Chapter 21
Redtail startled to
wakefulness at the cackling of a pileated woodpecker very near her tent. She did her best to interpret what it might
have said and gave a reply. “And good
morning to you, too!”
She got up and set to
getting a fire going. The sky was still
quite overcast and the air smelled heavy.
It was going to be a lighter sort of fire, rather than flint or
lens. Redtail turned over a piece of
sheet metal under which she kept a stash of kindling. Like the woodpecker startled Redtail, she
startled a meadow mouse who’d taken shelter in her kindling. Redtail laughed and growled at herself at the
same time. “I’m turning into Little
Bunny Foo Foo.” But she now had more for
breakfast.
Redtail skinned the
mouse and set aside the lungs and digestive tract for fishbait. She got her fire started and felt secure
enough with it she took the mouse innards and fishpole and ran up to the
pond. One cast and in less than two
minutes at pondside, she had a nice fat bluegill. She headed back to camp. By the time she arrived, the fire had burnt
itself down to a friendly cookfire. She
cleaned the fish and even kept the egg sacks for breakfast. She smiled to herself as she thought, “Fish
eggs aren’t that bad, except they’re kind of hard to turn without breaking the
yolks. But I guess I don’t need to worry
about that since I’m roasting breakfast on a stick.”
With breakfast
finished, Redtail continued her food hunt with only a minor adjustment in her
routine. She collected with the intent
of sharing with others. She’s always
eager to share, but, today, she kept a special eye out for particularly
appealing stuff.
Redtail’s target
plants were thistle, green brier, dandelion flowers, violets, chickweed and
other mild-flavored or texturally friendly plants. She also included a clear plastic jar in her
burlap sack for those live critter examples she was also alert for. She watched for snails, worms, special
caterpillars, crickets, roaches and other favorite snack critters.
Mr. Ziffel came to
assist in the forage and Redtail was reminded of the importance of thorough
rinsing. “Mr. Z, you stick to rinsing
those near the trees and I’ll take care of these, myself,” said Redtail.
After not long,
George joined Redtail in the broke ground patch.
George said, “Good
morning! Stockin’ up?”
Redtail replied, “Actually,
I’m collecting more with today’s program in mind.”
George said, “Well
thank you. Hopefully, we’ll have plenty
of leftovers for you.”
George and Redtail
foraged through lunch, but they didn’t miss out. They snacked along the way.
Redtail asked, “Do
you have favorite references for your edibles studies?”
“I pretty much love
browsing them all,” said George, “but three in particular, popped into mind and
more are trickling in.”
A moment or two
passed and Redtail asked, “Are you going to keep me in suspense, or tell me
what they are?”
George put on a face
of innocent ignorance, but it wasn’t very convincing. “Oh, sure, you wanted to
know, that, too?”
Redtail smiled,
rolled her eyes and gave an exasperated sigh. “Oh yes, please. Do tell.
Do tell.”
George let a smile
crack his innocent look. “Sorry ‘bout
that. I like playing with words.”
Redtail lowered and
toughened her voice. “Yer just lucky Ah wuz in a good mood!”
George gave a shiver.
“That’s almost beyond imagination –you, not in a good mood.”
Redtail said, “Yeah,
kinda scary, huh?”
“OK, there’s a real
early book I got around the time I started sharing the harvest,” said
George. “I think it’s still a good
starter book: Bradford Angier’s Field
Guide to Edible Wild Plants. Then
there’s the out-of-print Wild Edibles of
Missouri by Jan Phillips. Then when
you get familiar with plant ID, Francois Couplan’s The Encyclopedia of Edible Plants of North America: Nature’s Green
Feast is excellent. It’s almost
all-inclusive. Like the title implies,
it’s not a field guide. It assumes the
reader has a good plant ID background to begin with. One of my favorite reviews I saw on it was a
negative review. It said it was ‘too
encyclopedic.’ I rolled my eyes when I
read that and thought, ‘Read the title, ya dope.’ Then there’s the others that trickled
in. Sam Thayers’ books are good. I like his ‘beware of other authors who
simply regurgitate what others have written’ attitude. “Wildman” Steve Brill’s got a fun style and
the drawings in his Identifying and
Harvesting Edible and Medicinal Plants: in Wild (and Not So Wild) Places
are excellent. There’s more, but these
are my stand-outs.”
Redtail asked, “I
wonder if the library’s got all those?”
George said, “They
probably have some of ‘em. If they don’t
have the Phillips book, you can always get on a computer and get the PDF
version free from the Missouri Department of Conservation’s website. Hey, if they’ve got any, we gotta check ‘em
out so they don’t send ‘em to recycling.”
“Is the library on
the way to Midtown?” asked Redtail. “We
could check out the books and have them for display.”
George said, “That’s
not a bad idea. The meeting’s at the
Midtown library and it’s also part of the Trials Library System.”
Redtail said, “Trials
is an odd name. It’s certainly been no
trial for me to use the library.”
George almost
interrupted, “Oh! If you’re going to The Bumpy Log with Lena tomorrow, you
might see if our County Judge, Noyugo is there.
He loves to talk about county history, specially where trials and the
courts are involved.”
They almost got back
to the house when it started raining.
Both quickly put on their rain gear.
George started laughing. Redtail
gave him a challenging look as she asked, “What!?”
“No no no!” said George. “It’s not ridicule. It’s admiration for your
creativity. Is there anything you don’t
make out of cat food bags?”
Redtail said, “Well,
the bath towels and rags didn’t turn out so good…” and her attempt at keeping
her straight face fell apart.
George said, “I don’t
think we’d be so good as a poker team.”
“Yeah,” said Redtail,
“the thought of socks and underwear from cat food bags sort of choked me up and
I figured I’d better not go there.”
George said, “So, we
didn’t see any bunnies out here, did we?
Wow, you even got pockets with flaps!”
Redtail proudly stuck
her thumbs in her flaps and spun around, saying, “Pretty impressive.” Then she almost slipped in the mud.
“Actually, they’re not that exciting.
They’re just flapped slits so I can access other pockets.”
“I still think it’s
pretty impressive,” said George, “but, rain gear or not, we better get
inside. I’ll probably even want to back
the truck in for loading.”
Into the house and onto the kitchen table they flopped their
forage bags.
George said, “I think I’ll make four piles for greens and in
the butter tub we can put the onions. By
the way, feel free to hold back what you need.
You can also take all the leftovers if you want.”
“I think I’m stocked up OK for the wet weather,” said Redtail.
George said, “And I planned on stopping on the way for
sandwiches, so we shouldn’t need to ‘officially’ eat before we go.”
Redtail asked, “Same place we had lunch the other day?”
“I thought we’d drop by the Three Maidens Pub just this side
of Higginsburg,” said George.
Redtail said, “That sounds pricy, but interesting.”
“The prices are really pretty decent,” said George. “The food’s great and they don’t scrimp on
serving sizes, either. The twins used to
live here in Wilder until they opened the pub.
OK, a thistle pile, a curly dock pile, dandelion and pungents pile and a
mild stuff pile.”
Redtail asked, “You want the peppergrass and other mustards
in the pungent pile?”
“You got it figured out,” said George. “Then we’ll take ‘em downstairs and rinse ‘em
in the big sink.”
Redtail said, “You said ‘Three Maidens’ but only mentioned
twins. I know my math ain’t all that…”
George broke in, “The third’s their cousin from
Baldspot. They’re a couple months apart
in age. Lots of people think they’re
triplets. I can sometimes tell ‘em
apart. Krystal, Krystin and Kayla. Any of ‘em will answer to “K”, and Kayla’s
slightly shorter than the twins.”
As they wrapped up the sorting, George spotted Redtail’s
bottle. “Whatcha got in the bottle?
Redtail smiled and proudly held up the container. “I got
some mobile munchies. Mostly bug worms
with a few crickets.”
“What do mean, ‘bug worms’,” asked George.
“They’re not earthworms, but a mix of beetle grubs and moth
caterpillars,” said Redtail. “I got
cutworms, a couple wireworms, June-buggy grubs, geometer moth caterpillars or
inchworms, and I think that’s it, besides the crickets. I didn’t get a lot, but enough to show ‘em if
you want.” She handed George the bottle.
“Wow, these are some fat cutworms,” said George. “I wonder what I’ve been feeding them? Yeah, we’ll show these guys off. It’s adults today, so we won’t have kids demanding
we eat ‘em.”
“I’ll eat ‘em,” said Redtail.
“Yeah,” said George, “but I don’t want to show eating
uncooked.” He set the bottle down on the
table. They finished sorting and each
picked up two bags of greens. George also
grabbed the onion tub. They headed to
the basement.
Redtail fussed, “Ow! These thistles are trying to escape
through the sides of the bag!”
George said, “I’ll have to find a handling stick for ‘em.”
In the basement, the only light was what came through the
back door and down the white-painted staircase.
George pulled the string for the light over the laundry sinks. Then he pulled another and a set of
eight-foot fluorescents lit up a broad expanse of laminate countertop.
Redtail exclaimed, “Wow, what a beautiful food processing
center! Oh, and I love that huge
colander in the sink!”
