Chapter 2 & 3 of the Hare The Bow and The Girl

Two – The Lepus

 

“Wait, rabbits?” Riley asked. “Like, bunnies?”

“Yes, gigantic rabbits! They weren’t much like bunnies I can tell you. The one in front of me was easily six feet tall, standing on his hind legs. His face looked like a rabbits all right, but so big it looked fierce not cute. Its eyes were slanted and focused intently on me, the nose flat, quivering, the whiskers twitching in the dappled sunlight. He wore a white shirt and had a large sword in his paw, it out and ready to thrust at me. Underneath I could see his fur, jet black with flecks of grey mixed in. I looked behind the rabbit to see if I could see who had spoken, but then I got the second shock of the day. It was the rabbit who had spoken!”

When the voice behind me spoke all of the party below the rock turned my way. I slowly put the bow down, keeping my hands above my waist. I turned around too and I pretty much turned five shades of white I guess.

“Why don’t you climb down that rock, mister? I got a bead on you so don’t try nothing funny, understand?”

What can I tell you? I nodded, still in shock. As best I could I climbed down the rock until I was on the floor of the wooded area. By that time the other four men and the other rabbit had come over. I think I must have looked pretty scared because one of the men chuckled a little and held out his hand.

“I’m Siuos Smit. You can call me Smit. The bully behind you is Walter,” he said, nodding to the giant rabbit that had followed me down the rock. Walter still had his knife pointed at me and a mean look on his black face.

“I’m not being a bully, Smit. This man had his bow out and was about to shoot you all.”

“All of us with one arrow? Well, I must say you must be a first class shot.”

“That’s not what I meant, Smit.” Walter put his bow down and sat back, putting his front paws on the ground, looking to me for the first time like a real rabbit. “Fine,” he said in a bored voice, “you deal with him. I get your belt if he kills you.”

“He ain’t gonna kill us, Walter. In fact, it looks like he might the one to drop over any second. You got a name, stranger?”

“E-e-e-e-ric.”

“Well Eric, it is good to meet you. This here is Rake and Jet.” He pointed to the two other men next to him. “And the other Lepus here is Andrew.” 

Andrew stepped forward and offered a paw. He was just as large but silver grey with a black nose.

“Andrew Morgan, surveyor, chief of this crew.” He cast a look at Smit, “Terribly sorry for the overreaction, but the roads are full of travelers, and others… these days…not sure if they are all on the up and up you know. Your…costume is… where are you from?”

“Um, up on the mountain.”

“Mountain? Which mountain? Where?”

“Tobacco Row. The one right…”

It was at this point that I looked around. I could see fields through the woods but I could not see any of the hills I had spent the past 19 years roaming no matter which direction I turned.

Andrew the rabbit tilted his head, eye narrowed, “Tobacco Row Mountain? Never heard of it.”

Walter caught Andrew’s mood, stepped forward, and leaned into my face. “I wager none of us never heard of it. I’ve been up and down this country more than a few times. No mountains around here. What exactly are you playing at, Mr. Eric?”

I stumbled back a step, now convinced beyond the shadow of a doubt that I was suffering from sunstroke or possibly had just plain up and died. Giant rabbits were questioning where the mountain I had spent my whole life on was exactly.

“I…the mountain…look, I’m not sure. I was just chasing a ra—…I was going through the woods there when I came out across that field.”

“What field?”

I turned around, relieved to actually see the field behind the outcropping of rocks.

“That field. I came across that stream.”

“Through the bamboo?”

“Yes.”

“Are you sure?”

At this I noticed all of them looking at each other. Walter snorted. Andrew took a step forward but Walter held up a paw.

“That’s impossible!” Walter said it like he was cursing, “Men can’t get through there. No one has ever come out of there! I think he’s from up north.”

“Ain’t no Yankee. I-I did just come out of there, across the stream.”

“Now Walter,” Andrew said, “I have never heard of men being able to traverse the bamboo, but maybe…Interesting.”

“Mr. Andrew, do you think really?” Smit had quietly stepped up and put his hand on Walter’s shoulder. Walter violently shrugged it off and looked back at Smit “It would explain the clothes” Said Smit, trying to gloss over Walter’s reaction.

