Three
'You're Getting Old'
Forty-One. You're getting old, Keith, I grumbled as I lathered my chin. The whiskers would be back later that afternoon, but what the hey? Shaving relaxed m-- "Ouch!" I grit my teeth and briskly exhaled. Except for when I try to take my fool head off. Man! I'd have a nasty 'alcohol burn' now. Lord, I prayed as I set my jaw, this day better get easier.
My morning devotional hike onto the other side of my hillside would give the Lord a chance to work through my frustrations. And what are your frustrations, Keith? My job. My agent had botched the meeting with a prospective client and sent my hopes for a second publication of my photographs down the sewer pipe. Of all the stupid, low down-- I nicked myself again and barely restrained an expletive.
I sighed, long and deep.
I finished my shave, suffered through the application of my after-shave, and dried my hands. Why I had woken in such a fowl mood, I had no idea. I just prayed that the long hike would help God and me figure out the solution to the problem. Smirking, I slipped into a heavy T-shirt, chose a thick wool shirt, and tucked them into my loose fitting blue jeans. God already knew what my many problems were; He just hadn't broken them to my egotistical self. Maybe that wasn't such a bad thing.
Keith, just take your walk!
I looped a couple camera's around my neck, strapped on my pack, took hold of my walking stick and 30-30 hunting rifle after slipping on my leather gloves, and called my young black Labrador to my side. Calm as ever, Shade nearly whipped my legs out from under me with that bionic tale of his. I shook my head with a reluctant smile and shut the door after me, whistling some old tune from my childhood as I tried to keep Shade in sight.
"Shade! Heel!"
He stopped his chasing of the furry, woodland creatures and bounded over to my side. With his tongue hanging out of the side of his mouth, he jumped around me, his way of protesting my lack of response to his desires. To put it simply, he wanted to fetch, or chase, or run, and I wasn't giving him that chance.
"You'll live," I told him.
I stopped at the crest of one of the many ridges and brought one of my cameras up. Panning slowly in order to catch what I hoped would be a prize-winning shot, I glimpsed a thin trail of smoke rising from a slightly hidden house. What's this? I focused in closer and smiled. Well, well, well. A fellow adventurer.
"What do you think," I asked Shade as he patiently sat beside me. "Shall we visit?"
Shade only tilted his head at me, as usual. He never wanted to be held responsible for a wrong decision. I shook my head and started down the trail, making my way to the cabin.
When I got there, I hesitated several minutes on the outer edge of the clearing. I couldn't tell if anyone was home or not, and I wasn't so sure that they would be as eager to see me as I would be to meet them. I crossed my arms and stared at the cabin a few more moments before retrieving my walking stick from where I had leaned it against a nearby tree. With a final adjustment to the rifle slung from my shoulder, I stepped forward.
"Shade! Come," I ordered briskly.
The two of us made our way to the cabin's front steps. I directed Shade to stay on the front porch, and I rapped on the door. No answer. Shade and I exchanged glances, and I knocked again. Still no answer. Shade stretched and slumped down at the head of the stairs as I cautiously opened the door. No lights. With an uncertain clearing of my throat, I stepped into the living room. At any moment, I expected to be leaped on by a vicious attack gerbil... or the owner of the cabin themselves. The only thing that bombarded me was silence, so I closed the door behind me and decided to have a look around.
The first fact I noticed was that the cabin was almost exactly like my own. The only difference being our kitchens were on opposite sides of the room. To tell the truth, it was a little 'Twilight Zone'ish. I chuckled and absently stoked up the fire in the enclosed fireplace. Like my own cabin, this person cooked their food on the large, metal contraption instead of an electric or gas stove. I grinned. At least the person wasn't a citified pantywaist that had decided to 'commune' with nature, while still paying a bundle for electricity.
I wandered to a wall on the opposite side of the room and read through the dozens of titles of books this stranger read. I pulled a couple out, read the plot descriptions on the back, and slipped them back into place. Well, Keith, your fellow adventurer is a woman. And, by the look of this wall, she reads a lot more than you ever did. I rubbed my chin and pulled another book out. After all, Keith, you were too busy getting into trouble to read. I put the book back and made my way out of the house.