George said, “I made the colander to fit. Stainless mesh don’t come real cheap, but I
didn’t want galvanized or aluminum for the chemical leaching. I think we’ll put about six inches of water
in the first sink and stir and thrash around the greens in there. Then we’ll scoop ‘em out and put ‘em in the
colander for a good spray rinse. They’ll
drain while we stir and thrash the next batch.
We’ll shake and re-rinse the ones in the colander a couple times before
packing them.”
“Thistle and pungents last?” asked Redtail. “Reusing rinse water probably won’t affect
flavor as much as if it was cooking water.”
George said, “We’ll do the thistle last. It’s got a mild flavor, but I’d hate to get
stray stickers in anything else. We’ll
show how to process thistle on-site.”
They washed, rinsed, sorted and cut into finger-food
lengths, all but the thistle. Then they
put their processed goodies into bread bags.
“I’m thinkin’ we’re ready to load up,” said George.
They packed up the bags and bowl and headed upstairs to the
kitchen.
George said, “Here comes sort of a hard part of program prep
and closure: loading. Set-up can be
awkward, too. This is the part where
lots of people like to help, and I’m thinkin’ you’re a helper, too. I’ve been doing this alone long enough it’s
almost a science. I won’t claim it all
looks neat or flows smoothly.”
Redtail said, “I’ll just watch and help as requested.”
“That’s the thing,” said George. “I got it so mechanical it’s hard for me to
direct. I’ll just think out loud as I go
through all the motions. You just sit
back and watch as you like. You’ll catch
on pretty quick to what I’m doing. Don’t
get me wrong. I love help and the
company. It’s just not easy for me to
give directions.”
“Well, I’ll try to be a good student,” said Redtail.
George began to think out loud. “My program pack usually consists of four
plastic tubs: the props tub, book tub, serving equipment, and miscellaneous. Then it all stacks on the dolly: heaviest on
the bottom, of course.”
George’s programs, at least the ones with wild edibles
concentration, are pretty typical.
Arrive at the site and check in.
Find the set-up location and begin set-up. Tables are often provided, but George can
also provide for himself as needed.
Table cloths from the service box go first, then the serving gear. Then comes the books, then the props to
arrange as the location allows. Food
comes out last, but he likes to keep that wrapped ‘til it’s close to start
time. George is usually introduced, then
gives a short bio, followed by frequently asked questions with answers, then a
brief intro to wild edibles and why people should check into them. George then opens up for questions fielded by
the group. Then comes the hectic part
with serving the samples and addressing questions as people are tasting the
goodies. This is the part he has often
enlisted the aid of what he calls, “Lovely Assistant.” The program slows down, and then when pack-up
time seems right, he packs up the gear.
Books get packed first, then props. The food gets packed next to last, and the
used serving gear goes into the miscellaneous box, as do table-cloths if they
got spilled on. George loves doing these
programs, still, after teardown and back in the truck, the drive home seems so
peaceful. It’s almost like finishing a
long bout of mowing and shutting off the mower and taking a couple nice long,
deep breaths.
Today’s packing would be a little different. It was raining, and George didn’t have the
camper on his truck.
George backed the truck into the garage. He already had the tubs in the bed, but he
laid a long tarp on the floor fairly close to the front. He put two chests on the edge of the tarp and
set the other two snugly against the front pair. George folded the tarp over all and tucked
the edges under the cases on the three remaining sides. He wrapped a set of straps around the cases
like a big belt, then laid the dolly across the top of the pile. George criss-cross strapped the pile down to
the floor. “That oughtta keep things
secure and dryish,” said George as he clapped the dust off his hands.
Redtail asked, “Weren’t we going to pack the food into the
miscellaneous bin?”
George stopped dusting off and looked at the stack. “Yeah, I guess we were. I’ll pretend I intended all along to put that
in the cab with us.”
Redtail smiled, “So, we all ready to go except for the
food?”
Thinking it was too early to leave yet, George said, “Looks
like it, but we’re about… No, we can
head out now and browse library books on the way.”
So they finished loading and off they went.
Their first stop was the library in Wilder.
“I’m going to check out what I donated and turn them in at
Midtown,” said George.
Redtail asked, “Should I get some field guides?”
“Yeah, and grab a garden pest book, too, if I don’t get one
first.”
Linda-Jean popped out of the restroom. “Oh, good!
You’ll save me a stamp. Redtail,
your card came in on today’s run. Now
you’re official. You guys act like
you’re on a mission.”
Redtail said, “We’re getting books for a wild edibles
program in Midtown. It’ll be my first
time past Wilder.”
George had four books in hand and glanced at Redtail’s
books. “I’ll grab a pest book. We’re gonna try to sell people on the library
while we tell ‘em about all the neat stuff to eat out there.”
Linda-Jean asked, “What time is your program?”
George said, “It’s at 7:00, but we got this stop, dinner at
Three Maidens, then a browse of Midtown library’s books for display at the
program.”
“If those books are for display, don’t bother with the
check-out,” said Linda-Jean.
Redtail said, “We don’t want to see them deleted from Trials”
“Yeah, that policy’s usually OK,” said Linda-Jean, “but they
apply it to all the circulating books.
Sometimes, I think non-fiction should have a longer time –well, except
for all those fad diet books. Oh! Here’s your card, Redtail.”
George and Redtail got their books checked out and headed on
their way. Every now and then, George
had to take the wipers to ‘low’, but most of the time the drizzle only necessitated
an occasional manual-on of the wipers.
Redtail said, “I almost asked why you didn’t just put the
wipers on intermittent. What year is
this truck?”
George said, “It’s a ’58.
No AC, but it’s got floor vents and these nice little wing windows.” He flipped the latch and pushed open the
little window. “I miss those floor vents
and wings in the newer vehicles. Of
course, in vehicles this old, 80,000 miles is a ripe old age, too.”
“Yeah, it seems you can go almost that between oil changes
these days with the synthetic oils,” said Redtail.
George gave her a glance and squint. “OK, maybe a slight
exaggeration,” she added.
They rode a bit farther and Redtail commented, “This is some
pretty rocky hilly country, isn’t it? Not much industry or income-property I’ve
noticed.”
George said, “The east and southeast third of the county is
scenic that way but the western part has got lots of wonderful flat
farmland. There was an old lead mine
fairly close to where we’re at, and sheep and goats do pretty nice. I think you’ll like the Three Maidens if you
like critters. They’ve got a real retro
UK feel to their place.”
Redtail almost interrupted, “Oh wow! That’s beautiful, what is it?”
“That’s Rainy Island Prison.
Some old Spanish noble is said to have built it as a castle way back in
the 1500s. The swamp around the place
used to attract folks who wanted to dump metal, old cars, appliances and
stuff. It almost always sunk to just out
of sight, so it’s almost impossible to cross if you’re not on the one road that
connects it to our highlands. I know I’d
hate to try to cross with all that sharp rusty stuff to impale myself on.” George gave a shiver and shook his head.
“It sure is a pretty place,” said Redtail.
George said, “You oughtta see it on a clear, gently breezy evening
at sunset. It’s in silhouette and the
water’s all sparkly. It looks pretty
cool. Still, there’s some weird stories
floating around about that place.”
“An old castle turned prison on an island in a swamp sort of
asks for stories,” Redtail said with a smile.
Chapter 22
“There’s lots of stories about Rainy Island Prison and the
manor house,” said George. “But I should
tell you about the Three Maidens –the pub, not the girls. You can get just about any kind of sandwich
you want. They bake all their own bread
and buns and you get a choice of stuffed potato skins, potato wedges, hash
browns or salad. The servings are pretty
hefty. If you don’t want a sandwich,
they’ve got a wonderful potato and salad bar.
They call it a pub, but they don’t serve alcohol except on Fridays and
during their Highland Games week.
Otherwise, they’ve got a great selection of near beers and sparking
juices along with the usual lineup of sodas.”
After about a mile, the road ducked back in to some fairly
thick trees. Redtail said, “Ooo, we’re
in the forest now!”
They got to the S-curve and there was the sign: Three
Maidens Sandwich Shop and Pub 500 Feet.
The sign was red with white-edged black letters in the perfect sort of
font you’d imagine for a Highland-themed cozy pub. 500 feet farther was a wide red-bricked
driveway with another sign. This sign
was in a heavy stone frame. The red
background had a high gloss polish and the white-edged black lettering had as
flat a finish as could be. The sign was
very clear to read, “Three Maidens Sandwich Shop and Pub”. As they pulled into the drive, Redtail
noticed what appeared at first to be a green border around the sign was an
intricate tangle of gold-edged green vines and leaves, punctuated with tiny red
berries. She craned her neck as they
drove by.
“That is a MOST-beautiful sign!” Redtail said.
“Believe it or not,” said George, “it got vandalized a few
years ago. That was fun when they went
to court. At first, the kids only felt
bad because they got caught. But those
three sweet little maidens and the judge were way meaner to the three young vandal
boys than I was with Dave at the restaurant when he got caught nearly dumping. The three girls know they’re pretty and they
used it on those boys in court.
One of the boys was 15 years old and the other two were
16. One had just gotten his license and
they were all spreading their wings of independence. All those little boy hormones trying to act
what they thought was tough or manly.”
