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