The Troop

by Gayne C Young

  48

  Andrew and I quickly found a couple of long straight limbs and sharpened them into mini spears. We took these along with my day pack filled with a few essential items and Camelback full of water and a stuff sack given to us by Johnny up along the narrow game trail that led through the trees and to above the swimming hole. The trail was steep and a few times both Andrew and I had to grab a hold of a tree trunk or limb to pull ourselves up or to sturdy ourselves, but we eventually made it up to the top. We followed the narrow creek as it twisted through rocks then disappeared underground then came back up just below the spring. This water hole was pretty big and pretty much untouched.

  Except for the far side.

  It was a mess and given how torn up the ground around it was I’m guessing it was where the pigs had been congregated this morning. Feral pigs are fun to hunt and pretty good to eat but they do destroy a lot.

  Andrew and I took a break to dunk our heads in the spring. It was a lot hotter out in the open and out from under the shade of the trees and the straight out of the ground water of the spring was ice cold and felt great. I dumped the water from my Camelback on the shore and used the water filter to pump it for spring water. Although Dad and Johnny had said we could drink straight from the spring they also said it was always better to be safe than sorry.

  “What Indians used to live around here?” Andrew asked. “You know in olden times?”

  “Indians? Andrew really, how could you?” I joked. “How racist.”

  “I know,” Andrew smiled. “I mean, what nations…or is it indigenous people?”

  “Either, I guess. How would I know the correct term?”

  “Because your Dad used to teach history, right? Before he started writing for magazines?”

  “Yeah,” I said topping off my Camelback. “I think he taught high school for something like 14 years before he started doing magazine work.”

  “Man, that’s a long time.”

  “I guess.”

  “So, who lived here?”

  “The Apache. I think. Why?”

  “Just wondering. Funny to think about how they used to live here a certain way over 100 years ago and now we’re back to living that way.”

  “Hadn’t thought of that,” I admitted before holding up my Camelback and filter. “But they didn’t have these.”

  “Yeah,” Andrew laughed. “I’m sure water tastes better out of a Camelback than it does outta some kind a leather pouch or dried out deer intestine or whatever they used to haul water with.”

  We headed further up the valley to where the floor of scrub and smaller trees gave way to a wide ocean of small grasses and rock and clump after clump of cactus. The first stand of cactus was huge measuring probably 25 feet in diameter in about 3 1/2 foot tall. It was dotted with flowers and with dozens of reddish-purple pears. Andrew pulled the sack Johnny gave us from my pack and I stood at the edge of the vegetation looking for the best fruit.

  “The really, really purple ones are the ripest,” Andrew offered. “At least that’s what Johnny said.”

  “I stabbed at the purple pear closest to me with my sharpened stick then wiggled the fruit until it broke from the cactus pad. Andrew held the sack open and I dropped the fruit into the sack using my knife blade to slide it off my spear.

  “Yay!” Andrew laughed. “Only 29 more to go.”

  I chuckled then continued gathering fruit. We got maybe 10 ripe pieces into the bag before we moved onto the next cactus bunch. That stand of cactus was just as big as the previous one and I stabbed a pear that stood maybe three feet off the ground. I wiggled it free from the pad only to have it drop off my spear and into the middle of the green sea of thorns with a slight thud. The cactus suddenly swayed as if hit with a gust of wind and the air reverberated with a heavy rattle.

  Andrew and I jumped back from the cactus and fought to catch our breath.

  “There!” Andrew screamed pointing at the heavy yellowish-brown coil of Western diamondback rattler as it slithered further into the cactus

  “Holy crap!” I shouted. My legs felt like Jell-O and my mouth went dry and my arms clenched tight. “He didn’t rattle when we walked up on him. He didn’t rattle.”

  “Holy crap,” Andrew repeated. “Holy crap.”

  He didn’t rattle when we walked up,” I repeated.

  “I know,” Andrews agreed. “Guess he thought he was safe until you dropped that pear.”

  “Yeah that seemed to really piss him off.”