George paused and laughed. “Oh
boy, I wish I’d’ve seen it! Those three
girls didn’t say a thing. They poured all
they had into looking sad and hurt –those big eyes and long wavy red hair and
they figured out how to look on the verge of crying.
Those boys didn’t stand a chance as Judge Noyugo explained
all the work the girls had put into that sign and how the boys ruined it with a
few seconds of thoughtless meanness. Two
boys were in tears and the other was fighting his so hard everyone thought he
was going to pass out.
Anyway, they had to wash off the egg and re-paint or repair
any staining or damage. They ended up
having fun. Two started a sign-painting
business and the third is pursuing a commercial art degree.”
“That’s sad and funny
all at the same time,” said Redtail.
“Yeah, the judge set
it up with the girls beforehand. He knew
the boys were sorry they got caught, but those boys were devastated when they
realized they’d hurt the feelings of those poor sweet pretty girls. I’m glad we’re here now, so I can quit. I’m almost starting to feel bad for ‘em
too.” George added, “You’ll probably get
to meet the judge tomorrow at The Bumpy Log.”
George parked, shut
off the truck, and they exited. The lot
was quite big for an off-the-beaten-path business. George opened one side of a big wooden double
gate, which, with the four-foot-high stone wall, separated the parking lot from
a step back in time and geography.
A couple chickens
clucked peacefully as they cleared the path for George and Redtail. Sheep were bleating behind the stone pub
building. One little lamb bounded out
from around the corner as if to say “hi” to Redtail and George. It gave a little ‘baa’ and bounced back
behind to the others.
Redtail asked, “Are
you sure about this place? I mean, it
looks like it’s got to be very expensive.
It’s a really cool place, but, wow!”
“The girls were pretty
well off when they got the place and friends and family helped a lot, too. I even hauled a couple trailer loads of rock
up here. I think even two of the girls
married into some money,” explained George.
“They don’t pass a lot of their overhead on to customers, and their
atmosphere almost guarantees return trips.”
They stepped
inside. “Oh wow, it smells wonderful in
here!” said Redtail.
Out from the kitchen
came one of the three maidens. “Hi
George!” she said. “I see you’re
accompanied today, and it’s not Sarah.
Oh my gosh! You must be the
Scotsman that couldn’t be!” She looked
back to the kitchen and yelled, “Kayla, Redtail’s HERE!”
A pan clattered to
the floor as a near-clone to the first maiden ran out of the kitchen with an
excited smile.
Kayla said, “Welcome,
welcome, welcome!” as she vigorously shook Redtail’s hand. She gave Redtail a hug, then a quick apology.
“My husband told me about you, and I reallyreallyreally wanted to meet you!”
Pictures of all the
men Redtail recently met flashed through her mind as she tried to figure out
who Kayla’s husband might be.”
The third maiden
walked in the front door with a basket of eggs.
She squealed, “Uncle George!” as she set down the eggs and ran up to
throw a big hug on him.
“This is Krystin,”
said George, “which makes maiden number one, Krystal. I still can’t tell y’all apart without a
hint.”
Kayla said, “Oh,
we’ve been used to that all our lives.
Redtail, the reason I got all excited to finally meet you is it sounds
like you’ve got a really cool story about yourself. My husband only heard snippets from a guy he
works with.”
George said, “That’d
be Frank.”
Redtail said, “OK,
I’ve been racking my brain trying to figure out who your husband might be.”
George said, “I feel
really bad. We’re in a hurry and gotta
place a to-go order and head on out pretty…”
Kayla reached over
and put her finger on George’s lips to continue what she started saying. George looked surprised and Redtail laughed.
Kayla said, “We
absolutely love stories here and have a weekly Bard’s Night on Saturdays. I think you’ve got a tale people’d like to
hear.” She smiled at George and removed
her finger.
“I’m not much of a
story-teller and my memories don’t go back all that far,” said Redtail, “but I
love to hear stories and… George, could
you bring me back out here Saturday?”
George said, “Yeah,
we can do that.”
Krystin jumped and
giggled, “Oh good!” She threw in an almost, embarrassed-sounding, “Sorry. I’ve just missed Uncle George.”
Krystal said, “I
guess, since I’m on waitress duty, I’ll take your orders.”
George groaned again,
“Argh! I really wish we could stay
longer, but I got a program to do in Midtown for their Garden Club.”
“Oh cool,” said
Krystin, “Billy’s in that club now.” She
looked at Redtail and said, “He does the plantings around our signs.”
George asked, “Is he
the commercial art student?”
Kayla said, “Yeah,
he’s trying to plant pictures that change with the seasons.”
Redtail asked, “Is he
one of the three boys who…”
Krystal started to laugh,
“Yes, did Uncle George tell you that story?
It was a fun one to be part of.
The judge read those kids’ attitudes perfectly and came up with a great
plot to help ‘em learn. We even made new
friends out of everyone involved. Not to
shorten the visit, but do y’all know what you want to order?”
Redtail said, “I’ll
just duplicate what Grandpa George orders.”
Krystin chirped, “Oh
wow, we’re family, too!” And she threw a
hug on Redtail like one with which she greeted George.
George smiled and
ordered. “I guess we’ll each have a BLT
on toasted pumpernickel, with wedges.”
He added, “Oh, and melt a slice of cheese over the bacon if you could,
please.”
Krystal said, “Will
do, and I’ll get a menu to send home with our new cousin so she’s not always
stuck with Uncle George’s toasted pumpernickel BLT with melted cheese.”
Krystin picked up her
egg basket and said, “It’s wonderful seeing you again, Uncle George, and to
meet Redtail. I gotta get these eggs
washed and refrigerated. I hope to see
ya Saturday!”
George said, “We’ll
sure give it a good shot!” Krystin gave
a little skip and she waved as she disappeared into the kitchen.
Kayla said, “I want
Redtail to see Storytime’s not at all scary.”
George looked at
Redtail and said, “I’ve even been here as the teller a few times.”
Krystal came out of
the kitchen with the sandwiches in a brown paper grocery sack and handed it to
George. “That’ll be family price for
you.”
“Well, I’m much
obliged girls,” said George. “I tell you
what, you use this to help maintain that nice sign and driveway then.” He
stuffed a wad of bills in the tip jar.
“Oh! I’m sorry,” said Krystal, “Do you want drinks
with the sandwiches?”
George said, “We’ve
got water in the truck.” He looked at
Redtail, “Did you want something different?”
She waved her hand
and smiled, “Nah, I’m fine.”
George and Redtail
reluctantly departed the Three Maidens and headed out to finish their journey. George stopped at WalMart for gas.
Redtail asked, “Have
I got time to run in and grab a few things and meet you back out here?”
“I guess so,” said
George. The truck’s fairly low on gas,
so it’ll take a while.”
“OK, I’ll be right
back.” Redtail ran off across the parking lot.
Several minutes
later, Redtail was crossing the lot back to George and the truck which was
running and ready. Redtail hopped in.
“It seems weird. I knew right where stuff was. Pop! Pop! Pop! And I was outta there. I must have WalMart in my past,” said
Redtail.
“Hmm,” pondered
George. “That doesn’t narrow down your past geography much.”
Redtail laughed and
took another bite of her sandwich. “This
pumpernickel is good! Oh, Krystal and
Krystin called you ‘Uncle George.’ Did
you find them in your woods, too?”
George chuckled,
“No. That story’s sorta sad, but it was
great for me and Mae Mae. Krystal and
Krystin were about nine years old. Their
parents dropped them off the Saturday morning after Thanksgiving, and we were
going to entertain them –babysit, actually, and Dad and Mom would pick them up
from church Sunday morning. I think they
went to Kansas City for some shopping and a movie. They ended up getting in a wreck and we kept
the girls ‘til after New Year’s while their parents recuperated. That’s the short tale without the gory
details. Krystal would jump on every
chance she could to help Mae Mae in the kitchen, otherwise, she’d read anything
she could find in the house. Krystin loved
the kitchen and was a reader, too, but almost like an affectionate kitten, she
seemed to watch for every time I sat down, and she’d hop up into my lap. We’d both read something or she’d read to me
or I’d read to her. I can’t tell the
girls apart on sight at first but Krystin usually gives it away with a hug or
snuggle. They’re fun kids.”
They left WalMart and
headed west to Midtown. The sun tried to
poke through the clouds occasionally and was still fairly high in the sky. George put down his visor. Redtail closed her eyes and slid down in the
seat with her knees up on the dash.
Redtail sleepily
asked, “Do they ever have trouble with guys misinterpreting the friendliness at
Three Maidens?”
George began, “Did
you notice the photos on the wall? Those
tough-lookin’ critters are the girls’ husbands.”
“But ‘Three Maidens’ sounds
like three single girls.”
“They named the place
when they bought it. The husbands came
later. Krystal’s husband once saw a guy
give Kayla a pat on her rear. He went over to the guy’s table and sat down all
friendly-like. He said, with a cool tone,
‘See that series of pictures on the wall?’