I knew now that I was not where I should have been, but things felt so familiar right then. I guess I should have run, or tried to, but I was both calmed by the surrounding and more than curious about the people and rabbits in front of me. I had rarely been off the mountain. I knew things here were plenty strange, but my frame of reference was pretty limited. I mean, I knew that giant rabbits didn’t exist, at least in the real world, so I was curious as to where, exactly, I had landed.

“If I’m not on Tobacco Row then where am I?”

“The high path to the castle at Five Forks. We are on our way to the fair, as it were. Where are you headed?”

“I, uh, well, I’m not sure really. Like I said, I sort of stumbled here…well, really did stumble. I uh, guess I should head back.”

Andrew snorted, pushed up the pair of glasses on his nose and smiled a not unkind smile. “Not likely sir. Those bamboo are tricky; can’t just come and go. Doubt seriously if you could get back… now, anyway. But no worries, friend. If you are not going anywhere, you’re welcome to come with us.”

Walter grunted. “Not happening, Andrew. He is welcome to go somewhere else—by himself.”

“Walter, Walter…do not hold it against Mr. Eric what him being from out there. Why, I bet you mean us no harm right? Why, I bet you’ve never even shot rabbits with your bow when you were over beyond the woods. Right?”

I was not sure what to say, so I just kept quiet. Andrew’s eyes went wide. Walter grunted again. It was Smit who broke the tension.

“I don’t know as much about over there as Mr. Andrew does, but I do know it’s different. I’m sure you were only looking for food, Mr. Eric.”

“Well, sure, what else?”

Andrew looked as though he was going to be sick; Walter just glared. When Andrew had recovered enough, he took off his glasses and polished them with a small white handkerchief. Walter thumped a paw on the ground. Andrew gave him a look. Walter spoke.

“He’s not like the people here Andrew. I say we leave him here and if he follows us we kill him.” Walter put one of his large paws on a knife sheathed on his belt.

“Well, yes, of course. Things are… different in different places. Still Walter, we have to be open-minded. I, for one, have never had the chance to talk to someone from another country such as Mr. Eric’s. I am curious” He looked me up and down, glancing nervously at my still strung bow.

“I say we allow him to travel with us as long as he behaves himself. What do you say Mr. Eric? Will you join us as a friend?” Andrew placed the glasses back on his nose and smiled.

I didn’t think all that much about it, to be honest. I had no one waiting for me back at home and I was just as curious about this world as Andrew was about ours.

“Thank you, Andrew. I would be happy to.”

“Alright then, it’s settled. Come now, all of us, let’s continue to Five Forks. We do not want to be late to the festivities, not after being out here so long. Oh and, for the sake of Mr. Walter here, perhaps if you uh, unstrung your bow, that would make him happy?”

Walter hopped by, giving Eric a deathly stare in the process. He muttered something about pigs under his breath.

I started to follow them but then stopped as a thought popped into my head.

“Am I dead?”

Again the party stopped and looked back at me.

Andrew laughed, “Of course not, good sir! Well, that is to say not unless we all are! If you are ghost or some such spirit then you are a remarkably whole one. So, I hope that no, you are not dead. Here, walk with me Mr. Eric and I shall try to fill you in as I am able.”

 

 

 

Three – The Strange Land

 

So we walked down the path. It wound through lush green woods with towering oak and poplar trees. Here and there massive trees had fallen, forcing us to alter our route. The path was clear but seemed seldom used. Fallen leaves and branches littered its way, but the impression of a path, the shallow sunken earth, was easy enough to follow. For some time we climbed up a hill and eventually came out along a large flat area. Here and there I could see openings in the forest, filled with shrubbery and creeping vines. The trees were uniformly large, as if the area had never been cut for wood. Every so often we would pass under a tree littered with large brown nuts, or tiny floret pinecones. We walked for a long time, following a small creek and never saw houses or other people. The woods seemed to be primeval, ancient, yet did not seem threatening, at least to me. I had grown up in woods like these, albeit with smaller trees, but nonetheless I felt strangely at home here.