  “Maybe ya’ hit him on the head with it.”

  “I don’t care where I hit him. I’m just glad he didn’t hit me.”

  “Or me,” Andrew said.

  It took maybe 10 minutes for Andrew and me to catch our breath and stop shaking. We downed maybe a quarter of my spring water and just stood out in the open away from any vegetation higher than our ankles. Once we were more or less calm, we picked up a handful of rocks and approached the next stand of cactus and pelted the area underneath it with rock after rock after rock.

  “If there was anything under that bunch a’ cactus I’m pretty sure it’s gone now,” Andrew said.

  “Let’s be sure,” I said before grabbing a few more rocks. “Let’s be really sure.”

  49

  We told everyone back at the swimming hole about our encounter with the snake. Everyone said we were super lucky that we didn’t get bit. Andrew and I explained again how the snake didn’t rattle until it was disturbed by a falling piece of fruit.

  “Y’all are really lucky,” Dad said. “Real, real lucky. But I’m glad you’re safe.”

  “Rattlers don’t always rattle,” Johnny said. “It’s really only in the movies. And here’s an idea for you, that snake that almost gotcha might not have rattled because of those pigs Jack and I hunted this morning.”

  “Huh?” I exclaimed.

  Scientist think rattlesnakes used to rattle a lot more than they do now because of wild boar,” Johnny explained. “Pigs eat snakes. Snakes probably learned that rattling when a pig is nearby is just like ringing the dinner bell. That’s the theory anyway.”

  “Just another reminder that we all have to be careful out here,” Dad reiterated.

  Johnny took our sack of prickly pears and dumped them on the ground next to the fire. He took my sharped stick and poked one of the pears then held it over the coals until the small fuzzy thorns were burnt off.

  “See what I just did there Liam?” Johnny asked.

  “Yes,” Liam moaned knowing that he was about to be asked to do something.

  “Good, then you do that for each of the fruit.”

  “Then what?” Liam asked.

  “Then you give them to me,” Johnny said. He took the thorn free pear into his hand and squeezed it over the pig. Purplish gel squished out of the spear hole in the fruit and onto the cooking flesh. Johnny used the fruit skin to mop the liquid over the pig then looked at Liam. “Next.”

  Liam burned off the fuzz needles from another fruit then gave it to Johnny to squeeze on the pig. The smell coming off the pig was sweet but kind of sour. It’s hard to explain because I’d never smelled anything like that before, but it was great and it really got our all our mouths to watering

  “A few more hours,” Johnny said. “And we’ll all be in hog heaven.”

  “Oh my gosh,” Jack almost barfed. “Hog heaven? That is sooooo bad.”

  We all laughed then hit the water for some much-deserved downtime. For the rest of the day we did nothing but swim, lie in the sun, nap in the shade, and eat pound after pound of prickly pear barbecued pig. When we were done there was nothing left but a pig skeleton, we ate so much. It was a great Fourth of July.

  Well, except for the rattlesnake.

  That really did scare the crap outta me and Andrew.

  50

  The rattlesnake that almost got me and Andrew entered my dreams that night.

  And like in real life, it scared the crap outta me.

  I was on the same deserte
d island from the dream I’d had a few weeks earlier. My mom and Dad and even my sister were on this gorgeous beach with me and we were all having fun then…Bam!

  They were gone.

  And I was all alone.

  I was sitting on the beach when the rattler showed up from nowhere. I stood to get away from him and he whispered in this deep haunting voice, “It’s just you and me. It’s just you and me forever.”

  I yelled and tried to move but he suddenly grew enormous and coiled around me like a python and squeezed me. I felt my ribs give then crack. I couldn’t breath and my vision was going dark. The snake raised its head to my eye level then whispered again, “It’s just you and me. Just you and me forever.

  And.

  I.

  Am.

  Death.”

  The now giant snake reared his head back then shot forward to bite my neck. I bolted out of my cot and onto the floor of my and Liam’s tent. I stood there shaking, covered in sweat suddenly cold and unable to speak. I looked down to see Liam curled into a ball on his cot snoring loudly as usual.