He pointed to the massive guy in a kilt, carrying what looked like a
telephone pole. The photos showed the
carry, the toss and an impressive distance before it landed. He said, ‘That’s me. I’m also married to one of the girls
here. I sure hope I don’t see you
touching ‘my’ wife inappropriately.
Probably best not to touch her at all.’
The guy saw two of the girls at the same time, then the third through
the kitchen window. Then he looked
confused. Krystal’s husband added, “And
I ain’t tellin’ which one.’ He got up
and gave the guy a pat on the shoulder that probably felt like getting’ smacked
by a flour sack. I guess Kayla later saw
him studying the pictures on the wall.
There were the kaber toss photos, and some fancy axe and knife-throwing
competition shots of Krystin’s husband, and some formal photos of Kayla’s
husband in uniform. The guy stayed very
self-controlled and civil after that.
Krystal’s and Krystin’s husbands work the farm here, and Kayla’s husband
is with the Donowutt County Sheriff Department.”
Redtail smiled and
said, “Sounds like things are in pretty good hands at the Pub.”
About ten miles out,
Midtown came into view. Midtown’s
population is only about 1500, but it’s got the county’s big
agriculture-related store. Midtown also
has the county’s Garden Club.
Chapter 23
Just into Midtown and
past the farm store, George pulled the truck into the library parking lot. The rain stopped almost an hour ago. They left the boxes in the back of the truck
and went in to get more display books.
George asked the librarian if he could get into the meeting room to set
up for the program.
George and Redtail
found a few more books. They adjourned
to the meeting room, pulled some tables together and brought the gear into the
library. Redtail watched as George began
the set-up.
“Table cloths come
first,” said George. “I do enough
outdoor programs I sometimes absent-mindedly weight the table ends with stuff
first to keep the cloths from blowing in the wind. Ain’t no wind in here, so I didn’t need to
put those books all over the place.” He
gave a laugh. “Which cloths I use depends
on the audience. It really doesn’t
matter what cloths I use for an adult program like this, but I like to use the
prints for kids’ programs.”
Redtail jumped in and
helped spread out the cloths George put out.
The books and bookends went out, then the props, spread out to take
about half the space. On the rest was
displayed the samples buffet, covered to await the program attendees.
George gave a
relieved slow breath. “Here’s that quiet
peaceful time between ready and showtime.”
A woman poked her
head in the door and asked if the Garden Club was meeting there. George said, “That’s what we’re here
for. Is this the room you usually use?”
The woman stopped in
the doorway and said, “I really couldn’t tell you. This is my first meeting and I didn’t want to
be late.”
Redtail glanced at
the wall clock and saw it was 6:40.
“Are we usually this early, Grandpa George?”
“Oh, usually between
40 and 10 minutes early. If it’s any
closer, I feel rushed and I don’t care for that,” answered George.
The new member set
her things down at a table and approached George and Redtail’s set-up. “Mind if I snoop a little,” she asked.
Redtail looked at
George, who said, eagerly, “Oh sure, go ahead.
Feel free to ask questions, too, if you like.”
The woman looked at
the display and asked, “Is this on pest control?”
Redtail answered,
with a smile, “I guess that’s one way to look at it.”
George glanced at the
window. “OK, everybody, behave. The boss is comin’.”
Mary-Ellen, the
Garden Club president, was in her mid 70s, but still made her way around the
garden areas of Donowutt County. Over
the years, some settling had occurred.
Despite her roundness and age, she bubbled with energy.
George got the door
for Mary-Ellen. He bowed and said,
“Greetings Madame President.”
As she walked in the
door, Mary-Ellen gave a quick curtsy and cheerfully answered George’s greeting,
“Professor Peterson.”
Mary-Ellen said to
George, with a competitive edge to her voice, “That’s the fourth time in a row
you beat me to my own club meeting.”
Meanwhile, Redtail
and Elaine, the new member, exchanged introductions.
George said to
Mary-Ellen, “We even tried to give you a chance today. We stopped at the Thistle Dew Library, the
Three Maidens in Higginsburg and even at WalMart on the way here.”
“Well then, you must
just drive too fast,” said Mary-Ellen.
Redtail jumped to
George’s defense, “Oh no! We don’t
knowingly exceed the speed limits.” She
laughed, “George often finds himself thrust into leadership positions on the
road. We get quite a few
followers.” Then Redtail gave George a
puzzled look, “Professor!?”
George laughed, “Professor
is a title conferred on me by Mary-Ellen a couple years ago. I’m pretty sure she’s the only one who uses
it.”
“And although I am
the Garden Club President,” said Mary-Ellen, “the Professor is the only one who
calls me ‘Madame President’. I noticed
y’all had been saying ‘we’. Who are
these young ladies you brought with you today, George?”
George said, “Well,
Redtail here is my granddaughter, and this is the first time I’d seen…”
Redtail answered,
“And this is Elaine. She’s here for her
first Garden Club meeting.”
Elaine said, “Yeah, I
think I want to be a new member. I’m not
with them –not that I think they’re unworthy of my fellowship, but I came
alone.”
As they discussed all
that important stuff, more people came into the room. Mary-Ellen deemed it a fit and proper time to
give the meeting a formal start. She
rapped the butt end of the garden trowel on the bottom of a flower pot. That might sound silly, but that was the
official Garden Club Presidential Gavel Set.
The pot has been replaced twice.
Mary-Ellen introduced George as an expert on organic pest control.
George began, “My
topic for Garden Clubs is really wild edibles, since most of your garden pests
and weeds are. A big drawback in using
harvest as pest control is you probably don’t want to wait ‘til your pest
critter gets to a food-worthy size. They
can inflict lots of crop damage by then.
Plants are lots easier as they’re usually still harvestable small, and
are often more tender.
George told the group
about proper ID of wild edibles and stressed it again. He told about lamb’s quarter, Queen Anne’s
lace, cutworms, Japanese beetles, stink bugs, purslane, flower-of-an-hour, June
beetle grubs, squash bugs, cabbage and corn ear worms and more. Again, he stressed proper ID. Then came the questions and answers.
Many answers were of
the standard sort. ‘No, I don’t eat like
this all the time.’ ‘Yes, they’re real bugs.’ ‘Unlike for plants and mushrooms,
there really aren’t any decent field guides on edible invertebrates.’ ‘For plants and mushrooms, shake off the dirt
and rinse well. Cook or eat raw as
needed. I say ‘as needed’ because some things
must be cooked to neutralize the toxins.
Kill insects by freezing. Boil at
least 3 minutes or otherwise cook. I
like to boil for five, then marinate overnight and dehydrate to a crispy
crunch.’
The youngest of the
men raised his hand and George called on him.
“This question is really for your granddaughter. Do you do the wild edibles thing, too?”
George gestured to
Redtail. She stood up and said, “Yes,”
and waited for an expected silence. She
got her silence and her “please go on” looks and she smiled. “Actually, I live in the woods: a little more
seriously than just camping, so yeah, wild edibles is a regular thing for me.”
George added, “I was
barely able to coax her indoors to help prepare the samples buffet we brought
you.”
The young man said,
“Cool! I’ve got one more question for
Redtail. Are you single?” He smiled and
sat down. The club gave scowls and
laughs.
Redtail answered, “Oh
absolutely. There’s only one of
me.” She played the startled silence for
a second or two and then pretended to realize what he actually meant. “Oh, you don’t mean as opposed to
plural. You meant single as opposed to
spoken for.”
George put his head
in his hands. The club had head-shakes,
eye rolls and laughs.
Redtail continued,
“You know,” and she looked at George and puzzled. “That’s the first time I recall having to
consider that question. I really don’t
know. So, like with wild edibles, I
better err to the side of caution and act betrothed or married. By the way, are you Billy?”
Billy gave a startled
smile and said, “Now I’ve got lots of off-topic questions for you that’ll have
to wait ‘til later. And yeah, I’m Billy,
but…” and he smiled thoughtfully and quit talking.
Mary-Ellen asked a
question. “With so much out there at our
fingertips to eat, why did we ever get into agriculture?”
“Long long ago,”
began George, “people learned about seeds and planting and domesticating
animals. Staying put is easier than
moving. Thag learned how to make pots
and Grogina learned how to spin goat hair and plant fibers. Grog learned how to make carrots out of Queen
Anne’s lace and Thagette grew thicker seed heads on her grass and turned it
into barley. They settled together and
begat little Thags, Grogs, Inas and Ettes and shared what they specialized in,
and our first cities were born.” George
heard a sigh from one of the club members and laughed. “Speeding things up, we learned bulk
agriculture and bred out stuff we didn’t want and specialized in other
non-agriculture stuff and we forgot how to forage. Wild edibles aren’t quite as easy to gather
and process as domesticated human-altered stuff. Flavors and textures might take some
re-adjustment of our now-discriminating culinary tastes. Wanna try some?”
First up to the table
were Elaine and Billy. Elaine knew where
she was headed, based on her pre-program browsing. Billy wanted to find out how Redtail knew who
he was. Soon a crowd of most of the
members had gathered at the table into a mass of inquisitiveness.
“Oh wow! These are
good!” “I never thought I’d eat a bug on
purpose.” “Wild greens are packed with
vitamin A.” “Do you catch all these
yourself?” “Eww, it’s looking at
me!” “Insects are supposed to be really
nutritious.” “Lamb’s quarter is related
to quinoa.”