Walter and the others were ahead. Andrew seemed to be older and walked more slowly. But in looking back I think maybe he just wanted to talk to me without the other rabbit hearing too much. The party that walked in front of us was a strange sight to behold. Smit, the man who I had first met, was a solid stocky fellow with a weathered face. His nose was red and reminded me of the old drunk whop used to hang out at the store on the foot of the mountain near the forks of Buffalo. Next to Smit was another man, a tall stringy fellow with long dull blonde hair and a pockmarked face. He carried a large pack and, based on how he stuck close to Smit and looked to him whenever the group stopped, must have been his assistant. The other two in the group were the large rabbit, Walter and another man. This other man was short and slight, but carried a long sword and had a fierce look. He looked very young, but tough. On top of his head was a large floppy cap that obscured most of his face.

When the group was a good ten paces ahead of us, Andrew lightly cleared his throat.

“I’ve been to your mountain. Well, possibly anyway,” he said. “I am no expert but I can tell you what I know, what I have heard. The short of it is that we Lepus can traverse the stream and the woods into the bamboo. The bamboo is a magical place I think. At least it is for us.”

“No offense but I’ve never seen anything like you back home.”

“No, I should suspect not. That seems to be part of the process. We lose stature when we cross over, which is why we do not do it often. Here, in this world, we have size as well as speed to defend ourselves. Over there, only speed. It is also…difficult to cross. We cannot always go over when we want. And more worryingly, we cannot always come back here when we want. We also avoid the place as we do not like ending up as someone’s supper.”

I’m sure my face turned a bright shade of red. “Oh, yes. I am sorry about that.”

“Not to worry, good sir. It’s different there, I know. Still, when you are here or if you ever make it back, I ask you to refrain from …you know.”

“Honestly, I don’t think at this point I could ever even think about eating another ra—” I stopped as I felt I was being rude.

Andrew smiled a slight, sickly smile, “Nothing to it. Plus, far more of our kind have succumbed to foxes and dogs over there than men. Now Eric, I am sure it must be a shock to see us Lepus, but I assure you there is not much here that is different.”

“So far it seems the same. It even feels like home, although you all dress oddly.”

“Likewise.”

I smiled, looking down at my trousers and rough cotton shirt. Andrew looked much smarter in a red silk vest. It had a pattern of leaves and vines done with green threads running along the edges.

“What about other, uhm, animals?”

“What about them?”

“I mean, are there other…creatures here, like yourself, who walk and talk like people?”

“Perhaps people walk and talk like us?” Andrew laughed at his joke. “Still, not that I know of. I have never seen others like us on this side of things.” His voice was light but I noticed he did not meet my gaze. “What about wizards or fairies or talking scarecrows?”

“I am not familiar with any of those around here, although a talking scarecrow would be a sight and perhaps useful for the farmers.”

“Where exactly is here?”

“Blackberry Valley. We call is Elily in Lepine.”

“Lepine?”

“My good sir…you didn’t think we Lepus spoke your language?”

“Well, I dunno. To be honest I’m not sure what to think about any of this. I’m actually thinking I should just head back before I forget where I came out from.”

I stopped along the path and looked behind us. I felt I could easily follow the path back to the pile of rocks at the edge of the field. For the first time I actually felt a hurt for the mountain and a longing for home. Andrew stopped and looked back with me and then at me.

“Eric, perhaps it would be good. I’m no fortune teller, but I don’t know of any good reason you are here. It might be purely by accident.”

“Not likely.”

We both spun around. Walter had come back.

“He’s here for a reason…maybe even one he knows about and isn’t telling?” Walter’s face was hard and set. “Still, a good idea I think you should head back runt, before you get hurt.”

I returned his gaze with what I could only hope was an equally hard and deep stare. “I’m not afraid if that is what you are suggesting. I can handle myself.” My mind made itself up, I was not going to let a bully, even a six foot tall bully rabbit, try to send me packing.

Walter snorted; it sounded like a laugh. “Fine…Come on then, both of you; keep up or get left.” He turned and hopped back up to the group in front.

“I apologize for him,” Andrew said. “Lepus and people have a…complicated history. And Walter’s is more complicated than most I’m afraid. Now, you can go back or stay. But Walter is right—we do need to decide now.”

I took a deep breath. An image of the empty house was all I could see of home; that and the old ladies at church trying to set me up with every girl in the county. I exhaled slowly.

“It’s okay. Let’s go. Um, where are we going?”

“To a celebration, my new friend; a fair followed by a feast followed by a wedding—a glorious trio if there ever was one!”

“What’s it all about then, the celebration?”

“I can explain that too. Hurry up before Walter and the rest hop off without us.”

