Brigit's Flame February 2011 Second entry: Random Acts
This is a continuation from last week found here: http://merthin.livejournal.com/241333.html
For those of you without infinite time to read my drivel, a recap:
Biff (real name Trent) beat up Devin on the playground at school. After Devin was defeated, a tall, late-teenager boy (Tony BlackHawk) approached our fallen hero and told him he must choose the path of the rabbit (to run away) or the bear (to fight) and that he should go to the hill on the east side of town once he has decided. There, Tony has promised to help him, but Tony also told Devin that he needed to hurry as Tony would only be there for the summer.
---
For two days after the fight, Devin pondered what Tony had told him. He thought especially about the warning that if he chose the way of the rabbit that it would haunt him for the rest of his life. What did that mean? Did it mean he would always be running, never have the guts to stand up to someone? He didn't know. And then there was the bear. Just thinking of the bear conjured images of huge Kodiak Brown Bears swinging devastating razor-sharp claws and felling elk and moose with one stroke. It seemed the better choice, though Tony had said it would be a harder path.
Saturday morning dawned chill and dim, it being still only late spring in the Midwest, but Devin was awake at 5:00 AM. He wolfed down a couple pop-tarts, threw a banana and half a bag of baby-cut carrots into his backpack, scrawled a quick note for his parents and quietly slipped outside. It was a long ride to the hill on the east side. In fact, Devin had never ridden his bicycle so far from home and he wasn't entirely sure of the way. "Follow the sunrise," he thought. At least that would start him in the right direction.
Two hours later, Devin found himself at the bottom of the promised hill. Only a single dirt track more like a driveway than a road meandered up the embankment through a spray of stunted pines and a number of thickets of the more solid oaks. The storms last year had shredded many of the pines throughout the town and surrounding countryside.
At first, only the hill was daunting, as the climb was steep, but soon the road itself became dangerous. In several places there were deep tire marks filled with sand and wet ooze. He suspected that if he drove his bicycle into one, he might have to leave it there or risk sinking up to his waist in the muck. In other places, fallen pines had dropped near the edge of the track, their broken branches covering the treacherous road and potentially hiding worse things than a sinkhole. It was obvious no cars had traveled this way in quite some time.
At the last, Devin dismounted and picked his way carefully through the broken branches until he was almost at the top of the hill. Suddenly he stopped at a sound echoing through the woods.
Whack!
It sounded like something heavy being struck into a piece of wood.
Whack!-Crack!
Devin chuckled to himself. He recognized the sound as someone splitting wood and as he crested the hill, he saw the morning sun sparkling on the head of an axe as it whistled through the air neatly splitting a piece of wood. Tony, no longer in his slick leather jacket but instead in a flannel shirt and torn jeans was some seventy five yards away with his back to Devin. Devin paused, watching, and as Tony was about to take another swing, he also paused and looked back at Devin.
"I see you came the back way," he called over his shoulder waving Devin forward. He then turned back to his job and split the remaining piece of wood on the broad stump he was using for a splitting block. "I've been working on clearing the way, just in case I need to use it, but the storms last year were pretty rough on the trees and there's a lot to do. Here, help me carry this in." Tony waited for Devin to unsling his backpack and then loaded up his arms with wood until he couldn't see over the stack.
"I can't see where I'm going," Devin complained.
"Listen carefully to what I tell you. Follow the path until I tell you to stop, but walk carefully as there are some ruts."
"How can I follow the path if I can't see it?" Devon's voice was muffled by the stack of wood.
"Look down and to your left. You should be able to see the edge of the path. Follow that."
Carefully, Devin started walking, following the path as best he could. He knew Tony was in front of him, but he could not hear or see him.
"Stop." Tony commanded. "There are three steps up to the porch. Climb them."
Devin could now see the edges of a house around his stack of wood, or so he thought. Oddly, though there was a wall in front of him, there seemed to be more hill closely behind the roof. He felt forward with his foot until it struck the lowest step. Then he carefully found the edge and stepped up. He did this twice more. By now, even though it was dry pine, the wood was starting to get heavy.
"Good, now turn left and walk forward five paces."
Devin did so and waited.
"Good, that's enough for now. You can set the wood down."
Devin half set, half dropped the wood and watched it strike the edge of the porch floor and then bounce out into empty air and down a long rocky slope. There was no railing and had he taken but a half step more, he would have followed the wood likely resulting in a broken neck. Devin blanched and Tony grabbed him by the back of the shirt hauling him away from the edge.
"At least you are good at following instructions," Tony set him on a chair and let the shock subside. "Would you like some water?"
Devin nodded and Tony went inside the house. A moment later he returned with a large bucket and handed it to Devin. "Fill this and return."