George answered most
of the questions while he and Redtail served the samples. Redtail answered a few questions but talked
mostly with Billy. He got the story how
she knew who he was, without having to re-live the ordeal. Redtail complimented him on his gardening,
and answered his other question: “No, I don’t even HAVE a phone.”
The crowd around the
edibles table began to break up, so Mary Ellen called the business portion of
the meeting to order. The business
discussion faded into soft white noise as George and Redtail leisurely packed
up and headed out.
On the way home,
Redtail broke the wonderfully peaceful post-program silence. She didn’t break it beyond repair and it
healed itself pretty quick when she finished.
“I like Billy.”
George asked, “You
plan on seeing him regularly?”
“Oh no, not that,”
said Redtail. “He’s barely out of high
school. Besides, I’ve gotta act married,
at least until I know. He’s just a nice
kid.”
“He sure wasn’t
subtle,” said George. “You made a pretty
big impression on him.”
They both laughed and
the silence resumed.
Chapter 24
Redtail awoke Tuesday
morning to a gentle rain: almost a mist.
“Wow,” she thought, “it feels later than my usual wake-up. Then again, I did stay up pretty late. Tonight’s probably going to be another late
one.”
Redtail peeked
outside, gave a little groan, then put on her rain gear. She went outside and picked up a 5-gallon
bucket. She headed up to the house, ran
a couple inches of water into the bucket and wandered out to the lawn. She thought, “This is really cheating. I need to build me a water collection and
purification system.” She squatted down
and picked a couple hands full of dandelion flowers. Even though they weren’t open in the rain,
they were quite easy to find. She
dropped them into the bucket.
Mr Ziffel was
fascinated at the way Redtail waddled about on her haunches, but not enough
that he came out from under the porch and into the drizzle to join the fun.
George was already up
and gone someplace. Redtail went back to
the tent with her bucket of dandelions sloshing about. “They oughtta be rinsed enough by the time I
get home.”
She arrived at her
camp and was a bit frustrated at how wet her shoes felt. “I need some rain boots and an extra pair of
shoes.” She determined to wander around
a bit more since her shoes were already wet.
Redtail put the dandelions in her burlap sack to drain and air while she
poked about under the leaf litter for food ideas. She didn’t want to eat her dried fish unless
she had to, but she also didn’t like the idea of starting a fire for cooking.
It didn’t take long
for Redtail to see the rain had driven lots of worms out of the ground and into
the leaves. “I wish I liked worms more,
but here goes anyway.” She filled her
bucket about a quarter full of leaves after she shook them off and shredded them. She then commenced to worm-collecting. Redtail smiled, “If I don’t eat these myself,
I can at least use them for fish bait.
I’ll let these guys purge in the leaves overnight and maybe shoot for a
fire tomorrow.”
Redtail returned to
her tent and took off her shoes. She
spread them open and hung them on the ends of some of her clothes rods. Late morning, but uncomfortably damp outside,
so Redtail reclined on her mattress.
She’d propped the head end up on her supplies to make sort of a day
lounger. She closed her eyes, dozed
lightly and thought about what her day had in store. About an hour later, something gave Redtail’s
foot an odd tickle. She dreamily opened
her eyes and looked toward the tickle.
Instinct startled her and made her foot recoil. After the sudden movement she gave a sigh of
relief and an eye roll. “Oh you,” she
said with a smile. “I guess you can
prowl around here for mice. I don’t want
any in my food stash. But if you find
any outside, we gotta share, OK?” The
black rat snake flicked its tongue and slowly went on with the hunt.
Redtail got a small slab
of dry fish, mouse meat and the bag of dandelion flowers. She nibbled and relaxed until she settled on
what to do next.
Redtail didn’t think
George came across as a gardener, but wondered if Mae Mae was, and if there
might be a remaining volunteer herb bed as evidence. Redtail hadn’t noticed much that looked
cultivated on the south or west sides of the house, other than a small patch of
lily of the valley. She set her goal for
the east and north of the house.
Between the east side
of the house and the drive, didn’t offer much diversity in plant life, though
the other side of the driveway was fairly heavily foliated. The north or road-side of the house was
really the front, but it was seldom used.
Redtail didn’t focus today on edibles, but on aromatics. She was going out tonight, and to a social
club. Redtail didn’t think she had any
personal odor problem, but she thought she ought to use good smellies anyway.
Redtail had to go
slowly, since her feet weren’t used to being out of shoes. When she reached the front of the house, she
spotted some mints. She didn’t bruise
the leaves to find out what kind. She
made a mental note of them and went on to other things. She spotted some cooking herbs, but left
those alone, too. “I gotta explore this
more, but a different day.” Suddenly her
eyes lit up and she scampered across the driveway. “Yes!” she said, as she yanked up one of
several foot-tall common ragweeds. “Most
people don’t give these credit, but, they’ve got such a fresh smell when
bruised.” She rolled a bit of leaf
briskly between her fingers, sniffed the mangled leaf and smiled. “This will work quite nicely!”
Redtail headed down
the driveway to her camp. She hopped a
few times due to rocks and shifted her route a couple feet onto the grass. Her feet needed more breaking in, but not
breaking. She took a few more steps and
gave a short, delighted squeal. “This’ll
be even better than the ragweed!” She
pulled about half a dozen pineapple weeds and gave them a sniff.
Redtail reached her
site and stashed her forage. She grabbed
the new under clothes, rag and towel she picked up at Walmart, the drying shoes
and the new clothes George got her. She
rolled them all up neatly and shoved them into a catfood bag. With bag in hand, she carefully barefooted it
back up to the barn. She went in and
quickly noticed how dusty the floor was.
She took all her things into the milkhouse. With her rag, she wiped a spot on the counter
by the sink and emptied the catfood bag there.
Redtail grabbed her
shoes and she scurried off for a broom.
The dust on the floor sucked up the moisture from Redtail’s feet
quickly. She left tracks to the sink but
not all the way back out. Out in the
darker, but bigger part of the barn, Redtail found a broom and spotted a
tiller. She hung her shoes on the ends
of the tiller handle. She figured there
was more dry air in the barn than in her tent.
Maybe stuff would dry faster there.
Redtail snooped around until she found a couple longish pieces of
electrical conduit. She found places
near the tiller to poke the ends so she could hang her damp and wet stuff. She swept a path back to the milkhouse.
Redtail gave a
satisfied smile and walked to the window.
The window let in lots of light, but was too dusty to see through. She wiped a tiny peephole through the dust
and watched. The only sign of life she
saw was Mr. Ziffel strolling toward the barn.
The rain stopped for
a while and Mr. Ziffel somehow sensed he was needed on guard duty. When he got to the barn, he laid down by the
door and watched. Redtail smiled and
began what she’d come to the barn for.
“I should have checked this first,” she thought as she turned on the
water at the sink. It sputtered some air
out of the line, and soon ran clear.
“Good! Running water. I wonder if
there’s hot?” She turned on the hot and
it gurgled a bit, ran clear, and the little on-demand heater began making
noise. Soon the water heated. It started getting cooler, so she slowed the
flow so the heater could keep up. She
filled one of the deep milkhouse sinks to about half full of almost hot
water. While it was filling, she looked
in the nearby cabinet and got out a dusty bottle of antibacterial hand
soap. She turned off the water and
studied the surroundings through the peephole again. Nothing except Mr. Ziffel on guard.
Redtail quickly
undressed down to her underwear and washed her hair using the antibacterial
soap. She gave it as hot a rinse as the
heater could muster. After a squeeze dry
and towel wrap, she thought it felt quite good, especially for using hand
soap. With her hair all wrapped up, she
gave her arms and legs a wash with the rag.
She wrung out the rag tightly several times and used it to dry her
limbs.
Redtail watched again
through the peephole and ran back to the sink.
She hurriedly stripped down and finished the sponge bath, except for her
feet. She unwrapped her hair, dried off
quickly with the towel and slipped into the clean underwear. Redtail walked around some on her swept areas
to more thoroughly dry. She then slipped
into her clean slacks and shirt.
She drained the sink,
refilled it and hand-washed her laundry.
Redtail wiped off the wooden chair in the milkhouse and did her feet as
her last act of washing for the day. She
sat down and propped her feet up on the sink until they dried.
A few minutes passed
and Redtail twitched back to wakefulness.
She took a deep breath and thought, “I sure hope I can stay awake
tonight at the Bumpy Log.” She got up
and hung her laundry on the ends of the conduits. The shoes were just about dry. She packed them into her bag and headed back
to camp. Mr. Ziffel saw his guard duty
shift was over and got up to let the door swing open. Redtail gave him a vigorous rub and praised
him for the excellent sentry job he did.
Mr.Ziffel wagged his tail and ambled back under the porch.
Redtail, now back in
her tent, stuffed the shoes with dry rags and hung them back on the clothes
rack. She nibbled more dandelion flowers
and dried meat. Redtail reclined again
on her bed and picked up her Bible for a read.
She smiled as she thought, “This laundry-drying is hard work.”