So we walked for the rest of the afternoon along the path that passed mostly through the woods, running near a stream. Andrew explained more about where we were going.

“Blackberry Valley is really one in a set of three connected valleys. To the east are the foothills and the great ocean; to the west the Great Rising mountains. Nestled in between are three kingdoms; Early, Williamsdale and Rutledge. We are headed to the one furthest south, Early, where King Dahl’s only daughter is marrying the young King Kitsunamoshee of the next valley over, Williamsdale. Those two kingdoms have been at war, on and off, for at least the past hundred years. This wedding will unite the two kingdoms, eventually, once Dahl dies. But he is a young man, so to t speak, and has many years left. Of course it is a bit more complicated than that, but we Lepus do not pay much attention to human politics. It is fairly boring.”

“The Lepus don’t have politics?”

“Oh, for sure we do but it’s not the same. It’s much simpler, more, um…direct. Really, I am not sure which I prefer: the bestial nature of our political fights or the unending intrigue of human court affairs. Either way it gives me a headache, sir. How about back in Tobacco; do you have politics?”

“Virginia? Yes, but no kings or queens. We did away with them some time ago, although what we got instead isn’t much better. We have elections. People choose who they want to be in the government.”

“Based on fights then?”

I laughed but Andrew did not smile. “Well, I’ve read about some nasty speeches, and sometimes men get into it all right but no; no fights. Though a few years before I was born, when my dad was a boy, there was a terrible war over who would be in charge. Where I come from we mostly do for ourselves. But from time to time those hateful bureaucrats do come up the mountain to tell us what to do. We have no use for government types up there.”

Andrew did laugh at this, “My dear boy—really.”

I wasn’t sure what I had said, but then it hit me that I had no real idea who this group was. They could be highwaymen for all I knew.

“Andrew, what is it y’all are doing here again?”

“We’re surveyors,” Smit piped up beside me. I had been so involved speaking to Andrew I had not seen him behind us listening to our conversation.

Andrew laughed again. “I am the surveyor. Humble government employees at your service, Mr. Eric.”

I think I turned five shades of red. “I didn’t mean no offense.”

“Of course not! I feel the same frustration when dealing with the king’s ministers, I assure you. Besides, I am not an employee per se; my crew and I work for the king now, but not always. Smit and Rake are my assistants, as I must often remind Smit.”

“Yes, sir. Rake and I have been working with Mr. Andrew here for the past few years. We’ve been out fixing town borders in Early. Perparin’ for the eventual mergin’ of the two kingdoms.”

“Smit, now we are not engaged in that exactly. The king felt it would be a good idea to fix borders now, before decisions are made. So we have been out for the past couple of years compiling place names, positions, boundaries, etc.”

“That’s a long engagement.”

“Well, it is a big valley.”

I was confused for a moment until I realized he was confused as well. “No, I meant for the princess and the king.”

“Indeed! It’s not what you think, however. They have been engaged since the Princess was five. Twelve years now. Long enough I think. It is not like for other folks, even us Lepus, Eric. Someone like the princess does not marry for love after all.”

“Some say she’s never even met Prince Kitsunamoshee.” Smit had a strange way of speaking. His words tumbled out as if he was worried he’d be cut off at any moment. After each sentence he cast a quick glance at Andrew, almost as if to make sure he could go on. “Mr. Andrew tell you about the fair yet?”

“Some.”

“It’ll be wonderful! People from all over comin’ and it lasts a whole week. Food enough to make you fat, beer, women…”

“And the fun that comes from all that. I think Smit here is a little excited. Too long in the woods, eh Smit?”

“Yes sir, Mr. Andrew.” Smit fell silent. I found myself nervous for him.

“What is beyond Early?”

“You came out of it basically. Beyond that Bamboo few have gone,” Andrew turned and gave me a silent wink. “Those that have describe it running from ocean to mountain. The way beyond the mountain is blocked; no one has ever passed. By sea is no better. Those that have ventured out to the sea report day after day of desert and a most treacherous sea. In short, no one knows what lies beyond that desert. Something must though I suspect, hmmm Mr. Eric?”

I didn’t say anything. I never was much good at geography in school…had a better head for numbers. I couldn’t recall any big deserts to the south of Virginia. Lost in my thoughts my bow slipped off my shoulder. I bent to pick it up.

