The Way Things Seem

by Mackey Chandler

  Back home, David would have hesitated to eat the cheese carried all day in the heat. Tonight it was delicious. They shared the water back and forth, but after the meager meal Uncle urged him to finish it. Uncle saved the empty bottle and held another back. It wasn't full dark yet, but the meal and fatigue hit David like a hammer and he was asleep as soon as he stretched out on the fragrant greens.

  The moon was up and surprisingly bright when David awoke and had to relieve himself. Uncle was a dark mound of shadows with little detail, that didn't stir as David quietly moved as far away as he'd been instructed and fumbled in the dark. He was careful not to soil his feet and the sound of it was loud in the night. When he returned it was hard to find his bed. It was in shadow from the moonlight and almost invisible. He shuffled forward until his feet found it in the dark.

  In the morning David awoke before the sun was up, but the sky was bright. Uncle was sitting with his legs gathered in front of him as before with seemingly infinite patience. David went off to relieve himself again, and when he returned took time to savor the view which was quite different in the morning light. Uncle seemed to regard this with favor, not interrupting it.

  "You should scatter you bedding away from the camp," he instructed. After sharing just a sip of water Uncle led them down from the camp and resumed the direction of the previous day. David wondered how far they had to go, or if Uncle even had a clear goal. For some reason he felt it would be a show of weakness to inquire.

  "I'm not sure I could find the fueling station again if you dropped dead on me." David said after a bit. After he said it he felt it wasn't very tactful, but it was too late to recall the words.

  "I shall not expire before you have gone home," Uncle promised him. "If you turned and walked back to the south east you'd have to come upon the road. Then it would merely be a matter of finding out which direction led to the station. There were increasingly communities beyond where we departed the road, so if it was desolate where you chanced upon it likely the station would be south. If there were farms and building evident you should turn north."

  What struck David was not that he didn't take offense, but the absolute certainty with which he spoke of his own life and logically the inverse, his death. David was not superstitious, but he defiantly didn't want to ask him how he was so certain.

  Late in the morning uncle shared a bit of jerky and split another orange with David. He folded the empty sack up and tucked it away in his robe. He didn't have anything left in the way of supplies and didn't seem concerned about it. By all appearances they were headed deeper into the wilderness. David tried to picture where they might be from memory but he didn't have a good map of the area firmly committed to memory. He'd never needed to remember a map well, since he could call it up again at need. Indeed, David didn't think he owned a physical map of any sort back home. He was simply in the old man's hands.

  When they camped for the night it was in a less sheltered spot, but with a copse of low trees unlike any he knew. There were none of the bushes to make bedding and no supper was offered. He nevertheless was so tired he slept soundly.

  The next morning Uncle was again sitting waiting on him to wake up, but he was sitting regarding him rather than the landscape. In truth it wasn't near as spectacular a view. They didn't have the vantage from a hill of the day before. He didn't mind being stared at. Other cultures had different ideas about courtesy. He’d been stared at harder sitting in a sidewalk coffee shop in Israel. He was after all an odd bird far away from home.

  "You do not complain as easily as your father," Uncle remarked.

  " Bouh," David addressed him, trying for a more formal tone than Uncle, "I took a very different path from the rest of my family regarding my father. While I respected him a great deal, we were not close in many ways, and I never fawned on the man like the rest of the family, hoping to get something from him. I picked my own path, which although it was business, was still quite different. And this is a divider from the rest of the family too," he said, displaying the back of his hand toward Bouh in an exaggerated gesture.

  Uncle understood the gesture immediately, looked a little shocked and then recovered. Your siblings are not so light skinned? I do remember your father was much darker."

  "My half-brothers and sisters were just as dark as him, because they had a different mother. Father married a white woman late in life. Of course they didn't dare criticize him to his face. But they have no trouble with disdaining me."

  "People are so superficial," Uncle said, amazed. "I wish I had met them to see what part of your father they carry in their makeup. I already see you as having more affinity to be a Sahar than your father. He made a gesture with his palm around David's face, like he saw something there. David couldn’t imagine what he could see that would inform him of anything.

  Uncle laughed at David's skeptical expression. "Forgive me, I do not laugh at you as a person, but as a novice. I've had the sights too long and forget others don't share them. It makes me terrible company sometimes, even with my nephew, Ibrahim. He walked with me and saw a few glimmerings, but even that little he forgets easily."

  "My father's attorney differentiated you from a healer," David said. "I find lawyers say very little by accident. I wasn't about to grill him on it in front of my relatives. How do you differ? Are you a story teller or a historian?"

  "Traditional healers sometimes ask our help for diagnosis, the good ones anyhow. You will remember I said when my niece needed treatment we sent her off to Switzerland. Western medicine is superior in many ways, though as a Sahar I can tell you they have their blind spots too. The best of the traditional healers are herbalists and keen observers of what works and what doesn’t. The worst of the local sort are Animists and follow their tradition from rote learning, copying their teacher’s mistakes and adding errors of their own.

  “Sometimes we quietly help with treatment when not asked." That obviously made Bouh sad. "I admit it isn't always easy to know for what sort of help to ask. If you set yourself in opposition to the incompetents then you simply never get called again and lose even those few opportunities to help.