In Galatians 3, where
Paul reminded his audience we’re redeemed by faith, Redtail heard Mr. Ziffel
announce a guest’s arrival. She marked
her page and stepped outside to investigate.
She got a bit closer to the house and spotted a familiar car and soon
spotted Lena trying to figure out which direction to look first for Redtail’s
place. Redtail made it lots easier by
calling out to her. “Hi, and
welcome! What time is it?”
“I’m early,” said
Lena. “The water got shut off at the
plant, and they let us all go before quitting time. I got the dishwasher loaded and started and
laundry sorted, brownies baked, and a batch of rice krispy bars made for
tonight, and didn’t figure there was a whole lot else to do before the Log, so
I headed out here early. Wanna get the
place set up for the others, or did you have more plans?”
“They’ll let us in
this early?” asked Redtail.
Lena answered, “If
we’re there first, we get to do the letting in.”
Redtail asked, “Is
there a stove or microwave I could use there?”
“There’s a full
kitchen,” said Lena. “The only rules are
to be safe and clean up.”
“Great! Can I run up to the pond and catch a couple
fish?”
“Sure, and if you
have a knife for me I can even clean while you fish.”
Redtail said, “OK,
we’re gonna eat tonight!” Redtail handed
Lena an old steak knife blade –no handle, just blade and full tang. Still, it was sharp enough for shaving.
Lena accepted the
blade and commented, “Ooooo! You got a
nice edge on this. Did you do the
sharpening?”
“Yeah, I got some
files, a broken stone and some ceramic cups.”
Lena asked, “Ceramic
cups?”
Redtail said, “I use
them to finish the edge. The bottoms are
as good as any ceramic sharpener.”
Lena asked, “You got
a special way you clean your fish?”
“I just gut ‘em and
cut off the heads. I eat the eggs, too,
if there are any.”
They arrived at the
pond and Redtail casted. Lena asked,
“Did something happen to your shoes?”
Redtail laughed,
“Yeah, they got wet. But they should be
dry enough for tonight pretty quick.
THAT was pretty quick, too!”
Redtail reeled in a nice pan-sized fourteen inch bass. She unhooked it and gave the thrashing fish
to Lena. Lena took it by the lower jaw
as Redtail slid her bait back down the line and re-secured it to the hook. She casted again and Lena dispatched the fish
and began cleaning.
Redtail said, “It
looks like you’ve done this before.”
“Oh yes, I love
fishing. I’m surprised at how easily
this knife works, even without a handle.”
Redtail asked, “About
ready for another one?” She hoisted a
fat bluegill out of the water.
Lena wiped the body
cavity of the bass out with a handful of grass.
“Bring it on!”
Redtail picked up the
bass innards and pinched off the stomach and about an inch of intestine. She started to put it on the hook and asked,
“Do you want any fish? I’ve easily got
enough now for me. I don’t want too
much, but I want to have plenty.”
Lena said, “I got no
problem cleaning more. Fish would taste
good.”
“As hungry as these
guys seem, it shouldn’t take long to get enough for good sharing.”
As she finished her
sentence, the fishpole was almost yanked out of her hands. Redtail concentrated more on this fish. It was putting up quite a fierce fight in
comparison to the 14 incher. Redtail
said, “If this guy’s fight is any indication of his size, we oughtta have plenty
to share tonight!”
After the fight,
Redtail said, “OK, so it’s not huge by tournament standards, but still, an 18
incher isn’t too bad. We’ll get some
nice chunks tonight. I think I’m done
fishing. Want me to take the knife?”
Lena said, “Oh
no. I said I’d clean ‘em.”
Redtail smiled and
gathered up everything but the last bass and the knife. Lena finished cleaning the fish and wiping
out the body cavity and they headed back to the camp. Redtail led them to the water spigot on the
side of the house. “Let’s give ‘em a
good clean rinse.”
Redtail and Lena
arrived at the campsite. Redtail dried
off her feet and put on the shoes. “Oh
good! They’re almost totally dry. They only feel a little cool.” She stuffed her pockets with pineapple weed, grabbed
her umbrella and they headed to Lena’s car.
Lena pulled out of
the driveway and headed east on ZZ. “I
sure hope the judge comes tonight. He
doesn’t hear cases on Wednesdays so he often stays late here on Tuesday night. Ooo!
That stuff you put in your pockets smells good. What is it?”
Redtail said, “It’s
pineapple weed, but some people call it stinking chamomile. I’ve heard from several that the Judge is an
interesting guy to listen to.”
Lena said, “Yeah,
he’s the authority on local history and an eager story-teller. He says he listens all day and that’s why he
likes to tell stories at night.”
After almost two
miles of nearly straight, gently-rolling road, ZZ turned into hilly twisty ups
and downs. “This eastern part of the
road is where bikers and kids sometimes like to play. You might even catch an old man from time to
time testing out his sports car on this end of the road.” Lena drove responsibly, but also with
confidence.
“There’s a fair
number of wrecks out here,” said Lena.
“Mostly single vehicle and kids.
Frank spends quite a bit of time on ZZ.”
The road leveled out
and straightened slightly as they approached a hilltop. Redtail gave a short quiet giggle as she saw
the hand-painted place name sign, black on white, which said, ‘Nowhere’. ZZ had stop signs and County Road E did
not. To their left, on the northwest
corner was EZ’s Treasure Shop. Across E
and to the right, on the southeast corner was a low wide building with a sign
over the door which read, ‘The Bumpy Log Social Club.’
Redtail said,
“Another place name comes to mind, ‘Why Here?’
I’ll bet there’s fun stories behind these names.”
Lena began as she
pulled across E and into the Bumpy Log’s parking lot, “I kind of like the
stories behind Now Here and EZ’s places.
Technically, The Bumpy Log’s not a managed club. The owner really only provides the facility
and most of the furniture and conveniences.
We regulars know where stuff is and how to fix drinks and food if it’s
not already available.”
They stopped the car and got out and Lena said she’d run
across the road to get the key and be right back. Redtail looked around and smiled at the
place’s seeming charm.
Lena returned and started back into the story as she
unlocked the door. “Imagine in your own
home a huge living-dining room with a big kitchen and restrooms attached. One of the first things you’ll notice on
entering, besides being asked if you know the secret password, is the
décor. It features lots of rough cut,
gnarly, burly, knotty woods. That’s where
The Bumpy Log gets its name.”
Chapter 25
Lena stepped into The Bumpy Log first, then swung around barring
the entrance for Redtail. She said, “I
gotta ask if you know the secret password.
It’s sort of a formality.”
Redtail said incredulously, “I don’t know the password! This is my first time here.”
Lena laughed, “Good.
That means it’s still secret. We
just want to make sure it stays secret. C’mon
in.”
“Do you know the password?” asked Redtail.
“I’m not sure anyone does.
I sure don’t. Maybe EZ might,”
said Lena. “It’s been a secret for as
long as I can remember. And now I’ll
tell ya of the origin of The Bumpy Log Social Club. It’s sort of a fun story.”
The story goes something like this. Ever since Desert Storm, Ezekiel Dossett had
shied away from people. He could have
been called a recluse, yet he loved friends and family. He was in a rough spot. He loved to talk to new people, but he was
anything but a social butterfly. You
probably know the type. You might even
be that type, but you don’t strike me as such.
Ten or so years ago, EZ, as Ezekiel’s friends called him,
was out cruising the yard sales for treasures for his flea market booth in
Warrensburg. He’d dreamed of one day
owning his own second hand store. EZ
drove up to the intersection of two roads he’d never before traveled. He spotted beat up, weathered, barely
readable “For Sale” signs on opposite corners of the intersection. In his imagination, he saw the rainbow ending
right over that junction. He even
thought he heard harp music. EZ knew
these places were meant for him. The
junction already had his name on it: County Road E and County Road ZZ –E-Zs.
EZ got the places for about the price of a new car. Both needed paint, so EZ just had ‘em
re-sided in vinyl instead. The place
that became The Bumpy Log had to be re-roofed after replacing a few boards.
It turned out EZ got more from the deal than he
expected. He thought he was buying just
the two corner lots, but they happened to be part of a 160 acre farmstead
within which laid his intersection. He
owned all four corners and down the road a bit all four directions.
Ezekiel set to work clearing brush to make his new buildings
more visible and in doing so, uncovered old signs at three of the four
approaches which read, “Nowhere.”
“Oh great!” he thought, “I bought business property, but in
the middle of Nowhere.” So he set out to
discover that story.
Long ago, while the settlers were still picking out plots of
land, a largish family came through the area.
One of the dads finally got fed up with the kids’ fussing, “Are we there
yet?” He stopped the wagons and yelled, red-faced and spitting out the very
deliberate words, “NO! WE ARE NEVER
THERE! WE WILL NEVER BE THERE! WE ARE ALWAYS HERE! WE WILL ALWAYS BE HERE! NOW, HERE!
NOW, HERE!” And Dad muttered
loudly as he yanked a top sideboard off a wagon and scrawled a sign saying,
“NOWHERE” and drove it into the ground.
The kids and the rest of the people stared in silence. The dog wasn’t even sure how to respond.
Of course, we know original records to places in Donowutt
County got lost in Quantrill’s courthouse fire, so we really don’t know how
true all this is.
