by Deb Stratton
I ask Stem if the entire community eats this dried meat. I ask what it is. I spend all of my waking hours wondering about everything. I could explore like he has offered. I may feel better if I was getting some of my energy out.
I really miss sleeping with the sound of a fan and white noise. Something to just take the echo away and silence that makes my ears ring.
He continues to work on his project with extreme contentment. I sit and watch for a few minutes and ask what he is creating. He looks at me with half a smile and then blows into the end with such force that I am sure
the entire thing will fly across the room, but it doesn’t.
It makes a noise, a tune. A strange little tune that makes no sense to me and I am sure at this very moment what to do. While he blows into the ends, I start humming.
I hum a little and he looks out of the corner of his eye while I begin to sing. I sang the first song that came to mind and it was goofy and silly but fun. “Don’t worry, bout a thing...cause every little thing is gonna be alright.” I continued singing and Stem could not get enough of my off note singing. I just kept going until I ran out of words, and even though I had always loved that song, I had just realized I did not know half of the lyrics.
We sat for a good hour or two just blowing on that homemade musical pipe and I kept singing making up words. I was really enjoying it so much that I did not want it to end. But as they say, all good things must come to an end. He lets me know that it is time to eat. I have noticed that there are no real meal times which surprise me due to the size of the warriors that live here. I have strayed from using Bigfoot or Sasquatch due to their own terms that were introduced to me. I know that they do not have even a clue as to how many names humans have come up with to describe the sightings in the woods over the years. I wonder what
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they call us. I may put that on my list of curious questions to ask.
I graciously extend my hand as he stands up to escort me to the common area. I am not as nervous about it as I was the first time. I am hoping the same “people” are there so I can feel at ease and not awkward. We walk together and as we walk I sing a little quietly to make him chuckle. We enter the area grinning at each other, which is fun until I see that female hairy woman staring at me again.
Oh, another question to put on my list. Do I dare ask who she is? Maybe she is just an unhappy mean being. I do not know her name so I quickly decide to call her Hairy Mary. Finding humor in all things is a small gift of mine, it keeps pulling me out of the bad place my thoughts lead me to.
We take a seat by the waterfall that flows into a pond. The pond must be some type of an underground cave. Because of the way it pools there with rock behind it. The area reminds me of a trip to the caverns. It may also explain the difference in temperatures in this area. It feels warmer, maybe from the steaming water. As we sit we are greeted by many and along comes a female human with a couple of sacks. What else should I have expected? In the sacks are dried meat and some type of fungus, not the morel type but similar. I am leaning
towards a firm no on eating this, and tuck it back into my bag. Problem solved no unwashed earthy mushrooms for this girl.
The server says her name is Sara and she smiles and walks away quickly. She has the same ear tags that I was given. Her tag has the number 322. Indicating to me that she has been here a bit longer than me, and according to my figures, she would have been taken more than 100 people ago. That is a lot. I see only a handful of people like me. I must be missing something. She seems ok though. She is perky and kind. She does turn to look at me a few times as if trying to show interest in talking with me. I am hoping for a chance to use the toilet to get some privacy and motion her.
Wondering when I would get a chance to slip away, I thought maybe it is too soon. I have plenty of time to try to talk to Sara and will just sit content with Stem right now. I am waiting for unanswered questions from him and Barka. The answers are not coming quickly and I do not want to keep repeating myself. Behind me, a young hairy child tugs on my hair. I turn to take a glance at him well and he jolts back like I have scared him somehow.
I whisper to him, “I am Em, do you have a name?”
He says in a shy voice, “I am Timber and my sister over
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there, she is Willow.” I smile at him.
He is adorable. He gives me a little pat on the back and runs off. Stem is pleased that the children are accepting me. I know that he is curious about why I have not eaten my mushrooms. I want to show him what the food is like where I am from and am certain that it should have been mentioned previously by someone here.
Surely someone has said before today that this food is primitive and there are other options. He tells me that the meat is from a running whitetail deer. Why running? Is he trying to describe the way that the deer run while he is hunting? Why not make steaks?
“Do you hunt for this up above on your own?” I say.
As I thought again about the meat, “Do you cook this here, or do you have someone else do it?” He smiles and says as his fingers pick at the dried meat, “Come, I will show you.”
He stands from his large stump and again takes my hand to lead me away. We wave to all around us and head down a path that I had not been down. This path reminded me of a tiny area that I had explored in as a child. I reminded myself it was too late to take back the questions that I have asked and hesitate to keep moving forward when the path darkens. He does not seem
worried about the darkness and with a sharp turn to the left we are standing in an open area that is round like a dome.