"Come, Shade," I ordered.
A few hours later I once again found myself at the lady's doorstep. I smelled bad, and any novice Boy Scout could tell I'd had a successful hunting trip just by the way my clothes looked. Did I dare go in again? Shade looked up at me, patiently waiting for me to make up my mind. Only problem was I didn't know if she'd care if a stranger used her shower. She wasn't there, that I knew already, but still. Women could be sensitive about things like that, right? Shade yawned, his own type of reminder for me to hurry up, and I made my way to the front porch.
Shade made himself comfortable outside the door as I stepped into the house, a feeling of guilt making me swallow hard. I found the bathroom and decided to take the extra time and hassle to use the bathtub instead of the shower. So, I found a few pots in the kitchen, filled them with the hand pump, and set them on top of the fireplace. I stoked up the fire, added a few more logs to it, and decided to find the wood shed so I could refill the wood box.
When I came back from the shed with my arms filled with wood, I noticed the water steamed nicely. Stacking the wood in the appropriate box, I hauled the water to the tub, cooled it with a few pots of water from the hand pump, and climbed in.
It felt great!
When I had decided that my resemblance to a prune was close enough, I toweled myself off and ruled against using the bath water to wash my clothes. It would have taken too long to dry them and I already felt bad enough. So, I emptied the water after dressing myself, checked the fire, and then stood in the center of the room. Keith, you've done a good job making it look like you haven't been here, but come on. Leave a note, or something!
I noticed an old manual typewriter and decided to borrow one of the lady's many pieces of paper. I quickly wrote out a few lines, and then paused. I had to leave something for her. Digging into my pack, I pulled out some of the wrapped venison and placed it in her freezer. Going back to the note, I added a couple more lines and signed it. Slipping into my gear once more, I left the note on her door and headed home, Shade bounding around me as usual.
Was I seriously going to try and meet her one day? I rubbed at the back of my neck, thinking back to the many reasons why I had sought seclusion. Taking up photography had been the next step in my healing process. God had used the camera to point out to me the beauty of His creation and, therefore, the beauty in me.
At first, I hadn't wanted to listen.
Memories of my past life had caused me to disbelieve my own worth. I mean, I had used anything and anyone within my grasp to further myself. In my mind, I had become a monster. Where was the beauty in that? But God would patiently replace the puzzle pieces, showing my heart how He'd reworked my soul. Convincing my mind how my heart had been renewed.
But my mind had always been the most determined. That was why my past was always remembered. My own, private torture chamber.
I stopped in my tracks and gripped my walking stick. Shade plopped down beside me. Why did I enjoy torturing myself with visions from the darkest time of my life?
There was a fluttering out of the trees as birds took flight. Without thinking, I raised the gun, sighted the target, and gently squeezed the trigger. The target fell and Shade took off to fetch it. Keith, why can't you shoot your past down so easily? Why do you let it follow you? But I didn't know. Just like I didn't know if I really wanted to meet the female fellow adventurer. There were things about me that people often didn't understand. Or else, didn't want to take the time.
Shade returned with the kill, and I grimaced as my stomach turned. I had blown it's head clean off. Don't ask me how because I wouldn't be able to tell you.
"Shade, enjoy," I told him with a clearing of my throat.
I sat at the nearest tree, pressing my back up against the trunk as he watched, and hid my face in my hands. Shade stared at me a few more moments, and then began to enjoy his lunch. Me? I just sat there silently, my fingers dug into my hair as I tried to push all the memories out of my head. It never worked.
"God, what do I do?"
I had asked the question so many times it had become routine. The problem being, I never heard the answer. You know those people that claim they can hear God speaking to them as if He's in the next room? Well, those people always irritated me because His voice was never like that for me. Although I could be just too dense to hear it, which was probably the case. To be truthful, I probably wouldn't know God spoke to me unless He hit me upside the head with the Good Book and ordered me to 'pay attention'.
I stood with a shake of my head and gathered all my gear, heading for home once more.
"Come, Shade."