For a moment, Devin thought there was some kind of drug-test, but then he saw the old-style hand-pump in the yard. He picked up the wooden bucket by the rope handle and trudged over to the well. At first, no water came out of the faucet, but after the fifth down-stroke of the pump-handle, a thin line of clear water streamed into the bucket. The next stroke of the pump handle delivered a solid splash. Half a dozen more strokes and the bucket was full, but when Devin went to lift it, the combination of solid wooden bucket, several gallons of water, and the strain from carrying the wood proved to be too much for his arms.
"I can't lift it," he called up to Tony who was still leaning against a wall of the house. Devin could now see that the house was built into the side of a hill and that one side of the porch looked out over the northern slope. The flat area he had initially climbed up on seemed to be a shoulder, possible shaped, possibly naturally occurring.
"Are you sure?" Tony called back, making no move to help.
Devin tried again but his arms just couldn't seem to lift the bucket with the water in it.
Tony called down again, "If your arms can't lift it, use something else."
Something else, Devin thought to himself. What else could he lift with other than his arms. Then he remembered a physical education class he'd had a while back that had talked about lifting with the legs. But his arms would still have to hold the bucket, unless...
He squatted and slipped the length of rope up over his shoulder. Trying to keep his back straight, he stood up, lifting the bucket with his legs. It was awkward to walk, but he was able to carry it up to the porch where a hint of a smile was playing on Tony's lips.
"Nice job," he actually smiled as he took the bucket from Devin and carried it the rest of the way into the house. "Come in," he called over his shoulder as Devin had paused at the thresh-hold.
The room inside seemed to be a large kitchen. A wood stove stood off to one side while a large expanse of black-slate tile covered the floor. A wide doorway on the far side of the room seemed to lead into a carpeted living-room. Tony went over to the sink and poured some of the water into a kettle.
"Would you like some tea instead of water," Tony asked. Devin nodded again.
"Good. Are you familiar with dandelions?"
Devin froze. "Are you going to ask me to go outside and find dandelions?"
"Very good. You're catching on quickly," Tony gave him a broad smile.
"I thought we were going to work on training...all I'm working on is doing your chores."
Tony laughed. "I see how these seemingly random acts could appear that way, but in fact, we have already started the training. So far, we have worked on trust, ingenuity, strength, and now eyesight. Now, go out and find a dozen young dandelion leaves for our tea as you ponder this. Be ready to explain the training I have given you so far when you return."
For those of you without infinite time to read my drivel, a recap:
Biff (real name Trent) beat up Devin on the playground at school. After Devin was defeated, a tall, late-teenager boy (Tony BlackHawk) approached our fallen hero and told him he must choose the path of the rabbit (to run away) or the bear (to fight) and that he should go to the hill on the east side of town once he has decided. There, Tony has promised to help him, but Tony also told Devin that he needed to hurry as Tony would only be there for the summer.
---
For two days after the fight, Devin pondered what Tony had told him. He thought especially about the warning that if he chose the way of the rabbit that it would haunt him for the rest of his life. What did that mean? Did it mean he would always be running, never have the guts to stand up to someone? He didn't know. And then there was the bear. Just thinking of the bear conjured images of huge Kodiak Brown Bears swinging devastating razor-sharp claws and felling elk and moose with one stroke. It seemed the better choice, though Tony had said it would be a harder path.
Saturday morning dawned chill and dim, it being still only late spring in the Midwest, but Devin was awake at 5:00 AM. He wolfed down a couple pop-tarts, threw a banana and half a bag of baby-cut carrots into his backpack, scrawled a quick note for his parents and quietly slipped outside. It was a long ride to the hill on the east side. In fact, Devin had never ridden his bicycle so far from home and he wasn't entirely sure of the way. "Follow the sunrise," he thought. At least that would start him in the right direction.
Two hours later, Devin found himself at the bottom of the promised hill. Only a single dirt track more like a driveway than a road meandered up the embankment through a spray of stunted pines and a number of thickets of the more solid oaks. The storms last year had shredded many of the pines throughout the town and surrounding countryside.
At first, only the hill was daunting, as the climb was steep, but soon the road itself became dangerous. In several places there were deep tire marks filled with sand and wet ooze. He suspected that if he drove his bicycle into one, he might have to leave it there or risk sinking up to his waist in the muck. In other places, fallen pines had dropped near the edge of the track, their broken branches covering the treacherous road and potentially hiding worse things than a sinkhole. It was obvious no cars had traveled this way in quite some time.
At the last, Devin dismounted and picked his way carefully through the broken branches until he was almost at the top of the hill. Suddenly he stopped at a sound echoing through the woods.
Whack!
It sounded like something heavy being struck into a piece of wood.