Off to the distance I see racks of meat, small fires and smoke tunnels that run sideways instead of up. I am sure that now I know what I have been noticing as an aroma in the air. It was dried meat. I have never seen so much of it. The light from the fires were glowing and casting our shadows on the dirt walls. I noticed in the light that he was actually very man like. He had distinct features. Wide set shoulders and long arms.
“If you are interested in tasting them all, I am working in here next week and will bring you with me.”
My heart started pounding with excitement that he was giving me information. This helped me understand more about my new life. He said next week. As Barka, had explained, other humans have helped them learn how to account for days and other modern terms. Although, I believe it really means nothing here. There is no urgency to do anything. Life seems the same every day. They need no extras to enjoy their days.
NO money, sugar, soda or milk. What a plan to live by, the nonplan. Just be here and do what you do.
He turned his head to study the rack of meat on the
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right side. It was ready and nearby was a large pile of sacks of all sizes. “Stem, does everyone eat the meat at all times, and can they have as much as they want?” His brown eyes looked at me directly and said, “Yes, everyone eats the meat and you may have all that you want.”
“I shall take you to see the other areas one day and we shall take the meat with us.” he continued. He holds out his hand with a fresh piece and waits for my approval. It is good. I keep some to put in my pocket and feel better knowing that I will always have something to eat while I am here which according to Barka, is forever.
I know deep down, there is a way out. I know that I can find a way to leave or to get help. I have not thoroughly thought that idea through. I will try to take it all in quietly and bide my time here. I demanded to use the toilet quickly as the changes in diet certainly made the urgency come more quickly.
Across from the domed room there was a small place with a crate and lid which is perfect for sitting. It reminded me of the day I was across from Collin and was tagged. I wonder what happened to him as I had not seen him one time since the meeting. There was NO toilet paper and a bucket of leaves nearby.
I quickly grab a leaf and use it the best way possible to wipe the area without obsessing over the fact that this is how all large cases o
f poison ivy begin. I am trying to understand this way of thinking and so far so good. My mission was complete and I headed back out into the pathway to thank Stem for solving my problem so quickly.
“Stem, I must tell you. I enjoy your company and gift of food and toiletries. I feel guilty in requesting more, but I am hoping there is a way for me to wash my clothing and myself at some point, hopefully without limits.” “Please.” I add. He responds with a smirk, an extended hand and a “fair enough, I will see that you are cared for.” Done.
We walk together back down the pathway, while I hum just a bit. I have always liked doing that and it seemed to make light of the occasion. He seemed to enjoy it as he swung his long arm back and forth a bit to my tune. I have come to realize quickly that the body strength he must have is very intimidating to me. He could forget that I am a scrawny little human and just fling me around accidently.
I will keep that in mind.
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Chapter Six
As another week has gone by much faster than I could have ever imagined, Stem is just walking back and forth and stirring the fire. I have not really determined what the fire is for because it is summer and not very cold. Maybe it helps to keep the dampness from the compressed dirt walls. I sleep in my layers and intend to wear the same clothing that I had on yesterday. I stretch and walk over to the fire pit and warm my meat pieces over the coals. He is watching the smoke roll over the meat and squints as I put it to my mouth. “It is not hot, you should try it.” I tell him.
I breathe in waiting for his response. Instead of actually saying anything he takes some meat from a sack and puts it on the rocks next to the fire. “Em you are a very good thinker.”
I take that as a compliment and we sit down near the fire and eat our blessed meal of, what else, dried running deer meat. It is good and I enjoy it, however I do not enjoy the way that my mouth feels from eating so much of it. The roof of my mouth feels like I have eaten toast over and over. It is rough and I have no way to brush my teeth. There has been no evidence of any type of dental tools. Yet this was another thing to place on the dreaded list. I will bring this up today, because I feel
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like we are off to a good start.
“I am happy that you do not fear Me.” he says. I wait for his next sentence impatiently. “I like having you here and hope that you will continue to be with me.”
At that very moment, I took my hand and touched his and said with my meaty smile, “I am happy that you trust me to be here with you.”
He then stirred the fire coals once more and stood up, grabbed an empty sack and waved for me to follow him. “Today we will work and deliver the meat to others.” He then said something that worried me just a bit, “I will take you and I will guard you.” I tilt my head just a little and wonder why he would feel like he needs to guard me.
