Uncertainty
washed up inside me. “I—I think so . . .”
“It
happened the time me and some of my buddies walked past the shed where food was
prepared. It was quiet. I don’t know why, but no one was there—not one guard,
not even another prisoner, only an
oversized coffee can covered by a ragged towel set near the door.
“Coffee, I
could almost taste it on my tongue and my mouth started to water. I took a deep
breath. My buddies looked at me with questions in their eyes and I knew what
they were thinking. Oh, for a swallow of real coffee, not chicory, or whatever
was they were serving; a taste of the real thing was worth solitary confinement,
or whatever they might cook up.
“I took a
deep breath and held it. Fresh meat, I could smell it. Was it coming from the
coffee can? Could it possibly be the meat we so craved?” My stomach growled and
I bent forward hoping no one had heard.
I slid the
turner underneath a patty, flipped it and smiled at him. “And then?”
“My
appetite took over my brain. I grabbed the can and towel even as I heard a yell
from a fellow prisoner. ‘They’re coming. Drop it! Get out now!
"I took a quick look into the oven to check on the scallop
potatoes bubbling out goodness and delicious smells and smiled at him. “But
instead of dropping it you shoved both can and towel underneath your shirt and
took off running like a deer.'"
“Yep, I
did. And when I did, prisoners and guards scattered every which way. When I slowed to a stop, I remember standing
alone gasping for breath in the middle of a clearing where I’d never seen
before.
“Just then
I spotted a jutted muddy road. I took a deep breath and a rancid odor almost
overwhelmed my senses. And then I saw it. A trickle of smelly water edged
towards me. The clearing was obviously a drain field from an ancient septic
tank.
“At the
same moment I heard a shout and the blast of a gun and knew the guards were
getting closer. I was almost out of time. I scrambled forward and fell to my
knees in front of the drain pipe. Using
my hands I pushed aside rocks and mud, then shoved the can inside the drain
opening covering it with grass and reeds.
‘”I stood
and when I did I saw them comin’ straight towards me. I took a staggering step
in their direction then shook my head as I pointed toward the foul mud.
‘Smells,’ I shouted as I grabbed my nose.
Dirty water. Slimy white things, nasty bugs, crawdads too. It’s crawlin’
with them.’
“The horror
of their gaze raked over me even as they slowly backed away. ‘We no touch,’ one
shouted. ‘Away, away!’”
“’We bring
water. Much water,’ another shouted.
“And then I
knew. My can of food was safe and so was I. It even sounded like I might get
some soap and water. Maybe even a fresh set of clothes.”
“But you
didn’t get them did you?” I covered the
burgers with a lid and adjusted the heat beneath the bubbling corn down a
notch.
“No. The
soap and water, yes. But I suspect they burned my clothes. Sadly the clothes they
gave me as replacements weren’t quite so warm as our old ones were.
“But I
still had the meat hidden in the drain pipe. Several of us banded together and
we’d slip out to the clearing under cover of darkness. We did the best we could
to make our find stretch by gathering greens during the day and slipping them
into our pockets. Once we were in the clearing we made a tiny fire near the
drain pipe where we cooked pieces of hamburger mixed with the greens in a
helmet. At other times we fried them into delicious patties. Even the grease
tasted wonderful.
“We were
careful to take turns using our helmets as a cooking bowl though. We didn’t
want the guards to notice just one helmet getting slowly darker and darker from
much use. I must say the meat from the can added a special touch to our
repasts.”
“Sort of
like the Swiss family Robinson,” I mused. “They ate almost everything in
sight. Except they thrived and you
didn’t.”
“But I
survived,” he said, and the light went out of his eyes.
I swallowed
hard, and then changed the subject. “Dinner’s ready. Could you please call the
kids while I get it on the table?”
He didn’t
answer. Did he even hear me?
My stomach
wrapped into a knot.
I tried
again. “Beth, Dow, Clytie and Mark. Could you tell them dinner’s ready? They’re
out back creating roads in the dirt. When I went out earlier Dow was digging a
tunnel while Mark stacked a pile of twigs into a miniature mountain. Clytie had
a knife and spoon from the kitchen to create roads while Beth picked, then
planted Johnny-Jump-Ups and fern fronds all along the sides of the road.”
“Funny you’d say that. We ate them
you know, tender fern fronds, yellow violets, that’s what we called your
Johnny-Jump-Ups.” He reached out his
hand to me. “Let’s go get the kids together. I want to see what they’ve created
with my own eyes. It might even help me put down a few of those memories that
keep springing up from the past.”
We smiled
at each other as we went outside hand in hand, each step a thought, each
thought a prayer.
Lord, give
us wisdom and help us to help one another.
Then words from Proverbs 2:6-7 whispered
into my heart. The Lord gives wisdom . . . He lays up sound wisdom for the
righteous; he is a shield to those who walk uprightly.
