We kind of left Uncle Bob alone in
his stump didn’t we? It’s enough to make a person wonder what he does out there
by himself most of the time, when he isn’t sitting around Ramona’s fire having
some real Firekeeper dinner.
As it happened, the isolation had been a good thing for Bob, who was really no one’s literal uncle.
After that first disaster with his fire, he began to be more careful with fire.
What was actually going on was that he was starting to think about things before he did them. He made a little fire pit a good ten feet from the stump. Smoke didn’t go in his door. His stump didn’t burn down. He saw that this was good.
He also had to learn to be a better hunter. Bob was a slow moving character. It made hunting problematic. He had to think this thing through also. He found that he could sit motionless until some unwary pheasant or turkey wandered within range, and then he would bean said bird with a nice baseball sized rock. His aim gradually improved until he almost always got his bird. His hand/eye coordination improved all the time. He began to be pleased with himself in a nice way.
Naturally, he wanted to begin cooking, since that was the coming thing among Forest People apparently. He had developed a taste for cooked meat and salt. He watched Ramona and tried to reason out a method. His first attempts were rough. He ended up with pieces of bird scorched on the outside, with a few burnt feathers, and raw on the inside. He felt he must do better. So he began looking for a metal thing like a light bar of some kind to thread the meat on. He eventually asked Ralph for help and together they found something. It wasn’t a bar though. It was the grill from the nose of a junker car left rusting at an old farm outside the National Forest. It looked weird, but he was able to put it over his little fire pit in such a way that it worked, with a few stones to support it.
He borrowed a supply of salt from Ramona. He kept it in a clean Dinty Moore stew can.
He started thinking about how his Stump House looked inside. At first he had just slept in a pile of dry grass. But, he began to see it with new eyes. He decided that he could do better. There was room inside for a low cot, up off the ground. So using branches broken to length he made one, tying the corners together with some bits of line Ralph had lying around. He made a platform of springy branch crossed over each other and then added a good thick layer of dry grass. It was much more comfy.
One day Bob looked up from his work at the fire and realized that he was very lonely. He sighed and went back to cooking turkey. Sometimes it was trout. But it was usually turkey.
Bob felt that he was ready for something new.
One later day Bob was sitting silently in the grass with a few rocks at hand waiting for turkeys to wander by when a vision passed before his eyes. She was alone.
“Are you alone?” Bob called out in the old language, formally.
“I am alone,” she said in the old words, formally.
She stopped in her tracks and faced Bob. She was in her middle years, not tall, not even six feet tall, a little chubby, and her color was a nice light brown. She looked wise and kind. Bob was smitten on the spot.
“Will you eat with me?” he asked formally.
“I will eat with you,” she said. Then she sat with him silently while he managed to kill a wandering turkey. It was magical. Like a dream. God must have sent that foolish turkey so near two Forest People. A special blessing.
When they went back to his stump house, she butchered the silly turkey. Bob had a knife he had gotten from Ramona who had two, because Thaga gave her a couple.
This lady tended his fire unasked and cooked his turkey. Just like a dream. Apparently she was from a clan who knew cooked food and salt.
Her name in the old language sounded a little like Suzy, so he called her Suzy. She laughed and thought it was fine. She would be Suzy for Bob.
“Oh, I have so much to show you,” he said. He was thinking of Ralph and the Home Clearing and all he knew there.
“I will stay with you and see it all,” said Suzy and the evening and the morning was the first day of Bob’s new life.
As it happened, the isolation had been a good thing for Bob, who was really no one’s literal uncle.
After that first disaster with his fire, he began to be more careful with fire.
What was actually going on was that he was starting to think about things before he did them. He made a little fire pit a good ten feet from the stump. Smoke didn’t go in his door. His stump didn’t burn down. He saw that this was good.
He also had to learn to be a better hunter. Bob was a slow moving character. It made hunting problematic. He had to think this thing through also. He found that he could sit motionless until some unwary pheasant or turkey wandered within range, and then he would bean said bird with a nice baseball sized rock. His aim gradually improved until he almost always got his bird. His hand/eye coordination improved all the time. He began to be pleased with himself in a nice way.
Naturally, he wanted to begin cooking, since that was the coming thing among Forest People apparently. He had developed a taste for cooked meat and salt. He watched Ramona and tried to reason out a method. His first attempts were rough. He ended up with pieces of bird scorched on the outside, with a few burnt feathers, and raw on the inside. He felt he must do better. So he began looking for a metal thing like a light bar of some kind to thread the meat on. He eventually asked Ralph for help and together they found something. It wasn’t a bar though. It was the grill from the nose of a junker car left rusting at an old farm outside the National Forest. It looked weird, but he was able to put it over his little fire pit in such a way that it worked, with a few stones to support it.
He borrowed a supply of salt from Ramona. He kept it in a clean Dinty Moore stew can.
He started thinking about how his Stump House looked inside. At first he had just slept in a pile of dry grass. But, he began to see it with new eyes. He decided that he could do better. There was room inside for a low cot, up off the ground. So using branches broken to length he made one, tying the corners together with some bits of line Ralph had lying around. He made a platform of springy branch crossed over each other and then added a good thick layer of dry grass. It was much more comfy.
One day Bob looked up from his work at the fire and realized that he was very lonely. He sighed and went back to cooking turkey. Sometimes it was trout. But it was usually turkey.
Bob felt that he was ready for something new.
One later day Bob was sitting silently in the grass with a few rocks at hand waiting for turkeys to wander by when a vision passed before his eyes. She was alone.
“Are you alone?” Bob called out in the old language, formally.
“I am alone,” she said in the old words, formally.
She stopped in her tracks and faced Bob. She was in her middle years, not tall, not even six feet tall, a little chubby, and her color was a nice light brown. She looked wise and kind. Bob was smitten on the spot.
“Will you eat with me?” he asked formally.
“I will eat with you,” she said. Then she sat with him silently while he managed to kill a wandering turkey. It was magical. Like a dream. God must have sent that foolish turkey so near two Forest People. A special blessing.
When they went back to his stump house, she butchered the silly turkey. Bob had a knife he had gotten from Ramona who had two, because Thaga gave her a couple.
This lady tended his fire unasked and cooked his turkey. Just like a dream. Apparently she was from a clan who knew cooked food and salt.
Her name in the old language sounded a little like Suzy, so he called her Suzy. She laughed and thought it was fine. She would be Suzy for Bob.
“Oh, I have so much to show you,” he said. He was thinking of Ralph and the Home Clearing and all he knew there.
“I will stay with you and see it all,” said Suzy and the evening and the morning was the first day of Bob’s new life.
🌸💚🌸
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