtail looked at
George and eagerly explained, “That’s the guy I almost met at the Supply
Depot!”
George almost snorted
his coffee out his nose and chuckled, “I wondered how you knew him. That’s Al’s son, Dave –‘LITTLE’ Al’s
son.”
Redtail continued,
“He left Supply before I could even say ‘Hi!’”
George said, “He knew
he’d be caught if he didn’t get out quick.
I’ll have to drop in on Little Al just to be seen by Dave. That oughtta put some fear of dumping without
permission into him.” George smiled and
shook his head as he continued eating.
The door opened again
and in walked Sarah.
Sarah saw the kids
first. “Hello Dave,” she said, and gave
a nod of greetings to his girlfriend.
Dave spilled his
drink. George started to laugh, but
caught himself. Sarah looked over at
George and said, “That’s not funny. He
spilled his drink all over himself and in front of his new girlfriend.”
Dave’s girlfriend
looked at Dave and whispered, “NEW girlfriend?
I don’t think I’m hungry.”
Sarah looked at the
couple, and at George and back at Dave and his girlfriend. “No, I didn’t mean Dave is a womanizer or
anything…”
The couple got up,
paid for their drinks and were leaving as George said, “I don’t guess I’ll need
to talk to Al at all.”
To top it all off, Al
was walking in from the garage and asked, loudly enough to be overheard by the
departing Dave, “Talk to me about what, George?” Out Dave and his girlfriend rushed.
Al asked, “Wow, who
was that leaving in such a rush?”
George pushed his
plate aside and put his head on the table, laughing. He sat up and said to Al, “Now don’t give
Dave a hard time after I tell you what just happened. I think he’s had a rough enough day
already. I really wonder what was going
through his head. Nah, just give him
‘The Look’ a couple times and don’t say anything. Let him sweat.”
“Sweat?” asked Al.
George began, in a
poor, but recognizable “Twilight Zone” narration tone: “Imagine, if you will, a
young man and his date enter an early lunchtime restaurant. His attention is immediately drawn to the
woman who nearly caught him in the act of illegal dumping, when she waved and
greeted him, confirming the recognition question. He knows she is seated with the distinguished
landowner of his planned dump site. They
go to their table and pretend to sit down not noticing, when the police
dispatcher arrives and makes it known, she, too, knows him. The shock causes him to spill his drink. She then takes a seat with the witness to the
near-crime and the distinguished landowner.
The couple attempt a get-away, but not before hearing the distinguished
landowner and the young man’s father saying they needed to talk.”
George laughed and
continued, “I can almost feel him sweating the crime, while trying to explain
away Sarah’s “new girlfriend” comment to his date, and why they had to leave
before ordering lunch.”
George laughed again,
and Redtail said, “Poor kid.”
Sarah pouted, “Yeah,
and I even unwittingly added to the heat.”
Al said, with a
smile, “I oughtta ask, this evening, So, Dave, I had lunch with George, Sarah
and… and… “
George added, “Oh,
this is Redtail, my granddaughter.”
Al continued, “So,
Dave, how bout you tell me about your day, --just to see what info he volunteers.”
George just about
choked, “Al, you oughtta play “Alice’s Restaurant” for mood music so Dave can
hear it before you ask him about his day.
That illegal dumping theme might get him sweating before you say
anything.”
“Sooooooooo,” began Sarah
with a sing-songy tone, “Redtail, what have you got planned for the rest of
your day?”
Al said, “I’d hate to
be in Dave’s shoes right now. That was a
fun story, but who’s the ‘distinguished landowner’ you kept mentioning?”
Sarah added, “Yeah that
was a puzzler to me, too.”
“Rhetorical
questions,” chuckled George.
Redtail answered
Sarah’s question, “George said rain’s in the forecast, so I’ll probably be
spending most of the afternoon building a wet-weather camp, and moving.”
“Oh! I almost forgot,” said George, “I got a tent
you can use, so you don’t have to rush in moving your site.”
Sarah gave George an
almost dirty look.
George defended
himself, “THAT’S IF she doesn’t want to stay in the house or other
shelter. I’m not abandoning her to the
elements.”
Sarah squinted at
George, “I had to make sure.”
Al said, “It’s
getting’ late enough you might run out of time to set up a campsite. Of course, I’d wait ‘til drier weather for
camping.”
Redtail said, “I
think I’m going to try to camp out all summer long. I like it outdoors, and want to see how long
I can go –except for those times Grandpa takes me out to Civilization.” Redtail took her last bite, and said to
George, “I’m ready when you are.” George
stood up and out they went, bidding their proper farewells. Outside, Redtail asked, “That special was good! What was it?”
“Ya know, I’m really
not sure. I had a burger, but I didn’t
notice what the special was.” They got to the truck and Mr. Ziffel stood up and
stretched and started wagging his tail.
He got head pats and body skritches from both his people.
Into the truck and
buckled up, Redtail said, “I think I’m in a happier mood now, than last time I
snapped a seatbelt. I like Wilder!”
“Yep,” George said,
“Wilder’s a pretty decent place –decent people, too.” On their way home, Redtail alerted on a yard
sale. She craned her neck as they
passed. George asked, “See something you
liked?”
“Oh, they had a
bicycle, but it looked pretty small. I
thought one might be handy for running into town if you were gone or busy or
something,” said Redtail.
George said, “There’s
two or three in the barn. They might
need a little work to get ‘em operational, but they were in good shape when
they moved in there.”