“You any good with that bow, Mr. Eric?” asked Smit.

“I guess so.”

“Show us then.”

“Yes, a capital idea, Smit,” agreed Andrew, slightly out of breath. “I’ll stop the others and we can all have a nice break while Mr. Eric here demonstrates his skill with the bow.”

“No need. When I am out hun—… in the woods I can’t stop to set up, you know.”

“Oh, yes, rather.” Andrew looked disappointed, for I think he was looking forward to a little break.

“Okay, look: see that tree up ahead of Walter and the others?” Eric pointed to a large oak off the path ahead of them. “See that funny branch that hangs off the lower limb? Now watch it.”

With a fluid movement Eric took out an arrow, loaded it, and after less than a half a moment’s hesitation let the arrow fly. It glided through the air, sliced through the branch, and fell into the woods beyond. All that was left was the branch, floating gently down, buoyed by its many greens leaves. It landed in front of Walter.

But Walter had already heard the arrow’s whistle and after two large backward hops he had pinned Eric to the ground. “You all saw that!” Walter demanded, holding a small knife at Eric’s throat. “Too bad your arrow missed, pisser. I can tell you that my blade will not.”

Eric lay there dazed, the breath having been knocked out of him. He could see Smit behind Walter, as white as a sheet. The other two, Rake and Jet came running up to us.

Andrew put a paw on Walter’s shoulder. “Relax Walter, my peffa. Mr. Eric meant you no harm. His arrow did not miss as his target was the branch. He was merely demonstrating his considerable skills with the bow. Although if I could make a suggestion for the future, Mr. Eric…”

“Thank you.” I gasped for air and then looked into Walter’s terrible angry eyes as best I could.  “I am sorry about that. I did not mean to scare…”

“Look here, man,” Walter warned, “I suggest you keep your little jokes to yourself if you want to live until tomorrow, understood?”

I nodded but did not dare speak to answer.

“Come now, Walter.” Andrew said with forced conviviality. “Let us all continue on to the fair. Over the next ridge is a good camping site I recall. And by this time tomorrow we’ll be on the main road, only two days away from the fair. I think we’ll all be in better spirits then, no?”

Walter harrumphed as he and Jet began to walk down the path again.

“That were amazin’,” said Rake, the first time Eric had heard him speak.

“Sure was, Mr. Eric. Now, look here. I figure there is bound to be archery games at the fair. Rake and I will be your agents. We’ll be sure to rake in a tidy sum with your skills.”

“Honestly now, Smit—agents? Mr. Eric is perfectly capable for himself. Come now, catch up, let’s not agitate Walter any more that we have to.”

Andrew and Rake turned to catch up as Smit helped me to my feet.

“Stick with me, son. We’ll see to it that you get a king’s ransom in town. Leave it to Smit.”

I was still dazed or I might have been more aware of the change in Smit’s tone now that Andrew was out of earshot.

I gathered up my bow and trotted up to Andrew and Rake.

“Mr. Andrew, if you don’t mind me asking, what exactly does Walter do?”

“He and Jet are our protection, Mr. Eric. After all, not everyone likes a government bureaucrat, no?”

 

NEXT CHAPTER: http://dhrichards.blogspot.com/2014/12/chapter-four-theif.html

The Hare, The Bow and the Girl - Prologue Chapter One

The Hare, The Bow and the Girl

Book One

Dream of The Lepus

 

By D H Richards

Prologue

The knife was unlike any Riley had ever seen. His great-grandfather had given it to him earlier that evening, for Riley’s 16th birthday. It had a worn wooden handle, polished smooth by decades of use. It was a dark hardwood, maybe even some sort of tropical wood, and appeared to have had carvings on it, but they were worn down. Embedded in the handle was a single red gemstone, cut into an oval shape.  The blade was the strangest part. It was about eight inches long and polished to a dull sheen, not like the shiny new knives Riley had seen at Sears. There was an inlay near the handle of a darker metal showing vines and leaves and what appeared to be an animal, a rabbit perhaps, peering through them. And if he looked carefully he could swear the rabbit had a cap on its head.

Why a rabbit, he wondered. Wouldn’t a deer be more appropriate? Why would the rabbit be wearing a cap?

