Monday, August 30, 2021

Chapter 1: Chopping Down Trees

Google: docs, pub

In the morning, Finn worked on the door.  Catherine and Carlyle helped to hold the wooden planks for him as he hammered in the nails.  Margaret cooked breakfast.
Margaret came over every now and then to check on their progress.  “How are you coming?” she asked.
“We’ll have it as good as new,” said Finn.  “The steel beams weren’t damaged, so we can use them again.  It’s just a matter of hammering the new blanks into place.”
“I wish you weren’t going down to the forest,” Margaret said.  “Last night’s attack was a big one.”
Finn looked up from his hammering.  “You know how much I hate leaving you and the children here alone,” he said.  “But I have to go.  We need the supplies.  And if I have to go, this is the best time to do it.  We put up a good fight last night.  They always stay away for a while after they’ve been hurt.”
“How long do you think they’ll stay away this time?” asked Carlyle.
Finn looked at Carlyle and Catherine.  “You two are old enough to try to work these things out for yourselves,” he answered.  “How often do they usually attack?”
“It usually depends on how well we fought the previous time,” said Catherine.  “Maybe about once every two months?”
“After last night, I’d say we bought ourselves two months at least,” Finn said.  “But we’ll still want a strong door.  Now, help me nail this plank into place.”
After the door was built, Finn, Catherine and Carlyle moved back the boulders, took the table down, and then lifted up the new door and put it in place at the entrance to the cave.  Finn then fastened it to the side of the cave wall using rope hinges that were tied to various features of the cave wall. 
Finn stood back and admired his handiwork.  “There,” he said proudly.  “I’d like to see them try to knock that one in.”
“Be careful what you wish for,” said Margaret quietly.
Finn grumbled.  “The morning’s half gone already,” he said.  “And we were supposed to chop the wood before Brian gets here.”
“There should still be plenty of time,” Margaret said.  “And I’ll have your food waiting when you get back.  Now be careful.  Don’t strain yourself.”
Finn simply growled in response. He got his sword down from the cave wall.  It was still in its sheath, and was tied to an old rope that made a shoulder strap, so that Finn could carry the sword across his back while he walked.  Next, Finn took his ax down from the cave wall.  “Come on, then,” he said to Catherine and Carlyle.  “I’m going to need your help with this.  You know what to do.” 
They stepped outside.  There was a light covering of snow over the mountainside.  It seldom snowed heavily in the mountains, but a light covering of snow was not unusual, especially in the mornings.  But it was the wind that made the mountaintop so cold. 
Catherine rubbed her hands together to warm them up. Carlyle cupped his hands around his mouth and blew into them to keep them warm.  
“Come on then,” said Finn, pushing past them and walking outside.  “You two will warm up once we start the work.”
Carlyle and Catherine both went to get the cart.  They each grabbed one of the shafts and tugged.  The wooden wheels were stuck in the frozen ground, so it was difficult to get the cart moving.  The cart rocked forwards and backwards slightly until they gave a final heave and the wheels broke out of their rut and the cart lurched forward. 
The journey was downhill, so once the cart was moving, the challenge was to make sure it didn’t get away from them and roll down the mountain on its own.  They moved quickly to try to catch up with Finn, but they also braced their backs against the front of the cart as they led it down the slope.
Finn stopped walking as he got to the first few trees.
The mountain, although it was rocky, was also covered with trees, and it was from these trees that Finn had his living.  Finn stood next to a tall pine tree.  He unstrapped the sword from his back and laid it on the ground.  In the mountains it was always useful to keep a sword nearby, but it wasn’t always convenient to have it strapped onto your body when you were doing work.
Finn then knelt down in the snow beneath the tree.  He raised his hands up before the tree in supplication.  In a loud voice, he cried out to the tree, “Forgive me, for what I am about to do.  I must do this to survive.  If there are any spirits or other beings who have made this tree their home, tell me now in order that I may not harm you unknowingly.”  
Carlyle and Catherine looked at each other.  They always felt slightly embarrassed of their father in these moments.
After a suitable pause, Finn continued.  “If there are any spirits or nymphs in this tree, I beg your forgiveness.  I declare that I am ignorant of any beings who live in this tree.”
The ritual then completed, Finn stood to his feet. 
“Why do you always do that?” asked Catherine.
“You’ve asked me that before,” said Finn, as he gripped the ax in both hands and carefully planted his feet.  “And the answer is the same thing I told you last time.  You always need to be careful of the woodland spirits.”
“But nobody else does it,” said Carlyle.  “None of the other woodsmen in the mountains ever do it.”
Finn swung the ax, and struck the tree.  The first hit barely cut through the bark.
Finn grunted.  “None of the other people in these mountains know what I know.”
He swung again.  This time with more force.  The ax head buried itself in the wood, and Finn had difficulty pulling it out again.  He had to wiggle the handle back and forth to free the blade.
“Why do you know so much?” asked Catherine.  
There was a cynical tone in her voice.  Ever since they had become teenagers, they had started to question Finn more and more.
Finn noticed the tone, and snapped back.  “Because I’ve lived a long life.  And because I’ve lived in a lot of different places.”  He swung the ax again at the tree.  “And believe me, if these yokels up here in the mountains knew anything, they would do what I do.”  Finn knew his children were beginning to doubt him, and it worried him.  He paused from the chopping to point his finger at them.  “Don’t listen to what anyone else up here says.  You never harm a tree without first checking to see if any spirits are living in it.” 
Finn went back to chopping.  Catherine and Carlyle exchanged another glance.