  "I'd say your culture might regard a Sahar as a wizard or a magician from your own historical context, though we see them as something much different with which we don’t want to identify. As I've grown older my English has improved and become more idiomatic I think visionary is more accurate."

  That wasn't what David expected at all, so he just nodded and left it at that for now.

  "I am aware you are hungry. We shall find something to eat tonight, but I am heartened you don't whine about it. I'm sure you never voluntarily go without a meal in a rich land," Bouh said.

  "Being here is entirely voluntary," David assured him, "as well as all the consequences of deciding to accept my father's challenge. I was handed ten million dollars the same as my elder brother just for being my father's son. This was something extra he wasn't even offered an opportunity to try."

  "Ah, I am seeing your motivation more clearly," Bouh said. "It's a personal challenge beyond the money, isn't it?"

  "Of course. If I'd declined the miserable son of a bitch would have said I knew I didn't have what it took the rest of our lives. If that seems spiteful to not allow him the satisfaction of it so be it."

  "No, I haven't met the other son. I didn't know the history, but I don't see petty arrogance in your personality. A Sahar knows," Bouh assured David.

  "Well good. I have some skill in reading people," David claimed, "but it would be handy to know with that level of confidence if you can teach me."

  Uncle laughed. "Good, I can see you aren't going to hold me in unthinking reverence. That's neither needed nor appreciated. It does go with the territory sometimes in this land. It gets tiresome when you have to endure it."

  David was surprised again. Bouh seemed to not be what he expected, frequently.

  * * *

  Uncle led them to a little side valley, a wrinkle in the side of a bigger hil
l. It looked like any of a number they'd marched past yesterday, but the old man must have known it. There was a tiny spring of water pretty far in. David was certain that's what they were seeking before Uncle said anything, because the vegetation got much greener and thicker as they approached it.

  He must have shown his apprehension, because Uncle assured him, "This water will not make you sick. He was given one of the plastic water bottles and instructed," Drink two bottles, more if you can hold it, and fill the bottle for later. Over here," he instructed, "the bottom is gravel and you won't stir up anything."

  David managed a third bottle although it made him feel a bit bloated. Walking a couple kilometers and relieving himself fixed that. He was hungry and grouchy but he put it out of his mind and paced the old man. Sometime in the early afternoon he was surprised to find he felt pretty good.

  It was late in the afternoon Uncle stopped and turned to him. "We shall hunt some dinner here. There are rabbits about, and I shall kill one, but I'd like your help to flush it from cover.”

  I've hunted rabbit," David assured him. "Do you want me to circle out and drive them back to you?" He illustrated what he meant with a sweeping gesture.

  "No need to leave my side. They shelter in these clumps of low bushes. I shall pick a few smooth smaller rocks for my ammunition, and you can pick a larger rock that isn't so fussy to throw in the bush and flush him out. I'll indicate which bush. It will help if you can drop the rock toward the far side so he comes out towards us."

  "You have no sling or anything?" David asked.

  "I was almost good enough for the Braves," Uncle assured him with a wink. It made David laugh out loud it was so unexpected. He wouldn't have bet anything on Uncle knowing the Braves existed, much less cracking jokes about trying out for them.

  David grabbed a flat rock that weighed about a kilo and a half. Uncle made no comment about it so it must be fine. They continued on long enough he was starting to get tired of carrying it.

  Finally Uncle stopped and looked at a clump of bushes slightly to the right of their path. Oddly he looked at it and then closed his eyes and turned his head one way and then the other lips pursed like he was thinking hard.

  "This will do nicely," he assured David. "Toss your rock to the back side please." He had one round missile in his right hand and three more in his left.

  David lofted the rock high underhanded and looked back at Uncle before it landed. He wanted to see the old man's style.

  Uncle did wind up very much like a major league pitcher. He was starting his throw before the rabbit appeared. The rabbit came out straight towards them, made a hard right hand turn, and went straight away from them. The rock looked to be a clean miss to David as it went after the rabbit but it was a curve ball. It came back from the right and smacked the rabbit right on the back of the head just below the ears. It tumbled forward and sprawled.

  "You said you've hunted rabbit before. Do you know how to dress one out?" Uncle asked.

  "Yes, I've done that several times, but I wish I had gloves. I've been taught not to risk getting disease from them. He certainly seemed lively and not sick, but sometimes you can't tell until you see his innards."

  Uncle looked surprised at him. "I wouldn't have picked him if he was sick. We passed one that was ill and a doe carrying young I wouldn't take. You need have no fear of him any more than the water from the spring. A Sahar will not feed you spoiled food or bad water. You will trust this once we get a bit further along in your training."

  David didn't argue. He didn't want to offend Uncle, but he'd never seen him give any indication he saw a different rabbit earlier. He cleaned the rabbit very carefully, using extra caution to not nick himself on his knife or the bones. It did look fine when he saw the liver. When he was done Uncle held out the sack from his nephews to carry it.