Whack!-Crack!
Devin chuckled to himself. He recognized the sound as someone splitting wood and as he crested the hill, he saw the morning sun sparkling on the head of an axe as it whistled through the air neatly splitting a piece of wood. Tony, no longer in his slick leather jacket but instead in a flannel shirt and torn jeans was some seventy five yards away with his back to Devin. Devin paused, watching, and as Tony was about to take another swing, he also paused and looked back at Devin.
"I see you came the back way," he called over his shoulder waving Devin forward. He then turned back to his job and split the remaining piece of wood on the broad stump he was using for a splitting block. "I've been working on clearing the way, just in case I need to use it, but the storms last year were pretty rough on the trees and there's a lot to do. Here, help me carry this in." Tony waited for Devin to unsling his backpack and then loaded up his arms with wood until he couldn't see over the stack.
"I can't see where I'm going," Devin complained.
"Listen carefully to what I tell you. Follow the path until I tell you to stop, but walk carefully as there are some ruts."
"How can I follow the path if I can't see it?" Devon's voice was muffled by the stack of wood.
"Look down and to your left. You should be able to see the edge of the path. Follow that."
Carefully, Devin started walking, following the path as best he could. He knew Tony was in front of him, but he could not hear or see him.
"Stop." Tony commanded. "There are three steps up to the porch. Climb them."
Devin could now see the edges of a house around his stack of wood, or so he thought. Oddly, though there was a wall in front of him, there seemed to be more hill closely behind the roof. He felt forward with his foot until it struck the lowest step. Then he carefully found the edge and stepped up. He did this twice more. By now, even though it was dry pine, the wood was starting to get heavy.
"Good, now turn left and walk forward five paces."
Devin did so and waited.
"Good, that's enough for now. You can set the wood down."
Devin half set, half dropped the wood and watched it strike the edge of the porch floor and then bounce out into empty air and down a long rocky slope. There was no railing and had he taken but a half step more, he would have followed the wood likely resulting in a broken neck. Devin blanched and Tony grabbed him by the back of the shirt hauling him away from the edge.
"At least you are good at following instructions," Tony set him on a chair and let the shock subside. "Would you like some water?"
Devin nodded and Tony went inside the house. A moment later he returned with a large bucket and handed it to Devin. "Fill this and return."
For a moment, Devin thought there was some kind of drug-test, but then he saw the old-style hand-pump in the yard. He picked up the wooden bucket by the rope handle and trudged over to the well. At first, no water came out of the faucet, but after the fifth down-stroke of the pump-handle, a thin line of clear water streamed into the bucket. The next stroke of the pump handle delivered a solid splash. Half a dozen more strokes and the bucket was full, but when Devin went to lift it, the combination of solid wooden bucket, several gallons of water, and the strain from carrying the wood proved to be too much for his arms.
"I can't lift it," he called up to Tony who was still leaning against a wall of the house. Devin could now see that the house was built into the side of a hill and that one side of the porch looked out over the northern slope. The flat area he had initially climbed up on seemed to be a shoulder, possible shaped, possibly naturally occurring.
"Are you sure?" Tony called back, making no move to help.
Devin tried again but his arms just couldn't seem to lift the bucket with the water in it.
Tony called down again, "If your arms can't lift it, use something else."
Something else, Devin thought to himself. What else could he lift with other than his arms. Then he remembered a physical education class he'd had a while back that had talked about lifting with the legs. But his arms would still have to hold the bucket, unless...
He squatted and slipped the length of rope up over his shoulder. Trying to keep his back straight, he stood up, lifting the bucket with his legs. It was awkward to walk, but he was able to carry it up to the porch where a hint of a smile was playing on Tony's lips.
"Nice job," he actually smiled as he took the bucket from Devin and carried it the rest of the way into the house. "Come in," he called over his shoulder as Devin had paused at the thresh-hold.
The room inside seemed to be a large kitchen. A wood stove stood off to one side while a large expanse of black-slate tile covered the floor. A wide doorway on the far side of the room seemed to lead into a carpeted living-room. Tony went over to the sink and poured some of the water into a kettle.
"Would you like some tea instead of water," Tony asked. Devin nodded again.
"Good. Are you familiar with dandelions?"
Devin froze. "Are you going to ask me to go outside and find dandelions?"
"Very good. You're catching on quickly," Tony gave him a broad smile.
"I thought we were going to work on training...all I'm working on is doing your chores."
Tony laughed. "I see how these seemingly random acts could appear that way, but in fact, we have already started the training. So far, we have worked on trust, ingenuity, strength, and now eyesight. Now, go out and find a dozen young dandelion leaves for our tea as you ponder this. Be ready to explain the training I have given you so far when you return."