“That sounds like a
project for after I get my campsite moved and round up some more food. That tasty lunch took some of the urgency off
the food thing. Thank you again!” said
Redtail.
The crew arrived home
around 1:00. Still a good chunk of the day
left for woodcrafting. Redtail and
George got out of the truck and Mr Ziffel stiffly walked down his plank. He shook it off when he arrived on the ground
and began wagging his tail. Something
told him it was going to be a fun afternoon.
George said, “I’m
gonna go get that tent and the bikes out of the barn and dusted off.”
“I better head to the
woods and find a new site,” said Redtail.
Chapter 13
Less than a hundred
feet into the woods, Redtail found a nice spot for a site. It featured a gentle incline so water wouldn’t
stand, and was high enough she was convinced there’d be no flooding and little,
if any, runoff from higher ground. A
little brush needed trimming so she headed back to the barn for advice. Redtail passed the barn just as George
stepped out with the tent.
“Oh good,” said
Redtail, “I think I found a nice site, but there’s some brush, a redbud tree
and a little hackberry sort of in the way.”
George said, “Let’s
go for it. I’ll bring the chainsaw and
axe. Got the tent, too. I gotta tell ya though, I loaned it to the
church youth group a few years back and it came home with an eight inch gash in
the floor and a pencil-sized hole in the ceiling in the right hand room.”
Redtail exclaimed,
“Right hand room!? How big is that
thing?”
“It’s 9’x22’, if I
remember right. Three rooms.” answered
George.
By the time they cleared
the campsite, Redtail had gotten pretty good with the axe. Aside from getting thorned a few times by
Autumn olive and multiflora rose, George and Redtail cleared a fine site
without injury. Redtail got a fair stack
of firewood in the process as well as a brushpile to bring in some future
game. Mr. Ziffel made regular rounds and
insured everything ran smoothly.
George got on his
hands and knees and began shuffling around like he’d lost a pair of glasses and
was blind without them. Redtail started
to wonder, then figured out what he was looking for.
George caught her
puzzled look at about the same time and said, “Just when you think you’ve got
all the little stubs and staubs or whatever you call ‘em cleared out, you’ll
find one just past bedtime when you’re almost asleep unless ya check really
really good.”
“I’ve got a pretty good mattress, but yeah, I
found one with my knee the other night,” said Redtail.
George, now the
puzzled one, questioned, “Supply had a mattress?”
Redtail proudly
announced, “No, I made one!”
“Well, ya got me
curious.” said George.
“I cut open eight
catfood bags and sewed them together with that fishing line. Then I stuffed the casing with dry leaves and
grass. It’s about twin size, and it
insulates nicely from the ground,” explained Redtail. “I even made a top blanket from more bags and
some of that thin sheety foam plastic packing stuff.”
“I better head on
down and start bringing stuff up hill –and think about dinner, too. I don’t have much dried stuff in stock,” said
Redtail.
George asked, “Want
some help with that, or should I start setting up the tent?”
Redtail said, “I’ve
only got a few trips and they’re not heavy.
I can even set up the tent if you’ve got other stuff to do.”
“I’ll get the tent
set up and then get out of your hair for the day,” said George.
“One more thing,
Grandpa George: which direction do our nastiest winds come from?” inquired
Redtail.
George said, “We get
our strongest winds mostly from the south and southwest, but stormwise, they’re
mostly from the northwest.”
Redtail rounded up
her first load, which was mattress, blanket and non-weatherproof items from her
camp. As she loaded up, she got an
idea. Redtail grabbed a saw blade from
her tool stash and also took that up on her first load.
Up at the wet-weather
site, Redtail stacked the brush she and George had removed to the south and
southwest of the tent, to buffer the wind of potential storms. As she stacked the brush, she looked for the
perfect stick. Redtail wanted to try her
hand at using a cubit stick for hunting.
The stick she found had
a slight curve to it, but would have to do until the better perfect stick
appeared. Her cubit stick (cubit being
the length of elbow to fingertips of the measurer) was hackberry, and about 1
¼” thick. Hackberry’s a bit rough, but
it’s a nice tough wood for a cubit stick, or very simple throwing stick for
hunting and sport.
Back down at the
original site, Redtail rounded up the rest of her tools and more valuable items
from the camp. The leaves rustled. She thought she hadn’t had much practice with
the cubit stick, but she may as well practice on a real target. She stopped packing and spotted her
quarry. It was a squirrel rummaging for
a snack. It was about 50 feet away –a
nice range for throwing. Redtail slowly
side-stepped a sapling which could have blocked her shot as she drew her arm and
stick back. In one smooth fast motion, her
shoulder, elbow, wrist and hand whipped and released the stick. The action was all quick, but her thoughts
went into slow motion.
“Arrghh!” she
thought. “I let go too late.” The stick took a trajectory slightly to the
left of her target, but the target, too, decided flight was in its best
interest, so the squirrel took off to the left, as well. “Quick, grab something to finish it off
before it regains its senses and runs, should it be hit.” Redtail started to run toward the squirrel,
bending down to grab her steel rod. The
spinning blur of the stick, in the meantime, hit the squirrel squarely in the
head. The squirrel spun in the leaves
and started kicking as Redtail fell on it with a couple quick whacks of the
rod. She got the squirrel with the first
throw of her cubit stick. Redtail wasn’t
smug and proud of her shot. She knew her
aim was off. Still, she had her dinner.
Redtail cleaned the
squirrel before anything. Blunt objects
as weapons can leave nasty bruising unless the meat’s taken care of fast. A little shoulder and neck damage, but the
bulk of the squirrel was going to roast up nicely at her new site.