  They walked a few hundred meters further and Uncle did a repeat performance of the previous kill, including the weird curve ball toss. It was beyond David how he could throw at a running rabbit and plan an intercept point three or four meters ahead of his release. He had to admit, the old man was good. Good enough David wondered if he might not have qualified for the Braves when he was in his prime.

  The path Uncle followed didn't seem to have any steep portions, but they seemed to be walking uphill more often than down. The increase in altitude wasn't enough to make him breath harder, but it was enough to see a change in vegetation. The land changed another way too, the hills didn't seem any taller, but they drew closer together.

  When he mentioned it to Uncle he waved a hand off to the left, to the south, and informed David the land rose even more over the horizon and they grew very good coffee upon the slopes in that area.

  As they walked along Uncle cut a few sticks from bushes. He produced a cloth from somewhere on his person and started collecting dead wood too. David offered to carry it, but he just said that David had the burden of the rabbits. That was considerable since they were decent sized.

  Uncle stopped a little earlier than the previous nights. The sun was still a bit over the horizon. He led David to another sheltered spot that had been used before. He lowered his cloth to the ground and indicated with a finger David where should put the rabbits down.

  "We could use a little more wood for cooking," Uncle said. "Can you walk about a little distance and bring some back without getting lost?"

  If Uncle thought he needed to ask, David was respectful of him enough by now not to take offense. He thought about how he’d find his way. The ground was no longer dry and loose enough to show footprints, and the vegetation was high enough to hide things just a few tens of meters away. The sun was pretty low in the sky too.

  "I think, if I am careful not to leave this hill, and go pretty much straight uphill and back I'll be OK. If I get lost and can't find you I'll stay put for the night, not moving in the dark. In the morning I'll find two rocks and smack them together so you can find me."

  Uncle seemed pleased with that and dumped his fire wood, giving David the cloth to carry more back to camp. He also cautioned David not to gather wood from conifers, because the resins would taint the meat.

  David found a bunch of deadwood not a hundred meters away and filled the cloth generously. Headed straight back downhill he still was off to the side ten meters and almost went past Uncle without seeing him. When he made a right angle turn to approach Uncle made no comment on it. He already had the rabbit on skewers, ready to cook.

  Uncle had a habit of producing unexpected items from his loose clothing, so David had no idea how he intended to start a fire. He wouldn't have been surprised if he produced a cheap plastic lighter.

  David watched him prepare a fire, quite a small one, although longer along one direction instead of round. He took a small stick and made repeated cuts in it until it resembled a small carving of a pine tree. Uncle left an opening in the stacked wood and held the little starter piece down by that hole. Instead of producing a lighter or any other method David knew he sat very still and looked at the carved stick steadily. David was starting to wonder if he was changing his mind or having some sort of a seizure. Then the curled up slivers of wood started turning brown. David suddenly had trouble sucking in his next breath, and the hair stood up on the back of his neck...

  The wood got darker steadily and then started to smoke. It all burst into flame all at once instead of starting at a point and spreading. Uncle thrust it in the opening where it would catch the fuel above it on fire and stepped back.

  David was so sure of his own sanity he never considered it might have been a hallucination. Neither did he think it was any trick, a magician's sleight of hand. But the look on his face had to be addressed, even if he didn't say anything.

  "It is a small skill, but often handy. More frequently useful than... bigger things," he said a bit sheepish, as if it embarrassed him to jolt David so. "I'll teach you, but we need some things still to start. I think it will be at least another day's journey before we can find them."
>
  "You might have warned me," David said.

  "Really? How would I have phrased it? This I can do, but I'm not an eloquent man with words to say how. It’s far easier to show you. I can't show you other things quite yet, but soon, very soon."

  "You aren't unfamiliar with my world," David said. "You can crack jokes about my hometown baseball club. I've heard you use English I'd expect a college graduate to use, not a tribal fellow without letters. You just destroyed everything I know about the laws of thermodynamics. That's pretty disturbing to my world view."

  Uncle did an elaborate shrug. "We see American baseball and European soccer. Formula One racing and the Olympic games, besides all the silly entertainment things. We have movie disks and satellite. One doesn't really follow things like that closely, but it's easy to be aware they exist. Now, Thermo Dynamics..." He said it like two words. "I don't know much about that from the telly. That's science I take it. Nobody I know has much interest in it. They like to watch things upon which you can bet or appeal to the senses. But the words tell me it is about heat moving. Nobody ever taught me there were laws about it that I’d know not to break them. If they are so easy to break them they must be very weak laws."

  David picked up a small stone, about the size of a marble.

  "I'd no more expect to see that wood heat and light than I'd expect this stone to jump out of my hand and fly off into the sky."

  Uncle looked mischievous and regarded the stone. It didn't fly off into the sky. It did however rock back and forth several times and then roll out of the cup of his hand and fall on the ground. A chill went straight up David's back.

  "It's hard to make it move," Uncle admitted, "it’s much easier to just guide it when it is already moving."

  "The rocks you threw at the rabbits!" David said, almost like an accusation.

  "Well yes, exactly," Uncle agreed with a little nod.

  "The fire is doing nicely," Uncle said changing the subject. "Let's add some fuel and when we have some coals we'll roast the bunnies. I'm hungry, aren't you?"