He licked his chops a few times, and then trotted up to walk beside me. There had to be something I was missing. Some little trick that I needed to do in order to get past all the memories. Why can't I let go? I clenched my jaw, my mind straying to something once said. 'Keith, if you remember every little thing that has ever been done to you, you'll die before you can enjoy your life.' I scowled.
It continued to be a constant fight. A continuous struggle between what I wanted and what God knew was best. Most of the time I didn't even realize the battle raged. It wasn't until I actually thought about where my life was that I saw it, and then I was at a loss as to how to put everything right. That and I'm always confused as to why I kept that part of myself hidden from God.
Hidden from God. Yeah. I wish.
A bit of wood caught my eye, so I picked it up. Shade stood at attention directly in front of me, semi-patiently waiting for me to toss the stick away. My fingers wrapped around the wood a little tighter as I gazed down at it, my eyes narrowing. There was something there. I turned it over in my hands, gauging the weight and thickness, and shifted my feet. I could see it. I could plainly see a figure of a wolf hiding in the wood, patiently waiting to be released to bay at the moon.
A smile eased my scowl and I started for home once more. Shade pouted the rest of the way home, upset because I hadn't thrown the stick like he'd thought, but once we got home he decided to let bygones be bygones. Especially since, if he hadn't, he wouldn't have gotten any dinner. I shook my head with a chuckle after setting down his bowl of food, made my way to the bedroom so I could change out of the hunting stained clothes, and promptly remembered I hadn't put the deer in the freezer yet. I clenched my jaw, tossed the dirty clothes in a rumpled pile on the bed, and strode to the kitchen to unpack the venison.
"Keith, you're losing it," I muttered.
But my mind stayed on the lady adventurer, much to my surprise. How long had she been up here? It couldn't have been long because wouldn't I have seen her cabin before? I had walked that particular trail at least one other time that I could recall, so it would have been hard to miss. No, almost impossible. I closed the freezer and made my way to the fire stove. I opened the door stoked the coals, and placed a few small pieces of wood in strategic positions. Staring at the coals, I leaned against the poker with a slight scowl.
Keith Tyler, the last time you were up that direction you'd only been up here 6 months. You wouldn't have been able to tell a cabin from a tree trunk. I shook my head with a laugh. Jumping at every sound and movement, it had been about the worst experience in my life. I hadn't set a foot out of the cabin after dark for months after that, and then only because I had mastered shooting at paper targets.
I added a few larger pieces of wood to the fire, made sure I hadn't choked it, and then closed the door with a deep breath. Five years was how long I had been hiding up here and tomorrow was the anniversary of.... I released a deep breath and set the poker aside, staring into the fire for a few moments before looking to the album on the coffee table. I know I've asked this before but... why did that happen again? To build character? To open my eyes to You?
I looked away and cleared my throat, then I rubbed a hand through my hair and closed my eyes against the memories.
"Shade!" I snapped my fingers several times until he finally shuffled sleepily out of my bedroom. "Come on!"
He looked up at me with his dark, tired eyes as if to say, 'Are you nuts? I'm still sleepy.' I rubbed behind his ears and patted my pocket to make sure the Gerber was there. It wasn't yet dawn, but I was determined to make it to the mysterious lady adventurer's cabin by breakfast. Besides the fact that I didn't really want to be alone on this particular day, I wanted to make sure she hadn't minded my using her tub. Sure, I was also curious about the kind of woman that would live out in these hills by herself.
"How can you be so sure she's by herself? You didn't exactly look, you know."
I shrugged it off and started for her cabin with Shade following reluctantly behind me. He never had been much of a morning dog. Shade sneezed and then yawned as he stepped beside me, reminding me that he'd wanted to sleep in. I chuckled, bent to pick up another would-be carving, and took the knife out of my pocket. This one would be a rabbit sitting up on its haunches. Shade gave the wooden piece a long look, then pointedly turned his head the opposite direction.
His way of saying he was mad.
I came upon another few pieces of wood and slipped my pack from my shoulders. I tucked them inside and then slung it back into position, starting again on the current carving project. My mind stayed oddly quiet, and it had begun to bother me. Usually on this day of my life, I was angry and short-tempered. As for taking walks this early in the morning: out of the question.