Riley was inside the house, studying the knife. He looked out onto the porch where his great-grandfather was sitting. He wanted to ask him about the knife, it looked so strange, so very foreign and different from any knife his friends had shown him or that he had even seen, but the old man had only thrust a box into his hands after dinner and gruffly wished him a happy birthday. Riley was mostly scared of the man.  

His great-grandfather was old, very old. His face, once strong and handsome—Riley had seen it in old photos—was now loose and sallow, his eyes sunken in, his bright smile faded into a permanent frown. But it wasn’t his age that made Riley scared; it was how the old man seemed to only to communicate by gruff noises.

Riley himself was tall but rail thin; a floppy head of unstylish long brown hair on his head over a pair of dishwater blue eyes. He was not much good at sports and honestly not that good in school either. And everything he did seemed to disappoint the older man, who was not shy about letting Riley know it.

Almost everything: Riley knew his grandfather was…well, not happy, but satisfied that Riley had taken up archery. He never let his great-grandson forget how good he used to be with the bow, but he did once acknowledge that Riley was good too.

The only other person in the house was Riley’s mom, but she was rarely around, often working double shifts down at the cannery. It was Riley’s job to look after his great-grandfather—a job that he often got wrong, if the old man was to be believed.

Riley looked again at the knife turning it over and over, looking for a mark or some clue as to where it was from, who had made it. He wasn’t even sure what it was for. It had a smooth edge, as if for slicing, not for cutting or sawing. He weighed going out to ask his great-grandfather about the knife. If he disturbed the old man after dinner he might get yelled at—or worse, ignored. He might wait until his mom got home, but doubted she would know much. She was adamantly against weapons of any kind, to the point that she made Riley keep his bow in the garage.

He screwed up his courage and opened the door out onto the front porch, “Paw Paw?”

The old man sitting on the folding chair looked up. He took a moment to register who had spoken and then looked back away.

“Thanks for the knife, Paw Paw. It’s cool. Looks old…”

“It is.”

The old man did not look back this time. He carefully drew up the blanket on his lap. Riley stood there studying the wooden planks of the floor, tracing the patterns in the wood worn down by years of use and years of neglecting paint. Paw Paw had lived here with his parents, who had built the house in the last century. Even though it was drafty in the winter and leaked in the rain, Riley liked it. It was better than living in a trailer like some of his friends did.

The old man had worked for the railroad in Monroe, but that was decades ago. Now all that was left of the family was Riley and his mom, Paw Paw’s grand-daughter. Riley’s dad had left when he was born, and his grandfather had died in Vietnam. Everyone else was dead or lost. He heard he might have relatives out west, but he had never met them.

Paw Paw didn’t do much. He sat on the porch during the days, unless it got too cold, and stared out into the distance. The old man had few words to say to Riley.

Riley found himself staring at the floor often around the old man. When he looked back up, the old man was still looking out.

“I wanted to thank you,” Riley began again.

“You’re welcome.”

“No, I mean…I wanted to let you know… it’s a pretty nice knife—really. I mean, it’s old, right? Was it yours?”

“Yes.”

The quiet came back. Beyond the porch evening was leaving the sky above; below the air was still with a chorus of cicadas steady in the background. Little blinks of lighting bugs emerging from the bushes.

“Paw Paw?”

The old man just sat there. Riley saw he wasn’t asleep, but he didn’t respond.

“The rabbits?” Riley tired again to start the conversation—still no movement.

“Paw Paw, every time after dinner you sit out here… what I mean is… you never talk about it.”

“You like the knife, Riley?”

He stopped short. The old man hardly ever called him by his name. Riley was afraid he’d said something wrong.

“Yes, sir. Is there a reason it has a rabbit on it? Why is the handle so smooth?” questions tumbled out from Riley, afraid of being cut off again, “It looks old.”

“It is. Probably older than I am. It was a gift…given to me by someone…special. But now I am giving it to you, for safekeeping.”

“Is it connected with the rab—?”

“I used it when I hunted you know. It’s a solid knife.”

“I didn’t think you hunted.”

“Sure did. After my parents passed I had to eat, right? Some deer in these woods and back then lots of rabbits, squirrels, even possum if done up right isn’t bad…”

“The rabbits? But I thought, you know, we’re supposed to leave them alone. Momma told me if I ever hit one with my bow you’d disown me.”