Back to the new
wet-weather site, with squirrel, tools and valuables, Redtail began to settle
in. First things first. Redtail sat down and made a mental note of
what she still needed, well, almost.
"I'm going to
want a place to sit, but, I do have a squirrel that won't wait for me.
Fire pit comes first," thought Redtail.
Redtail took out her
shovel blade and started digging the fire pit, and she thought while she dug.
"Ha! Killing two birds with one stone. That'd be nice. A
little extra meat. If it don't rain too hard, the dirt I'm piling will
make a nice sitting spot. Killing birds with stones --I wonder how hard a
sling is to make and use? No, not a sling SHOT, but a sling. Two
completely different weapons. Atlatl might be easier. Hmm.
Spear? I wonder it there's flint or chert in this ground. I suppose
I could teach myself flint-knapping. The first one to make an arrowhead
did. Augh! More worms! I better get that coffee can
closer. How can I stockpile meat better? What's the difference
between McSumpneruther and MacSumpneruther besides the "a"? Why
on Earth do Scotsmen play bagpipes? Maybe the Scotswomen just have better
musical taste. Why do I continue to think of the old man who identified
me as "the old man" or "that old man?" I'm gonna give
him an acronym for a name. Henceforth, The Old Man is Tom. I wonder
how much work one of Grandpa's bikes will take?"
As Redtail dug, her
mind wandered all over the place. "Don't get lost now. Ya
hear?" she thought with a smile.
Fire pit dug.
Fuel pile stacked and lit. Redtail sat down on her dirt mound and gave a
sigh of accomplishment. Suddenly, her satisfied demeanor changed.
She squinted. Her nose curled. Her mouth wrinkled up. She
wondered, "Eww! Yuck! Did I dig into some putrefying ox
carcass or what?" She started to stand up, retched slightly, and
then noticed Mr. Ziffel had come back on scene.
Redtail laughed and
gagged as she scrambled to her feet, looking something like a panicked spider
on a slick hardwood floor. Mr. Ziffel, of course, thought she'd come up
with a new petting game and tried harder to get his head under her hand.
Redtail made it to upright. Her hands and arms flapped like butterfly
wings as she hopped and ran backward. Mr. Ziffel was having such a good
time with Redtail's new game he started barking.
The frenzy of
activity subsided and Redtail laughed, still keeping her distance from Mr.
Ziffel. "Oh my gosh! *WHAT* did you find to roll in? You
must be the proudest dog in the World!"
While the fire burnt
down to cooking quality, Redtail covered her wood pile with the tarp and
wondered how she might make an all-weather fire pit. Meanwhile, Mr.
Ziffel found something to poke his nose at near the base of a nearby
tree. Redtail still kept an eye on him.
Redtail found a fair
amount of wire. Her Cool Stuff collection eagerly welcomed the
hand-coiled 10 and 12 gauge copper wire, partial roll of 17 gauge galvanized
electric fence wire and a roll of softer but heavier stuff she called stove
pipe wire. Redtail thought she'd heard of some kind of illness over
copper in a diet, but also of the joy of cooking on copper pans. She
practiced erring to the side of caution, so she didn't pick copper for her
cooking wire. She knew not to use galvanized pails for cooking because
the chemicals from the galvanizing process leach into the food. She ruled
out the fence wire. Redtail couldn't think of cautions with plain steel
wire, so she rubbed the excess rust off a length of stovepipe wire and used
that.
Redtail stuffed the
body cavity of her squirrel with wild onions, carrots and parsnip. With
her 'cooking wire' she bound it all together and secured it to an old T-post
she found in the woods. She suspended her dinner over the fire and sat
back to think. She had lots of time for that, living in the woods, pretty
much alone.
Redtail looked at Mr.
Ziffel as he wandered off toward the house. "I'm glad I didn’t get
too far off in the wilderness. I'd probably have a trusty dog, but have
to think stuff like how much better live food keeps." She said
aloud, but not so loud Mr. Ziffel might think she was calling him, "Don't
worry Mr. Ziffel. You're not dinner." She laughed, "Maybe
breakfast or lunch, no, stop that!" She smiled and shook her head
and turned the squirrel over to roast the other side.
Redtail finished her
dinner and did the dishes. She realized
she had a little while more of daylight.
She got up and hopped a few times to work off a near-cramp in her
leg. “Hmm. I oughtta eat more Queen Anne’s lace greens
for the potassium and, of course, drink more,” she thought. She headed up to the barn to see if George
found a bike, and for some general snooping.
Redtail got up to the
mowed grass and into the graveled driveway.
George’s truck was gone, so she figured he went into town for
something. She stepped into the barn
through the people door, as opposed to the cattle or equipment doors. The door opened into a short hallway with a
door capping off the left and right ends of the hall. To the left was the milk processing room. All of which remained of the equipment was
the deep double stainless steel sink. On
the opposite end of the hall was the milking area. The milking area used to house about 40
Holsteins.
Redtail found the
bicycle quite quickly. George had pulled
the bike from its storage location and set it out in the middle of the floor in
the milking area. Redtail guessed it was
for her, but didn’t want to get too excited about it until she asked. She snooped around a bit and found a whisk
broom and began to dust off the bike.
“Whisk, whisk,
whisk.” -pause-
“Whisk, whisk, whisk.” -pause-
“Whisk, whisk, whisk, whisk, whisk.”