From what? I stood up and combed through my hair with my fingers. I was used to preparing for my day with a shower and a ponytail. I decided to ask, “At the end of the day is there a place where I can wash or bathe?”
He offered to show me after we were done with our day of working. I walk beside him and imagine all of the work ahead of us. What could possibly be so hard about what type of work he does during the day? I studied his face as we walked and he has a very distinct look with his facial hair just around his mouth and upper lip. It is much lighter and he had a little more red in this area.
He is kind and gentle with his tour giving on our way back to that room. I recognize the area where the crate is for an emergency. I still have not mentioned the leaf thing. For such organized living and perfect English, I am wondering why the modern day amenities are not in place.
His eyes wandered to the walls of dirt as we walked through them. He ran his hand down the sides like a bored child on Sunday. We came upon another male hairy person when approaching the meat room. He said to hello to him. His name was Tangle. Now finally something that makes sense to me. This middle age Sasquatch had the longest of hair and yes, the most matted almost dreadlock hair that could be found here. The humor in hearing his name and meeting him made me smile. He was kind as well and said that the new fires were started and the meat was ready to harvest. I watched them talk for a few minutes and looked ahead to the glow coming from the large domed room. The conversation ended, and Stem said, “This is Em; she is staying with me and is new.” I smiled much larger and put my hand out, as my arm was reaching out, Stem took his own hand and put it back down. He held onto my hand and nodded his head. We continued on as Tangle left down the pathway towards the common area.
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“You do not want to reach out to others that you do not know; they may take a liking to you and try to obtain your company.” I let him know quickly that I understood and that I appreciated his concern. I am relieved to know that he has no intentions of sharing my company. I feel safe with him and Tangle seems a little barbaric and rough around the edges.
“I will show you all that I do, and then you can join in when you want.” He said.
I watched him for a moment as we stood inside the room grab a stack of the bags. It is very important to gather the dried meat that has cooled and place the correct amount in the bags. There were three sizes. There were one small brown paper bag size, there was one a bit larger and one that reminded me of a paper grocery sack.
“Deer?” This is from the one that runs fast. “I have never eaten deer before or what others call Venison.” I said.
“There are other types of meat. You may find something new after a hunt. We are lucky to have an abundance of this meat.” He said.
I was happy to hear that. I was hoping for a nice lean cow next time and trying not to let my thoughts stray at how many other kinds of meat he would hunt for. I
followed his lead and the small bags all got 10 pieces of meat about six inches long. They were roughly cut and about two inches wide. I did not mind doing this as it gave me something to do to keep my mind busy. Meat in the bag. Meat in the bag.
I continued until I had a pile of bags finished and he took the small bags that were filled. He put them in the largest sacks. So each large sack was very full of small ones. We continued for about an hour and I asked if I could use the crate. I did not know what to call it, but he seemed to understand what I meant. He walked out into the pathway and just kind of hung out while I went. Oh these lovely leaves of plenty. I was happy to have something but really wished for a cotton towel or napkin.
After finishing up, we went back to the sacks of meat and slid them onto long branches that were all stacked in a pile. He slid them on until the branches were full of sacks and said, “Are you ready to see more of my world?” I accepted his invitation and struggled to carry some to help, which he removed from my hands and smiled.
“I will always carry the sacks.”
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I follow behind trying to take large steps to keep up with his offer to join him in delivering the finished meat product.
We take the path back to the common place where others are gathered talking and small ones are playing games. We leave no sacks here and continue to the right which was the path we took last time to Barka’s office.
The walk feels nice and I look ahead to see what I will discover next. NO way to go up is what I notice most. I keep looking for a ladder or hole showing the sky outside. I remember when I first woke up here there were sky lights or some type of openings with sunlight coming through. I had not seen those in the areas I have been in since the meeting where I met Stem. Others are walking towards us and I am trying not to notice their reaction to me. I am putting everything I can into hoping Stem will realize that I am thankful for his offer to include me and needed the physical release of my energy. As we walk past another male Stem raises his arm to kind of high five him and they both make some kind of noise that sounds like an owl to me. They must be friends.
I do not see any other women or humans like me through the maze of paths that we take. And then su
ddenly something catches my eye. It is a road sign from up above leaning up against a dirt wall. The sign
said Lake of the Ozarks. This area happens to be about an hour west of my town in Missouri. It is a very large area that has many access points so I was not sure if this was something that was brought down to pinpoint the area we were in or if it was just a trinket or souvenir.