My normal routine for the past five years had been to sleep in late, throw my slippers across the room when I did drag myself out of bed, and devour about two pots of extra strong coffee. Then I would go out hunting, only to come back with a bruised ego because the deer had proved to be smarter than me.
A chuckle made Shade glance up at me, temporarily forgetting that he'd been ignoring me, and I patted his side. Deciding that it was likely more fun to play than to hold a grudge, Shade bounded into the brush to return a few moments later. He dropped a large piece of wood onto the ground in front of me.
I stared at the piece, absently stroking behind Shade's ears as I did so. Hm. A doe. That will be a nice one. I slipped my pack off my shoulders again and carefully tucked the unfinished rabbit into it, as well as a few untouched segments of wood. Lord, sandpaper would be great.
The work on the doe went faster than I thought possible. The next thing I knew, I stood on the porch of the lady adventurer's house with the doe practically done. I cleared my throat, wished I didn't look so much like Grizzly Adams, and knocked as firmly as I could. No answer, and I could just hear Shade thinking 'I told you so' as he sighed. He lay down without being told and I opened the door. I glanced around the room and scowled. Something was different. I rubbed my scalp and crossed my arms as my fingers absently stroked the doe carving. With a look over at the kitchen counter, my face broke out into a smile.
She'd left before unpacking her supplies. That's where she'd been all day. She'd gone shopping. Probably picked up her mail and who knew what else.
I took it upon myself to finish the boring job for her. I opened all the cupboards, took stock of where all the different type of items were filed, and started the task. It wasn't so bad, either. I did notice that she still had all the venison in the freezer, so I took one package out and tucked it in a visual place in the refrigerator. I thought about planning a meal and cooking it for her, but I was still a stranger. She might feel violated if I dug around in her kitchen much more than I had already.
I folded up the paper bags, filed them under the kitchen sink, and then went to admire her wall of books again. I read a few of the synopses and then stared down at one held in my hand. Would she mind? I rubbed my scalp, and then stuffed the book into one of the large pockets of my oversized suede jacket. I'd leave a note again, but I really didn't think she'd mind. After all, what good was a book if a person couldn't share it with someone?
"I wonder if she has s-sandpaper?"
I cleared my throat at the sudden stutter and opened and closed several drawers in her kitchen. Surprisingly, I found an entire sheet of unused sandpaper that looked as if it would be just the right grit. I pulled a sheet of writing paper from the sheaf on her desk and wrote out another note. I was about to tack it on the door when I realized I hadn't let her know I had borrowed a book. I hurried into the house with the paper, added the 'post-script', and then tacked it on the door with a small smile. There.
Shade stared up at me expectantly. I pointed at the forest. "If you're so hungry, catch s-something."
He tilted his head at me, and I cleared my throat again. "What?"
Shade shook his head and then loped off to disappear into the forest.
I hadn't stuttered since high school. I pulled the doe carving from the other pocket of my jacket and sat on the top step. I had never bothered to find out why I had a stutter, all I'd known was that it had made me different. Never a good thing. Teasing. Fights... all because of my stutter.
I took the sandpaper out of my pocket and rubbed the doe carving with gentle strokes. A few more silent minutes passed before Shade trotted up to tell me it was time to go. I stood and headed back the way we'd come. Do I still want to meet the lady adventurer now? What if I stutter? Writing little notes was one thing, but talking like a scared little man.... Humiliation, complete.
I released a deep breath as I gazed down at the smoothed doe figurine.
Well what am I so worried about in the first place? You're not exactly planning on... something... more? I went to run a hand through my hair and nearly put an eye out with the doe carving. I grimaced and threw my hands up in the air. Keith, you're crazy! You don't know anything about her! For all you know, she could be up here hiding from the law because she murders well-meaning men.
Not only an absurd, but highly unlikely.