“Yeah, that’s right. Never touched a rabbit with that knife, that’s for sure. I couldn’t…This was before.” Again silence settled over the porch. The older man returned to staring out at the edge of the woods.

“Before what Paw Paw?”

“Never mind. Nothing. Late. ”

“I’m getting good at the bow Paw Paw. I hit the bulls-eye today from 100 feet walking by, just like you suggested. I bet I could hit even a rabbit now. All I’d have to do is—”

“Stop!” The old man swung his arm up from the blanket, his long finger pointing at Riley. “Stop!”

“Why? Every time I ask—”

“Just stop!”

“Tell me why? Why can’t I go hunting like you did? I could help out, no shame in deer or rabbit for dinner.”

“Don’t ever!”

“Why not?” Riley couldn’t help himself.

His mother would have beat him soundly for yelling at the old man like that, but Riley was confused and annoyed. Even though the family was poor and other mountain families hunted the deer and rabbits in the forest, he’d never been allowed to do so. Most nights they ate vegetables from the garden or hotdogs from the stores, but never game.

“Why not?”

The old man looked at Riley, his hand still pointing; his mouth open. But he suddenly closed him mouth and lowered his hand. He turned back to look out at the night. “Just don’t.”

“I’m not a little kid anymore. I can do whatever I want, you know. I could hit a rabbit, I could. I just might to show you I can. Tell me why I can’t! Tell me!”

But the old man just sat and stared.

“Fine then,” Riley turned and opened the screen door.

“I’m waiting for something.”

The old man said it so softly Riley wasn’t sure if he heard it. He turned back around, letting the screen door close. “What are you waiting for Paw Paw?”

The old man slowly turned around and looked back into the house. The sound of Riley’s mom cleaning up came from inside the kitchen. He motioned Riley to come back over and sit on the chair next to his wheelchair.

“I’m waiting for a rabbit to come back.”

“Back? From where? Does it have to do with the knife?” For the first time he could remember Riley saw a twinkle in the old man’s eyes; his face had come alive.

“Well Riley, that’s the story isn’t it?”

 

 

 

Chapter One – Into the Bamboo Forest

 

“Pull up a chair and sit down Riley. You can’t tell your mother none of this. She would have a fit if they heard me talking about this.”

Riley nodded his head, afraid to say anything least the spell be broken. He had never seen his Paw Paw so animated. His eyes had a light in them Riley had never seen before. For once the old man wasn't scowling at him. His eyes had a light in them Riley had seen before only in an old photo of his great grandfather. The photo was a studio portrait, done, Riley guessed, when he had graduated from high school. His great grandfather had a thin, handsome face, with high cheekbones, full dark hair and piercing eyes, eyes full of life and fight.

“When I grew up here we used to live off the land, I guess you would say. To us it was just living.  Back then route 60 was a long ways away. Nobody had cars, just horses. Just to get into town was a half days ride, never mind any cities. The railroad was a good day’s ride too at that time. But there was plenty of game in the woods, and we could plant enough to eat. My mother used to put up preserves too. I did not realize at the time but life was sweet Riley. See, in 1906 was when my parents died. Drowned trying to cross back one night when it stormed real bad, down by the stream that runs by the Bamboo. My older sister had gone out to Memphis, all the rest were long gone. You see I was what they call nowadays a ’mistake.’”

Pawpaw gave a small chuckle.

“I had some Aunts and Uncles who lived down the mountain a couple of towns over, but it was just me in this house. You know my Daddy built this house right after the war, the civil war. Came up here and bought land on this mountain. I guess he saw orchards here or something, though he never did put much in. By the time I come along my parents were getting older. Both of ‘em sort of clung to me in a way, sheltered me something fierce. Only they didn’t see it that way, just wanted to protect me from harm. See right before I came along they lost my older brother, he was about 10, thrown from a horse. My daddy was heartbroken, never let me out of his sight after I come along.

“But then they died when I was about 19. This house was about all I had. I had stopped school after eighth grade to stay at home and help my parents. Not much work for a man back then up here then, guess there still isn’t. But I figured I could grow some stuff, hunt the rest and make it okay, despite folks worrying about me.