  At least I didn’t wake him up.

  Thank God I was awake.

  And that it was just a dream.

  I tried to collect myself by walking outside of the tent. Again, I was shaking and breathing pretty hard and I didn’t want to wake up Liam. I had no idea what time it was as the sky was pretty overcast that night. There was some starlight showing through the clouds and a little bit of moon but for the most part it was still pretty dark. I scanned the campsite and saw that Johnny’s radio was on and illuminating. I walked toward the light and saw Johnny sitting at the controls as usual.

  “What’s up?” Johnny asked.

  “Had a nightmare,” I said.

  “About that snake today?”

  “Good guess,” I replied. “That and some other stuff.”

  “That’s normal I guess,” Johnny offered. “It’s hard to get a difficult time or scare out of your head.”

  “What time is it?” I asked changing the subject.

  Johnny looked at the bluish dial on his radio and said, “Pretty late. Almost three o’clock. You should try to get back to sleep. It’s back to making bricks tomorrow and I need all of you fresh.”

  I was about to say “OK” when the night came alive with the sound of birds squealing and fluttering and a low growl.

  “What the heck?” Johnny exclaimed as he rushed out into the darkness in towards the aviary. I ran after Johnny trying not to stumble in the dark. Johnny reached the aviary and fumbled with the door. He opened it and entered then fell backwards and through the chicken wire. He rolled over onto his side and screamed in pain. Birds flew everywhere. The growling got louder, and Johnny screamed. My eyes adjusted to the darkness and I made out a large dark shape attached to Johnny’s foot. Johnny came down on the shape hard with a rock or log and a loud scream. Dad appeared and rushed to Johnny. Jack, Carl, and Andrew stumbled out of the darkness with cries of, “What’s going on?” “What’s happening?” and “What is it?”

  Dad helped Johnny to his feet and Johnny kicked the dark form on the ground and cussed. Dad yelled from the darkness, “Guys, start a fire. Hurry!”

  51

  Carl, Andrew, and I stood there in the dark dumbfounded and unable to move. Jack walked towards his dad then stopped and almost cried, “Dad what’s…”

  “I’m OK,” Johnny muttered through clenched teeth. “Go help the others.”

  “Taylor. Carl…all of you, go get a fire going. Now!” Dad instructed once more. “We need light. Hurry up!”

  Carl said, “Come on Jack!” and took his arm and almost pulled him with us.

  We rushed to the fire area and scrambled in the dark to get a good base going. We piled tender then twigs and blew on the flame to build it after Carl lit it with a match. We piled smaller sticks on top of this and took turns blowing on the flames until the fire was going good enough to place on a few logs. Dad helped Johnny over, and Johnny dropped the dark form at the fire’s edge. It landed with a solid thud. The flames danced and in the melee we could see that it was a badger, his body flat but massive and his head split open and bloody.

  “That’ll teach him to mess with our birds again,” Johnny laughed before dropping into a folding chair.

  “Dad, are you OK?” Jack mumbled in a quivering voice

  Johnny held his boot to the fire and said, “Let’s see.”

  He unlaced his hiking boot and pulled it from his foot then placed it under his chair. He pulled the toe of his sock until the sock came off his foot then held his naked it to the fire. Dad leaned in for a closer look and offered, “I don’t see any broken skin. Looks like it’s going to bruise though.”

  “Oh, for sure!” Johnny laughed. “He really put the clamp on me. He had a vise for jaws. Thank God for sturdy boots.”

  “What happened Dad?” Jack said moving closer to where his father sat.

  “Well, I think Mr. Badger didn’t care for me walking in on his quail dinner,” Johnny joked. “Guess he took it personal n’ came at me. I kicked him n’ he got a mouthful a size 14 boot instead!”

  “How’s your back?” I asked referring to Johnny’s falling through the chicken wire fence.

  “Didn’t even feel it,” Johnny admitted. “I was running on pure adrenaline by that point. But you can add aviary repair and trapping a lot more birds to our list of chores to do tomorrow.”