-get up- -move away- -let the
dust settle- -repeat. After about a dozen or so rounds of whisking,
Redtail figured the bike to be ride-worthy, pending a functional
check-out. The daylight got to be a
little dim for Redtail to continue playing with the bicycle. She determined all the bike needed were tubes
and tires. About then, the gravel
started crunching in the driveway.
George’s truck came into view as Redtail stepped out of the barn.
Redtail stomped her
feet a couple times, leaving a little cloud of dust. She brushed herself off and waved at
George. She realized she was waving the
whisk broom, and ran back into the barn to put it back where she found it. She scurried back outside and met George
about halfway between the truck and barn.
George asked, “Didja find the bike I got out? I didn’t take time to get it all prettied up
for you because a sudden need in Higginsburg popped up.”
“Yes, I found the
bike. Thank you! That’s why I was so dusty when I came
out. I’ve been working on it,” said
Redtail.
“Tomorrow’s
Saturday,” said George, “and I’ll be gone to Big River most the day. I get to teach one of their scout troops
about survival. You oughtta try that
some time. You’re sure getting the
practical experience. Anyway, I had to
pick up some napkins and paper plates for the program. Picked you up a Bible, too. You’re still game for Sunday morning, right?”
“Oh, thank you again
and again –the trip to town, lunch, tent, and now a Bible!” said Redtail.
George said, “Thank
YOU! It’s fun having someone to share
stuff with. We never did have kids, but
if you’re a taste of it, me and Mae Mae missed out on a lot!”
“Oh!” said Redtail,
“and yes! I’m game for Sunday
morning. I’ll have to build me a sundial
for time approximation. I’m pretty much
up when it gets light, so I’ll be ready.”
“9:30 and 10:45 for
Sunday school and worship,” said George.
“Wanna try both?”
“Absolutely!” said
Redtail. “Do you have a refrigerator
with magnets for hanging stuff in case I get to do some crafts in Sunday School?” She looked at George for an awkward second of
silence and she laughed, adding, “just kidding.”
George shook his head
and laughed and said, “You’re just different enough I’m not quite sure when you
are and when you’re not.”
They exchanged smiles
and Redtail said, “I better be getting’ to bed.
I’ve got a fun day lined up for tomorrow, too.”
Chapter 14
Redtail woke up and
laid there listening. She loved the
racket the barred owls made at daybreak.
“I wonder what I can kick up for breakfast,” she thought. She smiled and kicked a wad of damp
leaves. As Redtail flicked the stuck
leaf from her foot she spotted critter movement.
Redtail pounced on
the leaves, slapping here and there. She
picked up three little morsels. She gave
two an immobilizing thorax pinch and from the third, picked some tiny dirt and
leaf particles from the sticky ruptured spot.
“Wow! Roaches are tender little
buggers,” she thought as she went to get a baby food jar. When she returned to the exposed spot, she
picked half a dozen earthworms and put them in the coffee can. She reserved the jar for cleaner stuff that
really didn’t need rinsing.
Redtail grunted in
frustration. “I suppose I gotta get the
fire going instead of being side-tracked into a micro-hunting trip.” She poked around the old fire bed and found
enough glowing red to get a ball of mouse-starter lit. Redtail stacked on some kindling and then
heavier fuel. “Time to let this burn
down to a cook fire.” She watched the
smoke rise straight up in the still, thick, damp-smelling air. She thought, as she looked at the gray sky,
“Yep. Looks and even smells like
rain. I like this feel.” Redtail closed her eyes, smiled and breathed
deeply.
“Oh frustrations!”
exclaimed Redtail. “Rain! That means forage time might be limited or
even canceled over the next couple days.
I better run down to the creek now instead of later.” With a purposeful pace, Redtail headed to an
almost pond-sized widening in the creek.
It was farther downstream from the Laundry Room by a few minutes, but
the fish tended to be bigger.
After only 20 minutes
of fishing, Redtail had four nice sunfish and a bass of about 13 inches. She thought she’d better quit, rather than
risk part of catch going bad. Redtail
figured the bass would be too chunky to store well, so she happily gave in to a
substantial breakfast. She baked the
sunfish on a small rack in a big pan, trying to keep the heat high enough to
bake and dry the fish, but low enough not to scorch it
Almost finished with
her breakfast bass, Redtail spotted her roaches in the cook water. “Better git ‘em while they’re still hot,” she
thought. She took a fork and scooped
them out of the water and popped them into her mouth. She bit down gently, “Pop! Pop! Squish.” “All simmered to perfection,” she
thought. “I wonder why people are so
squeamish about eating roaches. They’re
about the most mouth-friendly of any of the ento-cuisine. These little woods roaches are about the best
of all of them.”
Redtail insured all
was safe with her campsite and thought, “If I’m going to get back before the
rain comes too hard, I better get going now.”
She grabbed a cat food bag and set out.
She stopped by the barn to write down the tire size for the bike. She picked about a gallon’s worth of
dandelion flowers before she began her walk into town.
Redtail hadn’t gotten
many steps out ZZ toward Thistle Dew before she noticed a pond that looked to
be about 4 acres with about a half-acre island connected to the shore by a
bridge. She wondered if it might be
George’s pond. She hadn’t seen the pond
on their way to town the other morning because it was partially obscured behind
the trees. A bigger reason was likely
because she had been pouting about that trip.