“And best not to harm a tree at all if you can avoid it,” Finn said.  “The only reason I’m doing this is that we need more supplies.”
After a couple minutes, Finn stopped chopping again, but this time it wasn’t because of his children.  His hands were having trouble gripping the ax.  It was frustrating growing old.  He still had plenty of strength left in his arms, but the aches in his hand and his fingers were becoming worse. He dropped the ax to the ground, and tried to massage away the pain by grabbing one hand with the other, and rubbing his thumbs against his palms.  Finn’s hands were wrinkly and splotchy.  And gaunt.  The skin was tightly wrapped around bony knuckles and enlarged veins.  
Carlyle took a step towards him.  “Father, let me swing the ax,” he said.
But this show of filial piety did not please Finn.  “I can do it,” he growled.  “I’m not old and useless yet.”
“I know,” said Carlyle.  “But I can also do it.”
“Your job is to do the sawing,” said Finn.  “I’ll handle the chopping.”
The sharp tone of Finn’s voice made it clear that the discussion was over.  Carlyle stepped backwards to where he had been standing.  After a minute, Finn picked up the ax again.
Finn’s hands were becoming his weak point.  And although he tried to hide it, his knees were also beginning to get sore frequently.  But overall, Finn had aged fairly well.  The muscles on his arms and chest were still big, and their outline was noticeable even through the thick shirt that he wore.  His hair had turned white years ago, but it still looked full and healthy.  His face looked worn and withered, but that was normal in these parts.  At least the skin around his face looked taut instead of saggy and wrinkled.  
The thing that made Finn unique was that he didn’t have a full beard, like most of the other men in the mountains did.  This wasn’t entirely a matter of choice--for whatever reason, Finn’s face just wasn’t predisposed to grow breads.  There was some prickly white stubble that came around his chin and parts of his cheek, but it was never enough to grow a full beard.  Because the scattered whiskers looked ridiculous when they grew too long, every few days Finn shaved his face.  In between those days, he just had rough looking stubble, like he did now.
“Stand clear,” Finn said loudly.  Carlyle and Catherine moved behind Finn as the tree toppled over.
“Right,” said Finn.  “The saw’s in the cart.  You two know what to do.  Make sure the logs are long enough that I can trade them, but short  enough so that they’ll fit in the cart.”
Finn trudged down a little ways further down the mountain, and then knelt on his knees in front of the next tree.  He repeated his ritual, raising his hands again, and yelling up to the tree.  “Forgive me, for what I am about to do.  I must do this to survive.  If there are any spirits or other beings who have made this tree their home…” 
While Finn was still yelling, Carlyle walked around to the cart to get the saw out, and brought it back to Catherine.  Catherine grabbed the handle on one side, and Carlyle grabbed the handle on the other.  And then, pulling back and forth, they started sawing through the tree.
Once the air was filled with the sound of Finn’s ax chopping again, and Carlyle was sure that Finn could not hear them, he spoke.  “Where did you go yesterday?”
Catherine glanced up from the sawing to fix Carlyle with an annoyed look.  “What business of it is yours?”
“You left the group,” said Carlyle.  “You wandered off all by yourself.  I didn’t see you again until dinner time.  I didn’t want to ask you in front of mother and father, but…”
“There were things I wanted to see.”
“It’s dangerous to wander off by yourself like that.”
“I know these mountains as well as you do.  I can take care of myself.”
“Where did you go?” Carlyle insisted.
“That is my concern.  If I go off by myself, it is because I do not desire company.  If I do not tell you where I have gone, it is because you do not need to know.  Besides,” Catherine added, “I grow bored with you and Alfred and all the other boys and all the fighting and wrestling that you do.  I couldn’t care less about who wins which fights.”
“The other girls don’t seem to mind watching.  Besides, what else do you propose we do with our time?  If you have an activity you would like the group to do, you can feel free to--.”
“The group bores me.”
“Okay, but you can’t wander off by yourself like that.  It’s dangerous.  You could run into bears, wolves, goblins, witches, vampires--”
“The vampires can’t come out during the day,” said Catherine.
“Fine. Any of the rest then.  You remember what happened to Jack.”
“I remember.”
“Well be careful then.  I don’t want the same thing to happen to you.”  Catherine looked up again.  “I mean it,” said Carlyle.  “I’m not trying to be difficult, I really--.”
“Stand clear!” Finn shouted out.  Catherine and Carlyle ran several steps to the right side of the mountain slope while a second tree fell to the left.
Finn looked with disgust at how little progress Carlyle and Catherine had made.  “We’ve got two trees on the ground,” he said.  “And you’ve barely started to saw that one.  I don’t know what you two are chatting about, but you can talk later.  Concentrate on sawing for now.”
“Yes, Father,” they both answered.
“I need to get the logs loaded in the cart before noon,” said Finn, “because it will take me all afternoon to get down to--.”  
Finn stopped talking as he saw a large brown bear lumbering up the side of the mountain.  The bear saw the humans at the same time that they saw him.  The bear stood up on his hind legs and let out a loud roar.
Finn dropped his ax immediately and scrambled up the mountain to where he had left his sword.  He quickly drew the sword out of its sheath, and held it in front of him.  “We are armed,” Finn shouted at the bear.
“I wish for no trouble,” said the bear.  “I am simply returning to my home.”
“Go in peace, then,” said Finn.
The bear dropped back to four legs, and continued lumbering up the mountainside.  Finn kept the sword raised and kept his eyes on the bear until the bear disappeared out of sight.  
Once the bear disappeared, Finn turned back to his children.  “Right, let’s not spend any more time out here than we have to. The sooner we get that cart filled, the sooner I can take off.  Get back to the sawing, and I don’t want to hear any more talking until the cart is full.”

No comments:

Post a Comment