  “So, we’ll skip brick making?” I asked.

  “Uh, no,” Johnny said.

  “You sure you’re OK Dad?” Jack asked sounding more relaxed than before.

  “No Jack. I’m not.”

  “What’s wrong Dad? I thought you said...”

  “I’m not OK because I don’t for the life of me have any idea how to cook badger.”

  “Can you eat badger?” Carl interrupted.

  “I’m not sure. But I’m going to try to eat that one,” Johnny exclaimed, pointing at the dead vermin before him. “I mean he tried to eat me. It only seems fair.”

  “I bet he tastes worse than javelina!” Andrew confessed. “Eating a badger sounds really, really gross.”

  “Why would you eat a badger?” Liam asked as he approached the fire. “And why are y’all all awake?”

  52

  Allow me to go on record as saying that badger is about the nastiest thing I’ve ever eaten.

  Really, really nasty.

  Johnny skinned and gutted the ankle biter and hung him up to cool in a tree before we all went back to bed. When we all got up the next morning, Johnny cut him into chunks then gave everyone a piece to roast over the fire.

  “That tastes like butt,” Liam said. “Sweaty butt. No. Sweaty butt after a month of diarrhea.”

  “Good Lord Liam. I think that’s enough description,” Dad said trying not to laugh.

  I said that biting into it made me think of the time I got the stomach flu. It had the same taste as what came outta me that day.

  “Vomit Carl,” exclaimed. “That’s vomit on a stick just cooked over a fire. Pure vomit.”

  “I don’t know I think it kind of taste like pork,” Johnny said. “I kind’a like it. I’m gonna have some more in fact.”

  “I can’t believe I’m eating badger,” Luke admitted.

  “What about you, Dad? What do you think of your badger?” I asked.

  “I agree with Johnny,” Dad said. “It tastes kind of like pork but then again not so much like pork.”

  “Well there’s plenty more,” Johnny smiled. “Anyone for seconds?”

  We all moaned that we’d pass on eating more badger then worked out our plan for the day. Dad, Matt, Andrew, and Luke would rebuild the aviary then check the bird traps. I, along with everyone else, was back on brick duty. We would all work until the heat of the day then sit out the burning temperatures in the living room until late afternoon.

  I was surprised that Johnny didn’t limp or stumble at all on the way down to the creek. I would have for sure afte
r getting bit by a badger. Johnny said his ankle felt stiff but other than that he felt pretty good.

  “It’d take a lot more than a badger to take me down,” Johnny laughed.

  We reached the creek and I stopped to stare at the massive pile of bricks we had created. I didn’t count them but there must’ve been a thousand. Surely there were enough there to make a dam I thought.

  “Almost there,” Johnny said in response to my disgruntled stare at our couple of weeks work. “We’ll be making a dam in no time.”

  “When?” Carl interrupted.

  Johnny ran his hand over his red beard in thought and then said, “Maybe after two or three more days of brick making. That would give us a dam of about two and a half to three feet tall.”

  “That’s deep enough,” Carl said.

  “But the swimming hole’s a lot deeper than that. It’s over our head out in the middle,” Jack exclaimed.

  “Sure is,” Johnny said. “But the idea is to create a pond. Not a swimming pool. Create a place where we can easily get water and that will attract lots of wildlife.”

  “But what if we want to go swimming,” Jack complained.

  “What do you do now if you want to go swimming?” Johnny asked.

  “Go up to the swimming hole,” Jack muttered.

  “Well, there you go,” Johnny, laughed again.

  We fell back into our routine of brick making pretty quickly. We shoveled mud and gravel, mixed grasses and leaves into it, then shoveled the whole mess into the forms and began again. It was dull work to be sure but it wasn’t that difficult. But all of us were getting tired of doing it that’s for sure.

  53

  Our afternoon in the living room turned into an art project that ended with a lot of us looking like what Dad referred to as tribal hunters. It began with Johnny pulling badger teeth.