Today was different. Redtail
liked Thistle Dew and Wilder and was eager to return. Redtail aimed to acquire tires and tubes for
her bicycle. She packed her money, her
specifications for tire size and a forage bag so she’d not waste all that
walking time. Redtail spotted a patch of
wild parsnip. She realized one thing she
hadn’t brought was a digging tool.
As she walked, she
thought, “If this had been after the rain and it was this cloudy, I might’ve
tried to pull some of that parsnip. But
the ground’s too dry and I don’t wanna risk bruising up the foliage and getting
that juice on me.” Redtail strolled on.
The road curved to
the north. A Conservation Area was to
her left and fields and patchy woods to her right. She was now well beyond George’s place. Just past the curve, Redtail spotted a
drainage ditch between two fields.
Concrete rubble had been dumped on either side for erosion control or
maybe just disposal convenience.
Protruding from several concrete slabs were pieces of rebar. Redtail didn’t just see concrete junk. She saw digging tools. Like Excalibur, they were waiting for the
worthy recipient to come along. She set
her bag down just off the road and carefully hopped down the bank to the slabs.
Redtail picked a bar about
3’ long and started working it back and forth until it snapped off. She gave it a spinning toss toward her bag
and started working on a two-footer.
Being a little shorter, it was slightly stiffer to get it rocking back
and forth. She finally got it broke off
and absent-mindedly touched the freshly broke end as she surveyed her
surroundings. “Ouch! That’s hot!” she gasped. I should’ve expected that.” Back up the bank she staggered on the
concrete chunks. Some were solidly
planted and some wobbled vigorously. She
almost lost her balance a couple times, but didn’t quite fall or otherwise
injure herself.
Up ahead a fence came
to a corner. The old log posts were
sturdily braced with heavy steel pipes.
A heavy steel pipe was just what Redtail was looking for, but she found
no exposed ends. Redtail smiled as she
saw, down the fence about 50 feet, a small tree with a tightly angled fork
about four feet off the ground. “Ha!”
she thought. “Thistle Dew for a rebar
bender since I don’t see good steel pipes.”
Redtail was proud of her new-found practical use for some local
grammar. She went up to the tree and
used it to hold an end of the rebar so she could bend it into a handle. When she was finished, Redtail owned two new
digging tools, looking somewhat like a tire iron and an awkwardly long
one. She put the short digger in her bag
and casually swung the long one like a cane as she walked.
Redtail’s journey
gave her about ¾ of a mile of wooded, hilly road. When she heard a car, she stepped off the
road in an attempt to remove herself as a hazard. The woodchuck didn’t think himself a hazard,
so he stayed put, snooping about the rubble near the edge of the road. The car popped up over the hill and the
woodchuck turned the wrong direction.
The car swerved a bit, but not quite enough. The situation ended up being bad news for the
woodchuck and good news for Redtail. The
driver probably shook it off and continued to his destination, not giving it
much more thought.
Redtail looked at the
pile of fresh meat and considered her lack of anticipation of such a
situation. She might not have been
prepared, but she was resourceful. “I
guess litterbugs aren’t all bad,” Redtail said as she picked up a flat pint
bottle and a plastic bag. She put the
bottle in the bag and tapped it a couple times on her rebar. The bottle broke and she checked it for
suitable cutting edges. Redtail got a
nice break of about 45 degrees across a narrow end of the bottom of the
bottle. No sharp tips or weak, thin
spots that might leave glass bits in the meat.
Redtail stepped back
up to the road. She looked and
listened. She heard no sign of
approaching vehicles, so she scurried up to the woodchuck, glanced it over,
grabbed it by the tail, and scurried into the trees a bit, so she could clean
it without upsetting any passing traffic.
Redtail laughed as she thought about what she just did. “I’ll bet that looked really animal-like. I feel like I should crouch over it and
growl.” So that’s just what she did,
though she didn’t overdo it. She curled
back her lips to expose her teeth.
“Grrrrr! Grrr!” She thought, “That didn’t sound too frightening. I ‘Grrr’ like a girrrl.” And she gave herself an approving chuckle.
The woodchuck’s head
and shoulders were in pretty rough shape.
Sparing the gruesome details, the skin cut and pulled easily off the
body. The soft belly cut easily for
entrails removal. Redtail made a cut
around the body like a belt, right under the ribcage. She grasped the slippery wad in both
hands. Front end in her right hand and
hind quarters in her left, she firmly jabbed her thumbs into the back where the
cuts met. She bent the body sharply back
and forth and side to side until the two sections were only attached by tendons
and spinal cord. She put on her
determined look and wondered, with a smile, “OK, now do I stick my tongue out
to the left or right for this? Oh
well. Let’s do this. Righty-tighty, leftie-loosie.” She twisted the two parts ‘til they broke
free of one another.
Redtail put the hind
quarters in a plastic shopping bag. The
entrails and front, she shoved into another.
She packed up the broken bottle and wrapped it in an old nearby paper
bag. She rounded everything up and
headed out.
Redtail thought. She had lots of time for that, recently. “For as big as they are, a woodchuck doesn’t
have much meat. Mostly guts –a big
digestion machine. Not as bad as a
‘possum, but still… I’ll probably
process a ‘chuck if I run across one again.
A snapping turtle’s got lots of meat, but it’s a pain to clean. I’d still do it again anyway. I like vultures. I hope they like this part of the ‘chuck I’m
not going to eat. I’ve read a
woodchuck’s like a squirrel on steroids.
They’re sure not as buff as a squirrel.
