#16
Mark patiently showed Robbie several times how he wanted the youngster to skin and clean the rabbit. Robbie slipped back into little kid mode and was whining. Several times Mark thought he heard an out of place noise, but the continuous chatter and drivel flowing out of Robbie's mouth made it impossible to hear.
Finally Mark was positive they were being watched and he hissed angerly at Robbie to "shut up."
Robbie turned around to ask why, and his eyes got real big when he noticed the tall, burley man walking out of the woods toward them. A throwback to the mountain man of yore, the tall, well muscled man was covered with clothes made of fur pelts.
For once, Robbie kept his mouth shut, but he sidled around Mark to be out of the line of fire.
"Welcome stranger," Mark greeted the dark haired man. "We are getting ready to cook a rabbit stew. Come sit a spell and have a cup of coffee."
The man flicked his eyes over his two hosts and gave a short nod, walking close to the small hot fire to squat down and wait.
"Get busy," Mark ordered Robbie. "It's gonna take an hour to cook that meat, much longer and you're going to bed hungry. I'm real tired of your stalling and purposeful delays, I'm not going to dress that rabbit, no matter how much you delay."
Robbie wanted to borrow Granddad's knife, but he decided he'd better use his own.
"He's worthless, where'd you get him?" the visitor challenged Mark. "If he were my kid, I'd give him a whipping if he couldn't keep his mouth shut."
Robbie paused as he slit the inner leg skin, in preparation to pull the hide off the rabbit. Listening to the flat cold words, gave him the shivers.
"He's my grandson, but your right; we would have been dead several times over, the way he was slobbering. I thank you for not ambushing us." Mark passed the man Robbie's cup full of coffee, and settled back to watch and inspect the newcomer.
"I ain't had coffee in a lengthy spell; I appreciate this more than you know." The man looked unsmiling at the pre teen boy, shaking his head at the foolishness of the young man.
For his part, Robbie paid strict attention to his task, finishing the skinning and evisceration of the rabbit as quickly as possible, sluicing it off in a pan of water, cutting it up, and placing it carefully in the boiling water of the small dutch oven.
"I'm Chuck Nolan, and you are?" The mountain man took a small cautious sip of the hot liquid.
"Mark Linderman, and my grandson Robbie."
"Well Robbie, I hope you know you would be dead by now, if I had been a man with evil intent. You're real stupid boy, I don't know if it's worth your kin's effort to train you. Do you understand that I could have killed your grandfather and made you into a slave. Real easy like, so's you had better get smart in a hurry."
Robbie was so scared, he could only nod.
"Robbie, you have manners, I expect a 'yes Sir' out of you, when you are told something." Mark scolded with a scowl.
There was a meek and barely audible 'yes Sir' from the young man, and he bent over to stir the contents of the stew pot.
Mark nodded, and turned to the visitor. "Welcome to our fire Chuck; I'm interested in knowing if you have come from the North. We are scouting our way up into Iowa."
"I thank you for the hospitality and meal," Chuck smiled and relaxed for the first time. "I have come from the North, Sioux Falls, as a matter of fact. I'm curious, most everyone is fleeing to the South, and here you want to go North."
"A couple of reasons," Mark replied, all the while keeping a strict eye on Robbie. "We are actually from the West, but have been living in North Carolina and we are sick and tired of the heat and humidity. Besides, we hope to find farm land that can be homesteaded."
"Iowa isn't exactly free of heat and humidity," the oversized man chuckled, "There are some places that are up for grabs, but a great deal of the people around the larger cities are Midwest Christians; so there are populated areas with a good many people."
"Well, Praise the Lord for that," Mark was happy to find there were people living in the guidelines of the Lord. "I was beginning to wonder if the devil had gathered up most everybody. We certainly have had a hard time finding people of moral standards, as a person would expect to find from surviving Christians. What sort of work did you do before the 'cleansing'" Mark inquired.
Chuck gave a short laugh, "I was the lead mechanic for a diesel repair shop, fairly useless as a trade in today's world."
Mark nodded his agreement, "I'm an electrical engineer, even more useless." he said with a depreciating laugh. "We are however a godly clan, following the rules of life as set forth by Jesus and the Bible. We mean no harm, just passing through to find a place to settle in and farm."
"My grandpop and Dad were farmers, I farmed some, but had to find a way to make a living to support my family. So I went to school and became a mechanic. My older brother got the farm, and he's barely hanging on. He was so used to having fancy big tractors and new combines, he is scared and panicked, not doing well with the new ways of living."
Chuck took another drink of coffee, "I think you have the right idea, heading up into Iowa to find farms. For ten cents, I'd go along to help you get started," there was such a wistful quality to the visitor's voice.
Mark wasn't ready to have the man become a life long friend, not until he knew more about the large mountain man.
"You said you had a family, are they close by, have them come in and share our food," Mark invited.
Chuck shook his head negatively. "My wife and kids didn't make it through the wind. I don't know how I could have been married to that woman for so long and have her fool me about being saved. She swore she had been saved as a kid, and that our daughters were saved; but she's gone, so I guess she wasn't. My girls are gone also. I've had a lot of time to think and reason out the why's that God didn't consider them saved. And, I still don't understand. I have accepted God's Will, but have to take that on faith."
Mark nodded, and motioned to Robbie to stir the stew. "I'm sorry to hear that," he commiserated. "Robbie, how is that meat looking?"
"It's starting to fall off the bone Granddad, I think we can eat it now." and the youth took his knife and speared a leg and thigh and used a spoon to fill the rest of the two bowls with broth, Mark watched as Robbie correctly favored their guest with the most choicest pieces and held the salt shaker for the visitor to flavor his stew.
"Thank you," Chuck used the salt and held his bowl, waiting for Mark to say the blessing.
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