Will
diverted from his elk-stealing and the pirated meat recovered, work progressed
on the filling of the racks, smoker soon full and Bud and Roger stepping away
to lash together a third drying rack, seeing that they had more meat slices
than rack space, as things stood. Quite
a supply it would be, by the time they got it all done. The smoker fire they would not light until
after dark, Einar not wanting to risk such a smoke signature by daylight and the
meat, he knew, quite capable of beginning to dry all on its own, even in the
absence of the warmth and smoke of the fire.
Wanting to prevent the raven from so easily robbing the racks, he began
skewering the meat on spare willow wands whose ends he sharpened to ease the
task, sticking these into the lashing which held together the racks.
Einar
worked quietly beside Liz, each simply enjoying the presence of the other, no
words needed. Spring, things coming
alive, budding, waiting, wanting to burst forth in a riot of green, new life
reaching for the sun, and Einar felt it, too.
Wanted it. Wanted life. Was interrupted in his quiet musings by Bud,
who had finished assembling his new rack and rejoined the group gathered around
the current project.
“So. About
comin’ down with us when we go. Given it
any more thought?”
“No.”
“You’d
be just what we need though, Asmundson, with things picking up momentum down
there and folks getting serious about resistance to the way things are going,
politically. If you don’t think you’re
cut out for leadership—a point on which you know the two of us disagree—you
could always train. Teach. You know, like you did during your SERE days.”
“SERE?” Liz asked.
“Survival,
Evasion, Resistance and Escape. This
wayward fella of yours never told you about that? About how he spent several years teaching
after stepping away from his job with the travel agency, or wherever the heck he
worked after coming back from Rhodesia?”
“No,
he never told me. Travel agency? What…?”
“Huh. Figured he would have told you. Yeah, travel agency or something. Sure did travel a lot, anyhow. All over the world, real fast-paced life, five
or six different passports... Right, Asmundson?
“Don’t
know what you’re talking about, Kilgore.”
“Ha! That’s right.
You know nothing. Nothing at
all... You know, for a guy who’s spent
years on the run downing federal helicopters, blowing stuff up doing all manner
of other unconventional and downright illegal things to avoid capture over that
time…well, you sure do take that ancient Nondisclosure Agreement of yours
seriously, don’t you?”
Einar
shrugged, turned away before the tracker could see the hint of a smile that crept
across his face. Did seem a bit ironic,
come to think about it… But he’d never
minded a bit of irony in his life.
“Well,”
Kilgore boomed, “guess you’ll just have to ask him about it, sometime, since he
won’t talk about it with us ‘intruders’ about.
But, back to SERE. That isn’t a
secret. We can talk about that, can’t
we, Asmunson?”
Einar
shrugged again, set another completed skewer on the nearest drying rack and
busied himself with filling a third.
Didn’t particularly like Kilgore’s line of questioning, this delving
into a past whose details he did not always like to recall. The tracker seemed to get the hint, for once,
and let the matter drop, though Einar knew he hadn’t heard the last of any of
it.
For
the remainder of the afternoon the four of them worked away, all racks filled
with elk strips before the sun set and a fire prepared and ready to light in
the smoker as darkness approached. Will
spent a fair amount of time on his mother’s back and on Susan’s, adding his own
lively commentary to the conversation as everyone worked.
Evening,
smoker started, supper eaten and everyone retreating to tent and shelter, with
the exception of Einar, who was taking the first watch with the smoker, adding
wood when necessary to keep the process going through the night, and Liz, who
after feeding Will and getting the child tucked snugly into the sleeping bag,
decided to join him.
“So,
tell me about these survival and evasion classes you taught, that Bud mentioned. That sounds like an interesting job.”
“Yeah,
it was an interesting job alright. Was kind
of refreshing after the jungle, and Rhodesia, and then the assignment I took
after coming back from Africa, the ‘travel agency’ job Bud kept trying to get
me to talk about. It was awfully
interesting, too, but at times felt like I was fighting another losing war,
another one that the political powers-that-be had already decided we would be
losing… SERE was different. I knew that each of those guys I helped to
train would have a far better chance of coming through…well, a situation like the
one I’d faced in the jungle, if they ever encountered such, after the training
was complete. That was something real,
something solid that nobody could take away from them, and I was glad to be a
part of it.”
“So,
it was mostly survival training? Skills
like you’ve taught me, out here?”
Einar
laughed softly, a sound like the wind in dead-dry oak leaves, nearly devoid of
humor. “Oh yeah, there was a lot of
that. Lot of other stuff, too. We had to prepare them for what they would
face if the evasion part didn’t work out, and they ended up being captured,
too. I was good at that part, because I’d
been there. The interrogations. Too good, maybe, but nobody said so at the
time. In fact, I ended up running that
part of the courses more often than not, because they knew I would keep it true
to life. We tried to keep everything
very real, replicate situations as well as we could, prepare people…
“Your
fellow instructors…did they know that part of what you’d been through in the
jungle?”
“Oh,
no. Not sure I could have done it if
they’d known. At that time…well, think I
was pretty good at keeping everything stashed away in separate little boxes in
my mind, as far as the memories and my own experience. Keeping it real separate from the present,
almost like it had been someone else back there in that cage. Was the only way I could keep it together,
doing work like that. There were people
who knew, of course, which is part of what got me the job, but they weren’t the
ones I was working with every day.”
“It
was weird sometimes, because a lot of the training is based off of the
experiences of people who’d been captured and held in various conflicts,
interrogated, and sometimes that would get talked about, but I never let them
know, never talked about my own experiences, though I’m pretty sure some of the
guys must have guessed. We did have to
test the scenarios, we instructors, some of us standing in for the students to kind
of get things refined and ready for them, and after a while I ended up being
the one everything was tested out on, all these different…interrogation
techniques, because everyone knew I could take it. Would take it. Interesting times.”
“Einar…”
She was quiet for a minute, held him tight where they leaned together
against an aspen beside the smoker tent.
“What do you think about all of that, now? Do you think it was a good idea?”
“Sure
it was. Sure. Was doing something worthwhile. Just like I am now…” And he was asleep.
Thanks FOTH:
ReplyDeleteThis conversation represents the highest point so far in Einar's struggle with his past. Hard to wright isn't it?
Mike
aka
Flokie
Yes sir, hard to write.
DeleteThank you.
Thank you.
ReplyDeleteElsa
Thank you, Elsa.
DeleteI check every day for updates :) Love love this story...I can never get enough !
ReplyDeleteThank you so much Foth !
Thank you, Sonja. Sorry for the long delay between chapters. I was on the road, long trip, glad to be back in my mountains now. :)
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