Squirrels are like a big hard muscle attached to teeth, claws and a
tail. About the only thing I can think
of that’s buffer is a pike. They’re just
teeth and muscle with orneriness. There
weren’t many pines in that woods, and the soil’s hardly sandy at all. Why’d that thought about pines and sand pop
into my head?”
The road left the
woods for mostly-open land for the rest of the trip. About a hundred yards into the open, Redtail
unloaded the buzzard food. “Well,” she
laughed, “after all my work getting that accessible, they’d better appreciate
it.” About then, a car full of kids
drove past. She thought she saw three in
the back window waving and smiling happily.
She gave a big wave back.
She reached the spot
she thought she’d seen garlic on her previous trip. It was starting to put on the distinctive
curly flower heads. She cut a
bouquet-sized handful of heads and another handful of greens and continued on
her way.
Soon Thistle Dew and
Wilder came into view, as did another patch of wild parsnip. This time, Redtail had digging tools. She dug enough for two meals and very
carefully cut the greens off the roots, placing the parsnips in another bag
and continued to her destination. Redtail turned off County Road ZZ and
into the Wilder side of town. She smiled as she looked across the mowed
green square. “Hardware Store, here I come!”
Chapter 15
It was only fiveish
miles from home to Wilder, but Redtail put on close to twice that. Almost 2:00, so she felt slightly
rushed. She made a bee-line for the
hardware store, crossing the square diagonally, not even stopping for the
abundant dandelions on the way. In she
walked with the screendoor jingling the bell behind her.
“Good mor… er,
afternoon, Redtail,” said Big Al, coming out from the back room. “This day has flown by for me. Can I help you find something?”
“Hi Big Al. I’m really hoping to find bike tubes and
tires to these specifications,” said Redtail as she handed him the note.
“The tubes, I got, but,
are you in a hurry?”
In a flash, Redtail
thought, “I need to get back before it rains. I’ve probably got enough to eat
without cooking, but I should save that in case the rain makes fires more
difficult. I gotta get this woodchuck
cooked or dried before it spoils.” She
then said, out loud, “Not really,” with discernible anxiety in her expression.
“You sure? Because I’ve got an idea that could help us
both out.”
“I guess I sort of
lied,” admitted Redtail. “I think I need
to get to George’s place before it rains.”
“Let me tell you my
plan. I need to get in to Higginsburg
before some stores close, but I really don’t want to shut down here for the
rest of the day. You ever worked a
register?”
“I’ve never worked a
register, but I’m good with advanced calculators and decent enough with computers.”
said Redtail. “Not sure how I know that,
but, I am.”
“I’d be happy to take
you back home, and I’m sure Sarah would, too.
I’d grab what I need in town and pick up your bike tires. I could show you real fast, how to do the
register and run credit cards since you already know number pads,” said Al.
“I’d love to help you
out, but I’ve got something in the bag that really needs to be cooked before it
goes bad,” said Redtail.
Big Al said, “No
problem. I got a fridge and freezer and
even a hotplate, pans and a microwave in back.”
“Sounds almost like
you planned this,” said Redtail, “except you didn’t know I was coming. Sure, I’ll do it.”
“I figure if George
trusts you out at his place, I can trust you here, too,” said Al. He began his lesson on register operations.
In about 20 minutes,
Redtail got her register training and a grand tour of the store. She was ready for just about anything except
a special order. If any such requests
were made, she was to write down all the order info she could gather. Redtail and Big Al shook hands and Al headed
out to Higginsburg. The screendoor
slapped shut and the bell jingled.
Redtail began her
self-guided tour of the quiet store. “Oh
wow! And I thought my Cool Stuff pile
was cool. I gotta make me a shopping
list!” She began writing: parachute
cord, tarps, screen for crawdad traps, pocket knife, hatchet, rat and mouse
traps, slingshot, gloves, potato fork…
After almost an hour of writing and wishing, the silence was broke by the
“jingle, creak, smack, jingle!” of the screendoor.
The boy jumped
slightly at the sight of Redtail. He looked to be about 10 or 12 years
old. Hesitatingly, he asked, “Is Mr. Al
here?”
“No, he had to run to
Higginsburg for a while,” said Redtail.
Then she puffed herself up as big as she could, rising up on the balls
of her feet. She stuck her elbows out
slightly and said, in a very poor manly voice, “But you can pretend I’m Big
Al. How can I help you, sir?”
The boy looked
blankly at Redtail, then gave an obligatory faint smile.
“OK, maybe not an Al
substitute,” said Redtail as she let out her puff and dropped back to her
feet. “He left me here to mind the shop
while he’s gone.” She extended her hand
and said, “I’m Redtail.”
The boy, not feeling
a lot of option, shook hands and said, “I’m Kevin.”
“Glad to meet you,
Kevin,” said Redtail. “I still might be
able to help you find what you’re looking for.
I’ve been studying what all we’ve got in here.”
“Uh, well, sometimes,
like, Mr. Al, well, he sometimes saves junk and lets me have some,” said Kevin.
Redtail wasn’t sure
if Kevin was hiding something or embarrassed or shy or a combination of the
three. Then, she spotted a slingshot
pouch peeking out from under Kevin’s T-shirt.
Redtail said, “Well darn it, Big Al didn’t tell me about his junk stash,
but maybe you can help me.” Kevin gave a
cautious anticipating look.
“I’m a small game
hunter,” began Redtail. “You might say I
make my living at it, or at least it’s a big part-time job.” Kevin looked interested as Redtail went
on. “I use traps, cubit sticks, and
archery, mostly. I almost got a deer
with a sharp pointy stick, but that’s big game.