The simple confession of my rising interest just reminded me I hadn't dated in fifteen years. My people skills were way out of practice - if I'd ever had them in the first place - and I was old! I kicked a dirt clod with a violent growl, and Shade gave a start. Then he looked as if he demanded an explanation. I just ignored him and continued on my way home. My fingers reminded me about the sandpaper, as well as the carving, and I clenched my jaw. I wouldn't know the first thing about talking to a woman. And look what happened before.
I got to my cabin several minutes later, my hand absently rubbing the sandpaper gently over the doe carving. I stared down at the doe for a little while and then shook my head and set it on the railing of my front porch. I leaned against one of the braces for the roof of the porch and stuck my hands in the pockets of my jacket.
"What's this?"
The book I had borrowed. I stared down at the front cover. Alice Kreyssler. Hmm. Never heard of her. Then again, I had never done much romance reading. I think the only reason I had borrowed the book was because it was hers. Attribute it to instinct. How better to find out about a person than by the books they read? It said a lot about their character, as well as their personal feelings on life in general.
I opened the book and read the first few paragraphs. I raised eyebrow and made my way inside, still reading as I went.
That afternoon, I found myself back at her cabin with the book in one hand and the doe carving in the other. I wanted to talk to her about it. The Myth of Reality had... had come so close to explaining how I felt. Intrigued by a stranger, yet fearing to let her close because of his painful past. How could this writer have known me?
I clenched my jaw and stepped for the cabin, pausing at the front step when I heard the sound of chopping wood. I smiled and slipped the book into my pocket as I went around back to the wood shed. I rubbed my jaw when I heard voices and held back a moment, then I stepped closer.
"No," came a voice.
I watched the way she handled the maul and raised my eyebrow when the wood split easily. She wasn't a very big girl, in fact, she probably barely came to above my shoulder and I was only 5 foot 11, but she could definitely swing a maul.
"Allison, don't lie," she said.
I muffled the chuckle with a hand to my mouth. So, she is by herself. This time she missed the wood and put the maul deep into the large stump section that she'd balanced the wood piece on. I was about to step forward to help her when she pulled it free.
"I'm not," she argued with herself.
I smiled and crossed my arms as I silently watched her discussion.
"Really," she insisted.
When she set the maul down and started loading up the wood cart, I high-tailed it back around to the front of the house and debated what to do. Just moments ago I'd wanted to talk to her. To meet her. Now I was having second thoughts. Why?
Sounds of activity came from inside and I turned, ready to start for home. But something held me back. Shade waited patiently at my side as I heard silence fall around the cabin and the chopping began once more. I gazed down at the doe, and then quietly went inside. First, I made my way to her wall of books and chose another. Second, I found a teapot in the kitchen and filled it with water from the hand pump. Then, after stoking the fire, I placed the teapot on the coolest area of the stove. I didn't want all the water to have boiled away by the time she got back.
Finally, I picked up a piece of writing paper and left another small note. Placing it under the doe figurine, I glanced around the cabin briefly, then left and started home in silence. I could tell Shade was worried about me because he kept nuzzling my hand, but I didn't know what the problem was.
"She's pretty, Shade."
Shade blinked up at me and I shrugged.
"I don't know why I l-left it." I clenched my jaw at the additional stutter and tried to ignore it. "It s-seemed the thing t-to do."
And I had gotten into the habit of following my instincts. But what did my instincts say about this? What hunch did I have about the lady Paul Bunyan? Truthfully, my gut hollered at me to turn around, go back to her cabin, and wait for her to finish. Then introduce myself and offer to make her a pot of coffee at my place. There was no telling it would work, in fact, she'd probably slap my face, but what was the harm in that? I had been slapped before, so I knew how to handle it.
"Shade, what d-do you think?"
He probably thought I was nuts. So did I, but that was beside the point. Being alone had gotten old, to tell the truth, and here was a golden opportunity to do something about it. Yet, here I was, walking home by myself when I'd had the perfect opportunity to introduce myself. Fear was not an option for a journalist. It wasn't even a good excuse for a photographer to have missed the perfect exposure. I couldn't honestly use it now, could I?
Shade growled up at me, and I rubbed his neck.
"I know. I'm a chicken and y-you're hungry."
Maybe I should have let him eat me just to put me out of my misery.