The woman who previously owned EZ’s new property died and
willed it to her nephew in Kansas City.
He found ownership irritating so he jumped on the $30,000 Ezekiel
offered in jest, rather than keep “those two run-down buildings in the middle
of nowhere” insured, mowed and taxes paid.
It was a burden off the nephew and a dream come true for
Ezekiel. The store boasted a wide roofed
porch on both road-facing sides and an old general store inside. There was even a small apartment
upstairs. EZ moved in there from Holden,
after a couple years’ work on the junction of E and ZZ. The two places became EZ’s Treasure Shop and
The Bumpy Log Social Club.
“Here’s the kitchen,” said Lena, “and make yourself at
home. Snoop around, and let’s get that
fish cooked.”
Redtail asked, “You got the key from the Treasure Shop? How’s that?
Do you, like, work here nights?”
Lena said, “No, whichever of us locals gets here first can
open up, if EZ knows us. He keeps the
key there, for just a little bit more security than leaving the place
unlocked. I better run the key back
–unless you’d like to, and introduce yourself to EZ. ”
Redtail said, “I’ll let you, so I don’t surprise him too
much. And is EZ related to Ted at
church?”
“EZ’s Ted’s brother.
Also, if you want,” said Lena, “While I’m gone, could you set bags of
chips and jars of nuts out on about half the tables? We’ll let the guests open them as needed.”
“That sounds great, and I’ll watch the cooking fish,” said
Redtail.
Lena took the key back to the Treasure Shop and returned in
a couple minutes with EZ in tow.
EZ spoke first.
“Howdy Redtail! And welcome to
Nowhere, The Bumpy Log and to Donowutt County.”
Redtail had just put the fish in the oven, so she grabbed a
rag, wiped her hands and extended one for a handshake. “Thank you for the warm welcome. You’re not so shy as I was expecting.”
EZ laughed. “Oh, no,
I wouldn’t call myself shy. I like people,
but I also like staying busy with stuff, so I don’t really come across as a
gregarious beer-commercial partier. I
sometimes get wrapped up in what I’m doing and seen as shy.”
Lena flopped her arm over EZ’s shoulders and said, “Yeah,
EZ’s got his moments. We all love him.”
“I better head on back to the Shop,” said EZ. “I’ll be back after I close up.”
EZ departed and Lena took out her phone to check the
time. “It’s only 4:30, so it’ll still be
a while before anyone else shows up.”
Lena started cutting the bars she brought and the door
opened. Redtail and Lena exchanged
surprised glances as a young man who looked to be in his late teens came
in. He was wearing black new-looking,
but dirty clothes, a grungy black backpack and he reeked of after shave.
Redtail looked at Lena and said, “I’ll get this.” She walked over to the Log’s third guest and
asked, “Excuse me, sir. Do you know the
secret password?”
He gave Redtail a scowl and asked, “Whaddo I need a password
for?”
He started to walk in farther and Redtail matter-of-factly
stepped in his path and sighed. “That’s
not what I asked.”
“I don’t know no stupid password. Is this place open yet?”
“OK, that’s better.”
Redtail turned to Lena and said, “He’s cool. The password’s still secret.”
“You’re weird.” He
walked to a couch along a wall and flopped his backpack on it, claiming his
territory.
Redtail found a stack of whipped topping and margarine bowls
in a cabinet. “Do we put these out?” she
asked Lena.
Lena was starting to put on coffee. She answered, “Yeah, but check ‘em for
clean.”
The scented guy walked around nervously checking things
out. He spotted the plates of Lena’s
bars and asked, “How much?”
Lena swished her hand and said, “Go ahead.”
He took a bowl, and two each of the bars. He slowly looked around and made eye contact
with Redtail again. She asked, “Want
some fish when it comes out of the oven?”
He glanced around with a sneer, asking in body-language,
“You talkin’ to me?” He then said aloud,
“Does it cost anything?”
Redtail sat down at a table, shook her head and said,
“That’s the second time I asked you a question and you replied without
answering.” She pulled out the chair
next to her and patted the seat. The boy
looked even more nervous but he cautiously sat down. Redtail saw a pretty thick wall of
defensiveness on him, but she was determined not to let that deter her from
being social.
“This your first time here?”
“Uh… Yeah.”
“Mine too. It seems
to me you’re trying to project an aloof, don’t-mess-with-me image, so I’ll
apologize in advance if my attitudes clash with yours. To answer your question, Yes. The fish cost something.”
He fidgeted a little and Redtail continued. “It cost me time
collecting bait and catching the fish.
It cost Lena, over there, time cleaning them. It’ll cost me a little more time re-honing
and cleaning the knife, and it cost the time, gas and clean-up to cook and
serve it here. That answers your question,
but probably not what you were asking.”
By now, Lena had sat down in the background to watch.
Redtail continued, and still sounded quite cheerful, without
tones of lecture. “I just thought since
I had plenty, that I’d like to share it with you and Lena. Your only cost would be to say, ‘Yes please,’
or ‘No thank you.’”
There was a couple seconds of silence. Then the boy softly
said, “Yes please?”
Redtail happily chirped, “Oh good! And it’s probably just about ready.” She hopped up and skipped to the kitchen.
Redtail brought the baking pan, paper plates and plastic forks
and put them all on the table where she and Mr. Aftershave had their short
discussion.
“I usually cook these with skins and bones, so I don’t lose
any meat. Baking in a real oven is even
better, ‘cuz none falls in the fire.” said Redtail.
Lena sat down next to Mr. Aftershave and Redtail sat on his
other side. Redtail said, “By the way,
I’m Redtail.”
Lena added, “And I’m Lena,” as she extended a hand to Mr.
Aftershave.
Redtail said, after a slight pause, “And you are?”
Mr. Aftershave shook hands with Lena and said, softly, “My
friends call me AJ.”
Lena said, “Cool, Redtail!
He didn’t give us an option.
Looks like we’re friends. AJ it
is.”
Redtail started, “Lord, we’re often quick to count our
hardships and too slow to see how wonderfully You provide for us. Thank You for being You and for sending Your
son. Thank you also for your wonderful
provision. And it’s only in Jesus’ name
I can talk to You, Amen.”
Redtail looked up and Lena was smiling. AJ looked puzzled, then asked, with an almost
superior sneer, “If God’s supposed to love us so much and provide for us, how
come there’s so much starvation in the world?”
He followed with a look that said, ‘Ha! There’s a stumper for your
religious crap.’
Lena raised an eyebrow at Redtail.
“Oh, but He does!” replied Redtail with a smile. “And He
provides most-abundantly. We’ve just forgotten how to look. Oh! Do you want a salad with your fish?” Redtail waited a moment and said, “Well, I’m
good to go without.”
She cut the big bass down the along the fins, lifting the
slab of meat with fins, backbone and tail.
Half of the ribcage came out with her slab and she lifted the ribs out
of the remaining slab and set them aside.
Redtail pointed to the half on her plate, saying, “Also be careful of
this little strip of bones running down the thick part. I used to cut that strip out when I’d filet
my fish. Wow, how did I know that? Bits and pieces of my past are slowly, but
surely trickling back.”
Lena said, as she sliced open the other bass, “I wondered
about that.”
AJ asked, “What? Like you got amnesia or something?”
“Probably something,” said Redtail. “My memory only goes back a few weeks. So really, I’ve been living out in the woods
for as long as I can remember.”
Redtail tried to summarize in her mind what she did know
about herself. ‘I think I come from
sandy pinier country, and my voice sounds more southern than lots of the locals
–maybe from Mississippi? I’ve got a
Christian background, and a background that gave me lots of wild edibles and
camping experience. I’m a social person
and seem to love interacting with kids.’
Redtail noticed AJ and Lena staring at her. “Oh, sorry.
I was trying to think of what I actually know about myself.”
AJ asked, “You live in the woods? Are you a drifter, too?”
“I live on Grandpa George’s place,” said Redtail.
“Oh, so you’re living with family,” concluded AJ.
“Not really,” said Redtail.
“He informally adopted me as his granddaughter. He made up an ID for me, in case nothing else
comes up and he gave me permission to stay at his place as long as I need to.”
AJ scanned Redtail up and down quick and gave a cynical
smile. “Yeah, I’ll bet so.” He followed the comment with a short sneering
laugh.
Redtail pretended to be oblivious to his implication, but
Lena jumped to their defense. “Wipe that
thought outta your head. I’ve known
George for many years and Redtail for almost, well, as long as she can
remember.”
AJ interrupted, “Right.
Right. Like what gives your
opinion any clout?”
Lena asked, “How long have you been in Donowutt County?”
AJ sneered, “A whole lot longer than Redtail.”
Lena said, “George’s best lady friend is a county police
dispatcher. My husband is on law
enforcement, and I, have been on the sheriff’s Posse for over 10 years. We’ll even ask Judge Noyugo if he trusts my
opinions when he comes in, let’s see,” she looked at the wall clock, “in about
45 minutes.”
AJ just about choked on his bite of fish, and with an almost
scolded puppy attitude, softly said, “OK, I believe ya. I’ll probably be gone before the judge gets
here anyway. I gotta be someplace.”
