Eclectic Amateur

(Continued from Part 1…)

Dinner started that night was what had become the usual chaos — Mom sitting at the end of the big table with her feet up on a stool, looking tired; Dad at the other end of the table bellowing occasional questions or orders about some child’s work; and Aunt Kateri and Cousin Meg bustling around the kitchen, bringing out huge plates of food and having to make themselves heard over the din of excited children to ask Mom questions about where serving dishes or some final ingredient were hiding.  Doug kept quiet; while he didn’t really mind helping with food, the kitchen wasn’t his place and it seemed to him the best way to help was to stay out of the way until asked specifically.  With Kateri and Meg, and sisters Maddie and Lizzie already moving around the kitchen at high speed, he felt he would be underfoot – even if he was taller than all of them.
“All right, everyone, gather ‘round,” Dad called.  “Bless us O Lord, and these Thy gifts, which we are about to receive, from Thy bounty, through Christ, our Lord,” they all intoned together, and after the Sign of the Cross attacked the food.  Tonight’s feast was one of Doug’s favorites – what Mom insisted on calling “breakfast casserole,” even if they had it for dinner more often than breakfast.  It was the second-best use for stale bread that Doug knew (bread pudding was the first), and loaded with eggs, cheese, and what must be nearly the end of last fall’s sausage.  Rounding out the meal were some loaves of fresh bread, barely cool enough to be sliced, and big bowls of fresh-picked salad.
As the family chattered about the usual chores and lessons, it was fourteen-year-old Lizzie who brought up the trip:  “So Dad – we heard the transmitter is out?  Who are you taking to town with you?”
Dad chuckled.  “All theoretically, of course?  No motive at all for asking?”
Lizzie smiled at Dad, showing off her dimples, as the other children laughed.  “Who, me?  Well, just maybe I would like a chance to wear my town dress.”
“She’s just hoping to see if some boy will notice her,” suggested Michael.  That got even more laughter, while Lizzie stuck her tongue out at her brother.
“A chance to go to Mass would be nice,” added Maddie.
Dad held up his hands.  “Whoa, whoa!  Hold your horses.  Who said I was taking anyone into town?”
Lizzie looked hurt.  “You’re not going to take any of us?”
Dad went on.  Who said I was going into town?  You know how close the baby is.  And we’re  extra busy, what with apples still to pick and the last of the corn still not in.  I’ve decided to send Doug.”
Silence fell for a half-second, then died as all the kids tried to talk at once.  “No fair!” seemed to be the most common.  “That’s OK, Doug can still take me,” Lizzie attempted.
“NO.”  Doug and his father answered in unison.  “This is a business trip, Lizzie,” Dad went on.  “So, I don’t want Doug distracted with keeping track of you and any boys you might want to make eyes at.  Besides, you’re to help Meg and Kateri with the delivery.”
“That’s right, honey,” Mom added.  “You were so excited about this baby, you should stay.”
“I’m still the baby!” Jessica insisted.
“For a few more days, baby girl.  Then you get to be a big sister.”
“Big sisters are a pain in the butt.”

After dinner, cleanup, evening chores and family prayers, finally it was time for sleep.  Even though the new gin pole and block-and-tackle had taken a lot of the work out of loading the big logs, it was still took more strength than most chores, and his muscles hadn’t completely adjusted yet.  While the trip would be a good break, it also meant that he’d lose that conditioning by the time he got back.  Oh, well, TANSTAAFL, as Dad would say.
Doug shared a room with Michael, his next-youngest brother who would be turning thirteen just before Christmas.  He let Michael chatter at him about the day, grunting or answering non-committally until he ran out of steam.  Doug grabbed a book from the small bookshelf, picked up his reading light from its charger by the window, and extinguished the lamp.
“What’s Freddo up to now?” asked Michael.
“It’s ‘Frodo,’” corrected Doug.  “I’m not sure – they finally got out of the forest with that weird singing guy, and now they’re at the gate of some little settlement in the middle of nowhere.”
“Sounds like Twin Springs.”
“Nah, it’s enough bigger than us that it’s got an inn that serves beer.  And the only Little People running around Twin Springs are all the rugrats.”
“You figure out why Dad and Grandpa are crazy about this story?”
“Not yet.”
For Christmas last year, his parents and grandparents had combined to get him a copy of the new edition of The Lord of the Rings, an old 20th-century fairy tale that had recently been brought back into print.  Dad had an ancient, falling-apart copy of it in his “no children allowed!” shelf of fragile books.  He had read through it to the kids when Doug was very young, but he didn’t remember much more than that there was a magic ring that would let you rule the world, and a bunch of battles.  So far, the story involved a lot of walking through the forest, which was only so interesting.  Real life had a lot of that already.  Except that, if Yooper forests had elves, they were extremely well-hidden.
Doug opened to “The Sign of the Prancing Pony” and read until he was sure from Michael’s snoring that he wouldn’t budge until morning choretime.  Then, he put the book on the nightstand and carefully wiggled at one of the knots in the wall planking until it came out.  Reaching in, he pulled out two small objects that glittered in the light of his LED.
Not enough for a ring, he thought, but still, maybe enough to change his world.  Houghton had a State mineral office, so he should be able to get an assay done.  And then… maybe he wouldn’t have to haul logs or shear sheep anymore.

(To be continued in Part 3…)