Some of my small game even comes pre-killed. Can you recommend a slingshot or tell me what
I should look for in a good slingshot?”
The ice was
broke. Redtail hit on a pet topic for
Kevin and Kevin felt good about Redtail’s finding him worthy to ask.
“They’re not real
complicated,” started Kevin as he nervously pressed his arm against his side to
better hide his weapon.
Redtail said, “Oh,
that’s cool. I saw your slingshot and
that’s why I asked.”
Kevin was a bit
confused. He felt caught red-handed, yet
eager to talk primitive hunting. Looking
down at the floor, he continued. “There’s
two kinds I use, but I’m not sure what I like best. There’s the tubular rubber kind and the
normal rubber band kind. I like ‘em
both, but I think I use the forked-stick regular rubber band kind the most.”
“Oh, I am sorry!”
interrupted Redtail. “I thought of
something I really really have to get done.
I need to cook a woodchuck.”
Kevin, now with
excitement in his tone, asked, “Cool! Can I watch?”
“I don’t see why
not,” replied Redtail, “and you can keep telling me about slingshots.
Redtail went to the
back room and got the chuck and some garlic out of the fridge. She washed up the hind quarters and back real
good and mashed up the garlic and rubbed it all over the meat.
“Wh… Where’s the rest
of it?” asked Kevin.
“Probably being eaten
by vultures as we speak,” said Redtail.
“Oh cool!” replied
Kevin.
Redtail said, “I saw
it get hit by the car, so it was a nice fresh kill.”
Kevin beamed,
“Wow! Real roadkill!”
“Jingle” went the
screendoor again as two more boys about Kevin’s age came in. Kevin motioned them to come quickly.
“Redtail’s cooking
woodchuck: real roadkill! And she’s a
girl!” said Kevin with a you’re-not-gonna-believe-this tone.
The boys glanced at
each other, at Redtail, the microwave and back at Redtail.”
Redtail checked the
meat for doneness and overheard a whispered, “She’s awesome!” Redtail smiled. She rubbed on some more garlic and said, “I
think three more minutes and we can have some lunch –OK, late lunch.”
One of the boys
looked a little nervous, but Kevin and the other almost in unison said, “Can we
try some?”
Redtail asked, “Have
one of you got a knife, or should I gnaw you off some chunks?” She thought, “I think I’m trying to impress
these little guys, but it’s fun.”
Redtail gave a big smile.
The less-than-eager
boy held out a pocket knife. Redtail
said, “Oh, this’ll work great. You wanna
try some?”
He shook his head
quickly and stepped back. Kevin and the
others stepped forward eagerly, trying to look around Redtail and at the
microwave that was counting down, “…4…3…2…1…DING!” They laughed and even gave a couple jumps.
She took the sizzling
chuck out of the oven and set it on the small table. Kevin said, “This is Jerry and Mike. Mike had the jackknife.”
Redtail said,
“Welcome to my circle of friends, Jerry and Mike!” They gave honored-looking smiles.
“Let’s take this out
to the porch to eat it,” suggested Redtail.
The boys just about tripped over themselves scrambling for the door, as
Redtail brought the paper plate.
Redtail sat on the
bench and Kevin and Jerry plopped down right beside her. Mike dragged the rocking chair over. Redtail gave a short prayer over the food. “Lord, we often overlook how abundantly You
provide for us. Thank You for this meal,
and please bless it. In Jesus’ Name,
Amen.”
Kevin and Jerry
looked eagerly at Redtail. She said, “Go
ahead.” They both grabbed chunks of
meat. Redtail took a whole thigh. She was hungry, and knew what to expect.
Jerry broke the
chewy-noise with, “This is good! We
gotta hunt some woodchuck, Kev!”
Mike reached in for a
piece, too. He smelled it. He put it in his mouth and began
chewing. His eyes got big and he looked
at Kevin and Jerry, saying, “Yeah! We
gotta get some woodchuck!”
As they munched, an
old pickup pulled into town and parked in front of the hardware store. Out got a lanky man with a big beat-up cowboy
hat. “Howdy ma’am –boys.” And he
strolled into the store.
“Excuse me,” Redtail
told the boys. “I got a customer!”
She went into the
store and said, “Hi, I’m Redtail. Big Al
had to run some errands, so he left me here.
Can I help you find something?”
“I’m Renzo. I got the salvage yard east of town. I’m looking for some barb wire to remind
folks where the property line is.” Renzo
smiled.
Redtail walked right
back to the fence wire, saying, “We only got this one size. Hope it’ll suit you. I think it’s in, YES! I remembered it! About 1300 feet rolls.”
Renzo said, “I think
this’ll do just fine.”
Redtail smiled again at
his ‘Thistle Dew’ and asked, “Got all the fasteners and tighteners and other
stuff you’ll need?”
“Awwww, don’t cha
like me?” asked Renzo. “You don’t want
me comin’ back because I forgot something?”
“Oh, but I do like
you. That’s why I’m trying to take care
of you.”
Renzo smiled, tipped
his hat and said, “That’s much appreciated, ma’am. I’m pretty well set up with the other
goodies.”
“Oh good, ‘cuz I
don’t remember what those bent nail staple thingies are called and it wouldn’t
sound professional for me to call ‘em that.”
Renzo paid for his
merchandise and they both stepped outside –Renzo to his truck and Redtail back
to the boys. But Redtail got distracted
by Renzo’s Cool Stuff in the back of his truck.
“Salvage yard!” said
Redtail. “I’d love to go shopping there
some day.”