Redtail looked at Lena and Lena smiled back. She also noticed AJ’s plate was almost
clean. Redtail shrugged and asked him,
“Want some more? Some people like the sunfish better.”
He said, quietly, “Nah. No thank you. I’m good.”
He finished, glanced back and forth and said, “Thank you. That was good, but I gotta be movin’
on.” He still tried to sound
in-control-casual, but he’d lost most of his composure. With a bit more urgency in his movements, he
headed to the couch, threw his pack on his arm and said softly over his
shoulder, “Be cool.” He slipped quietly
out.
Redtail shook her head and said to Lena, “Wow, something you
said got him all discombobulated. He
didn’t flinch about Sarah or Frank, but something you said about you and the
Posse put him on edge.”
“Donowutt County’s whole organization is kinda odd, with us
being lost, but, our law enforcement community, and it really is a community,
is truly unique,” began Lena.
“But ‘Posse’ sounds so wild west,” said Redtail.
“Yeah, but what comes to mind when you think, ‘posse’?”
asked Lena.
“Oh, I suppose Black Bart just shot Jeb in cold blood and
rode outta town laughing maniacally with Jeb’s girlfriend tied up and
screaming. The fine upstanding townsfolk
amass a makeshift army to bring Bart to justice: The Posse.”
“That’s a fair start, but imagine the makeshift army of
do-gooders with today’s technology, and organized. The Posse isn’t just town by town, but one
big county-wide disciplined unit who knows it’s always on standby. This Posse communicates with smart phones,
Internet, HAM radio, landlines and all the county’s law enforcement knows they
can be relied on for dedicated help.
That’s sort of what the Posse is here in Donowutt County. The drifter/panhandler/opportunist element
hears about us pretty quickly.”
Redtail said, “Wow, that sounds almost like a
government-sanctioned militia –an armed volunteer fire department.”
“We’re not so much volunteers as we get volunteered. Sheriff and police departments do the
inviting and recruiting. The presiding
judge approves or disapproves the recommendations and approvals can accept or
decline, knowing it’s an important obligation.
AJ’s been here long enough to know he didn’t want his behavior to get on
Posse radar. He knew he’d be watched
wherever he went.”
Lena continued, “Our job is to serve and protect, like our
law enforcement, but a cool thing is sheriff, police and judicial aren’t in our
chain of command so we don’t get coerced into politics. Donowutt County Law Enforcement only serves
as part of Posse communications. Of
course, most of our missions do originate from their offices.”
Redtail said, “But it seems odd you invoked the Posse over
AJ’s smarminess.”
Lena smiled, “Aren’t reputations worthy of protection? Just doin’ my job.”
The gravel crunched in the parking lot and both girls looked
at the door.
Two guys and a girl, all in their mid-30s walked in. One guy said, “Hey Lena, the password’s still
secret.” All three filed into the
kitchen with big drinking mugs.
Lena told Redtail, “They’re after the special spigot: ice-cold
spring water after a day of tree-trimming and mulching.”
The bigger of the two guys came out telling Lena and
Redtail, “Jo was quite the basket case today.”
Jo was just behind him.
She took off her bandana and shook her hair loose. “I love it when we
get the cherry picker and I get to work from the basket.”
The three sat at the table next to Lena’s and
Redtail’s. They breathed with long,
leisurely breaths and sipped their cold water.
Redtail said, “I gotta try that water spigot! If it’s half as good as they make it look, I
could almost move my camp, but I like George’s place.”
Lena and Redtail got up and Lena showed Redtail to the
fountain of liquid joy. Redtail filled a
glass with the spring water and took a big sip.
She said, “This is good stuff and will likely be my drink of choice when
I’m here, but, I probably won’t move my camp..”
Redtail went back to the lounge and approached the table of
the Lumberjacks, as she wanted to think of Jo and her entourage. One of the guys eye-contacted Redtail with a
“May I help you?” look.
Redtail said, “This is my first evening at the Bumpy Log and
seein’s it’s a Social Club, I hope I’m not outta line trying to be social. I’m Redtail, and,” looking to Jo, “I caught
that you’re Jo.”
The smaller of the two men stood up and pulled out a chair
for Redtail, saying, “I’m Bob and this is, well, also Bob. Welcome to our table.”
Redtail smiled and said, “Hello Bob, Also Bob and Jo.”
Jo said, “I hope you don’t mind dirt and wood chips.”
“Oh, not me,” said Redtail.
“I live in it.”
Also Bob said, “I heard about some girl who just showed up
in the woods out near Thistle Dew on the Peterson place. Is that you?”
Bob gave Also Bob a quick look, thinking that was a rather
bold first question for someone.
Jo gave surprised glances between all three. Lena, who was putting out napkins, laughed
quietly.
Redtail said, “Word gets around fast. Yeah, I think that’d be me in George
Peterson’s woods.”
Also Bob’s mouth dropped, “I didn’t… Wow, what are the odds. I didn’t think you looked near… near…
what? Hermitty? Homelessy? enough. No, that’s not… I just better quit.” Embarrassed, Also Bob put his head down on
the table while the rest laughed.
Redtail startled Also Bob a bit with a pat on the back,
saying, “There, there, that’s OK. I
don’t think I’ve been at this long enough to know what I’m supposed to look
like either.”
Jo asked, with obvious interest, “I heard she… I mean, you
lost your memory.”
Bob said, “You’ve already become legendary.”
Redtail said, “My memory only goes back a couple weeks. I don’t remember who I was, or where I’m from
or what my day-to-day activities were, but I do remember a few things. I can talk, fish, hunt and trap. I can forage wild edibles safely, or at least
I hope so. But I don’t remember if I
learned that through family or 4-H or Girl Scouts or even if I’m self-taught. I don’t seem to have any ‘I wonder if I can
eat this?’ thoughts. I just seem to
know. I also know I love Jesus and was a
regular church-goer, but I couldn’t say what church.”
Bob muttered, “Oh jeez..” but was cut short by a glare from
Jo.
“Oh, don’t worry, Bob,” said Redtail. “I won’t rub your face in the evidence.”
Also Bob said, “Yeah, Bob’s got some doubts about the whole
God-thing.”
“I was just saying, before we walked in here,” said Bob, “It
seems everywhere I turn lately, I run into this Jesus thing.” He shook his head and smiled.
Lena said, from the kitchen, “Maybe He’s trying to get your
attention.”
The rumble outside got louder and louder and the gravel in
the lot made lots of grinding crunchy noise.
The rumble stopped.
Redtail glanced around, “That sounded like a tank.”
Lena said, “Probably a big tractor. Sometimes farmers and tree service folks drop
by for a cold drink and a breather before heading home. It’s pretty quiet here, but Nowhere is one of
the few area crossroads.”
The door opened and a figure nearly blocked all the light
from entering. Lena called to the man as
he squinted his eyes and smacked his DeKalb cap on his leg, “Secret password?”
“I don’t know no secret password,” called the man, “’sides,
if I told you, it wouldn’t be secret no more.”
He poked his cap visor behind him in his belt. “I heard through the grapevine a guy could
get a cold glass of water here.”
“Grapevine, eh? snorted Also Bob. He looked at Redtail and said, “Don’t mind
Hank. He talks to plants all the time
–Farmer, ya know.”
Jo said, “Don’t be too critical. I’ve heard you mutter at brush quite a few times.”
Lena, who’d since gone back to the kitchen, returned with
two pitchers of spring water and two plastic drinking glasses. She said, “Myfinkeye moshiddown fo wyo.” She set one pitcher at the Lumberjack Table
and the other at her original place. She
took the glass out of her mouth and repeated as she poured both glasses with
water, “I think I’m gonna sit down for a while.
Here ya go, Hank.” She handed him
the hand-carried glass and he joined her at her table.
Summing up the next almost-hour, Redtail and the Lumberjacks
talked of tree trimming and primitive hunting while Hank and Lena talked about
Frank and joy-riders on ZZ. Redtail then
got a tour of Hank’s tractor and the Lumberjacks headed home. When Hank and Redtail got back from the tour,
Lena was wiping down the Lumberjack table.
Redtail joined Lena and Hank’s table and they small-talked another half
hour or so.
The door opened and a guy to rival Hank’s size stepped in
and bellowed with an imposing, authoritative bass voice, “Has the password
remained secret?”
Redtail bellowed back, as best she could, “I don’t know who
you are, but if we knew the password and it was supposed to be secret, then
that wouldn’t be it.”
The man stood silent a second or two. Then he asked, “To whom might this new voice
to The Bumpy Log Social Club belong?”
The new Bumpy Log patron seemed to carry an air of nobility,
so Redtail stood up and said, “RT Scot at your service. And if you should also feel so inclined, know
that my friends call me Redtail.”
The man took her hand gently and said, “Redtail it shall
be.” He released her hand and
laughed. “I answer to quite a bit:
Judge, Hugh, Hugo, Judge Noyugo. Most
people around here call me Judge. Hmm,
Redtail. Rumor precedes you. Your name came up at a meeting last week.
(story continues here: http://ognyen.blogspot.com/2018/03/rt-mac-story-chaps-26-current.html )