“Yes, there were a few folks worried about me. The women over at the church tried to get me hitched up, I was 19 after all, almost past my prime in those days. But wasn’t ready yet. I was at loose ends. Thought about going out west to see my sister, or even up north to the shipyards in Baltimore- heard you could get a good job there. But I wasn’t ready to leave this mountain just yet. No shame in saying I was kind of a lost soul Riley. I turned out alright mind you, but I had never been further than Lovingston, and there only once for a wedding. I guess you could say I was a little sheltered but I hardly knew it. I felt like the mountain was kind of a big universe. What did I know?”

The old man stopped for a moment, seemingly lost in thought. Riley was about to say something when he coughed, and the story started again…

One day I was out hunting. It was midsummer, hotter ‘n hell as they say. Thunder clouds were up in the sky, it was threatening to rain. The deer had thinned out a lot by then, but the rabbits…the rabbits were thick as thieves in the woods. In those days we didn’t have much. If you wanted to eat you had to go out and get whatever you could. I had one fairly big rabbit in my sights. I can still see it in my mind. But something spooked it right before I let go of that arrow and it took off. I followed it for a bit until I got to that grove of bamboo down by the creek at the bottom of the mountain. Do you know the one around where the road connects to the highway? Down in the hollow there. There’s huge stand of the stuff, dense as midnight.

I followed the rabbit in. Not sure even now why I did. But like I said, it was midsummer… hot. I hadn’t had meat in a week and that rabbit sounded tasty to me. I figured if I chased the rabbit through the china ticket I’d push it up on the road and into the field across from it. Be easier to get a good shot in then. Besides, the rain that had been coming began to fall. I knew if the storm got much worse the rabbit would be lost to me.

But funny thing: the more I kept pushing into the stand, the further I went, the further away from the outside I felt I was getting. The grove got taller, the bamboo closer together, it got dark and smelled like mildew. I could not see more than a few feet in front of me. The forest closed in on me. That damn bamboo grew so thick it blocked out the light on the floor. I get lost not 10 feet into that thicket.

I had completely lost track of that damn rabbit when suddenly, I fell. The ground gave way and I tumbled into the stream. I lost my footing and found myself played on my ass in the water.

I was pretty mad at getting wet and figured I might as well just go back home. I ’wasn’t too sure where the road was by then. I should have crossed it. So I scrambled up the other side of the stream. I could see sunlight and that open field on the other side. I figured I would follow the stream back to the road. I followed the stream a ways by walking on the bank, but pretty soon the bank got so steep I had to scramble onto the top. At this point here was bramble rose growing and I had to pick my way free of that.

But when I got out of the thicket into the open field I could not figure out where I’d come out of. There was no sign of the road. In front of me there was just a big clearing, a large open field and beyond that deep dark green woods. The sun was beating down, blinding me after the dark of the bamboo. It was as if the thunder storm had suddenly cleared. I figured I’d just come out further down. I saw that at the edge of the field was a series of rocks, like going up the mountain. I thought maybe I had really gotten turned around in there, come out the way I went in. But I didn’t recognize the rocks either.

Still, I thought if I could climb up the rocks a little I could get my bearing. By this point I figured I was suffering from some sort of sunstroke or something. Made me forget where I was. So I went across the field up to the rocks. I was about half way up when I heard voices. Back then weren’t too many people about these parts and it didn’t do you any good to just blunder on. Might have been revenuers—moonshiners…ill-mannered types—or something for all I knew.

So anyway I crept around the rock until I could see down in front of me. To my surprise there was the road. Although it wasn’t a part of the road I could remember. It was more a dirt path in the woods. There in front of me were about three or four men…most sitting, but one standing. Then off to the side was the strangest thing I’d ever seen: it was a bear wearing a jacket and a wide field worker’s hat. But it wasn’t a bear I had ever seen; it had light grey fur and long ears. In fact, the more I looked at it the more I thought it was some sort of rabbit.

But it couldn’t be; it was as tall as the man standing. It had to be a bear. The four men did not seem to see this huge animal behind them, so I figured it was best to be cautious. I carefully got my bow off my shoulder and pulled out an arrow. I figured I’d come down from the rocks slowly; ready to shoot the bear if I had too. As I pulled the arrow tight I heard a loud voice from behind me.

“Best put that away, stranger.”

I froze, turning around a little to see who had said that. Standing behind me, with a knife drawn, was a jet black rabbit as big as a man.

NEXT CHAPTER: http://dhrichards.blogspot.com/2014/11/chapter-2-3-of-hare-bow-and-girl.html