Renzo stuck his head
out the window and asked, “What kind of stuff are you looking for?”
“Like a 40s or early
50s car or truck hood and a bunch of cooking grills,” Redtail said. “What I’m thinkin’ of is to stand the hood up
and hang the grills inside as a smoker and food dryer for my cook fire.”
“I could definitely
get you set up in that area,” said Renzo.
The boys gathered
around Redtail by Renzo’s truck. They
were eating up this hunting/camping talk.
Renzo asked, “Do you
have a welder? You could make all kinds
of gadgets with what I got in the yard.”
“I don’t even have
running water unless you count the creek.
But I DO have a lighter.” She
smiled at that.
Renzo gave a look of
disbelief. “Prepper, eh?” he asked or
almost stated.
“Nah, I just like it.”
Renzo shook his head
and said, “Well, keep in touch. I can
probably set you up with just about any of the materials you’ll need. I’ll probably even have some spare barbed
wire soon. I gotta head out. Good meeting you.”
They exchanged waves
as he pulled out.
Jerry asked,
“Wow! You live in the woods?”
Redtail looked at the
boys and said, “Oh, we all live in the woods.
Some of us just have more stuff in between.”
“That is so cool,”
said Kevin.
Redtail continued,
“Yeah, pretty much everything we do is wild, wrapped in different layers of
insulation and processing. A word to
summarize advances in civilization is ‘laziness’.” The boys were paying attention. Of course, it helped that a real girl was
talking to them instead of scolding them.
She went on, “Imagine digging a hole.
You start scratching the ground with your fingers. You find a flat rock to move more dirt faster
and less painfully. That was a tool to
make life easier, or less work. What’s
being lazy? It’s avoiding work. But that kind of laziness isn’t always a bad
thing. I mean, how often does anyone say
about a necessary chore, ‘Oh, this is too easy.
How can I make it harder?’ Of
course, there’s the exercise and sport people who like to increase the
challenge. We made lots of stuff to put
between us and the woods, in order to make things easier and more comfortable.” The boys seemed to be getting what she was
saying.
Redtail told the boys
about how without all the spare time laziness had spawned, we wouldn’t have
time for sports and entertainment.
Moving a round object from one end of a field to the other, while people
tried to stop you would never have become a marketable skill were it not for
laziness. And yet we pay people to move
balls so we can watch them do it.
Redtail got interrupted by the back door buzzer in the store.
Redtail went into the
store with Kevin, Jerry and Mike close behind.
Big Al arrived from town with a tallish blonde woman. Redtail and the boys reminded Al of a mama
duck being followed by her ducklings. He
said, with a laugh, “I see you met Kevin and Riff and Raff. I’m never sure who’s who.” The boys smiled. “Oh, I forgot to tell you about the ‘stuff’
Kevin might’ve asked about,” said Al as he got a coffee can from behind the
counter.
Kevin excitedly told
Big Al about what happened while he was gone.
Al said to Redtail, “It looks like you made some new friends. I got a feeling you do that pretty much
wherever you go. By the way, this lady with
me is Lena, Frank’s wife. I ran into her
in the ‘burg and she’s headed to Perry’s Bend, that Conservation Area behind
your grandpa’s place, and figured you could snag a ride with her.”
Lena extended her
hand, saying, “Welcome to Wilder, or Thistle Dew, if you must. So you’re Redtail, the new mystery woman my
husband talks about. Glad to finally
meet you.”
Redtail smiled, shook
hands and said, “Glad to meet you, too.
Frank’s told me so much about you.”
Lena gave a quick suspicious look.
“Actually, I just made that up.
We only met the one time. And I
didn’t ask a whole lot of questions.”
Lena sighed, smiled
and shook her head. “That was cool. You got me on the defensive, wondering just
how much time Frank’s been spending ‘investigating’ and disarmed me all at the
same time.” Lena looked at Al and said,
“Yep, you’re right. Redtail just added
another friend.”
Almost jumping, Al
said, “Oh! Redtail, before I forget, lemme grab your tires and tubes.”
Redtail asked, “How
much…”
Al broke her off. “They’re yours! Thank you so much for allowing me to get into
town during business hours. And you
don’t really have time to argue price.
Rain’s getting’ close and you gotta get moving.”
Redtail took the
tires and tubes and threw a surprise quick hug on Big Al. “Thank you thank you thank you!” said
Redtail. “I hope you don’t regret the
gift, because I plan to use the bike to come into town lots more often!”
“Well,” said Al, “I
can’t see anything regrettable about that.”
Lena said, “I hate to
cut the chat short, but I’m a little tight on time. So, Redtail, if you want a ride, we gots ta
git.”
Al said, “Or I can
give or find you a ride later.”
“’Now makes the most
convenient sense to me,” said Redtail. “Let me grab my forage bag and the
leftovers.”
Lena said, “I’m sort
of looking forward to having you a captive audience for a bit.”
Redtail said, “I
guess we better be headed out then.
Thank you all so much.”
Lena and Redtail left
through the back office door. Jerry said
softly, “Redtail’s cool!”
Kevin asked Big Al,
“When do you think Redtail will come back?”
The other boys paid quick attention.
Al said, “Oh, I don’t
know a lot about her, but she said she’d be around more often, so I’d be
willing to bet we’ll see her every few days.
I’m guessing she’s good at keeping her word.”
(story continues here: http://ognyen.blogspot.com/2017/08/rt-mac-story-chaps-16-date.html )
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