Heileen - Ch. 3

Chapter Three

It was my favorite book.  A book of notes and verses.  Not rhyming poetry; short poems and thoughts mainly – words of wisdom written by mother.   Mom had always liked to write, and a large number of poems had collected in and on her desk until Pa had decided to have them bound and published.   He had some copies made for the family and friends, and had handed them out as a Christmas gift.   One of them had been for me. I was then twelve and have cherished the book ever since.  I never left home without it.  I used to carry it with me on holidays or school trips.   It sits now – battered by use and with company – on the shelf above the fireplace at my house.  Mom had written a dedication on the first page.  It read:

“To my one and only daughter – May the sun always shine and Life be kind to you.”

The sun was shining all right, but I doubted life was being kind to me!  For the first time since running away I felt all the weight of my decision, together with its implications.  And I felt utterly alone.

“Behold the stillness of the storm

And the clamor of respite.

So that when your heart leaps,

Your mind will harness it.”

Mostly, I felt I could not keep the secret much longer.   It weighted on me since the middle of May.   I had not told anyone, not even Trisha.   Not even Paul.   We’d been going steady for almost a year before we decided it was time to strengthen our relationship.   Well, strengthen it we did!   Our recklessness would become evident quite soon; until then I had resolved not to think about it.  I wanted to be my old self for a while longer – to remain the cheerful girl I’d always been.  I would have enough time later to sober up and take care of… well – whatever was coming, I guess.

So this was the real reason.  Of course my parents’ decision to leave would have upset me at any moment, but now it was even worse; I had a boyfriend and we had something together.   The feeling hit me like a real blow.   I missed him so much – had not even said goodbye to him.

We were not in the same class; he was a year older than I, and high school would be over for him in a few days.   He hadn’t decided yet what to do afterwards, which meant that he would probably remain on the land – to help with the running of the farm – as one of his brothers had done before him.  Being the daughter of a landowner myself, I liked the idea of being the girlfriend of a farmer.   He was tall, lightly built but not lanky.  His eyes were dark deep pools: you would do anything for those eyes.

Even get pregnant at sixteen.  There – I had finally said it.   I had not said those words yet, not even to myself.  What would I do?  What could I possibly do that would not change my life altogether, and the one of those around me?  So I had kept my mouth shut, and the secret had gone unchallenged.   He had not noticed anything, of course – how could he?   He was so taken by me, by life in general – by the simple fact of being seventeen and having the world at his feet.   At that age you feel you can do anything, or chose to do nothing special and still be someone because of it.

We had met at a school party more than a year ago.   I had blushed when he had asked me to dance, and was relieved when I noticed that he, too, was a poor dancer.   But he was holding me as if he would never let me go, and so we had danced until the party was over.   After that he had asked me out on a date from time to time, more frequently as the days passed.   Sometimes he would come up the road to our farm before school, and we would walk there together.   Lately, though, because of the final exams, I had not seen him in the mornings.   I had hoped to see him the day I’d run away.  Maybe we could have worked something out together.

About four months ago we had celebrated our first anniversary.   That’s when I had gone to the wood without my parents’ permission.   We had taken some fruit and a bottle of apple juice with us, and we had made a toast with it.   And he had told me that he was ready for more; he had made it clear that it was not just a question of sex.  He loved me truly and deeply, and that’s why he wanted to make love to me.  I had been afraid at first.   You hear so many things – how you should wait for Mr. Right; how boys won’t look at you in the same way when they find out you’ve done it already; the ever present danger of getting pregnant.   In his defense I must say it did not take him long to convince me, and so one night he stole away from his house and came to me.  We met in the barn, I having climbed down the pipe from my window.   He was tender and caring, and cradled me in his arms before and after.  

We’d met in this way every week since.   As a game, it was never on the same night, so that I would never know in advance when he would come.   When he did come, he would walk under my bedroom window as soon as he was sure there was no danger, and would throw a small stone or make some light noise.   I was always waiting for him.  I knew that, if he didn’t come before a certain hour at night, then he would not come at all and I could go to sleep.   And of course we’d meet at school and otherwise during the day – at some friend’s house or in town.   The town was somewhat distant, and we didn’t go there frequently; but the school was close to it, and a lot of friends lived there, too.  

The last time I had seen him was five days ago.   Since this was his last year in high school, classes were over for him, and he did not have to go to school until next week for his final exams.   That’s why I hadn’t had a chance to say goodbye.   He had come to me on Tuesday, and we had made love in the barn as always.   It was hard for us not to be able to see each other more frequently, but this increased our passion – and we were happy for that.

Of course I would have to tell him about the baby soon.   I kept telling myself that it was the fruit of our love, and that – although the situation was not the proper one – we would manage.  I thought he would be happy to become a father – although it was very early; one of his brothers had gotten married two years ago and at the end of last year they had had a baby girl.  He was very fond of his niece and kept speaking about her.  But sometimes I was afraid that he didn’t want to manage.   What if he didn’t want to have anything to do with it?   He might get scared – like I was – and decide not to take responsibility.   And I did not want to press him.   Of course everybody in school knew we were steady; our families knew that, too.   It would be clear that the baby was his.   But I did not want a forced marriage.   I wanted him to be free to make his decision as I had made mine the day we had made love the first time.  

“Enjoy every single day

And delight in your happiness

But do not shun sorrow:

It’ll stalk you forever”

A child is reason for joy, not sorrow.  And if fate had decided to give me one now, then who was I to question destiny?    I would raise my baby – possibly with the man I loved – and be happy for it.

As the last rays of the sun disappeared, I squinted at the book in my hands:

“Don’t cry over broken toys or fret about your misbehavior. 

Remember that Mom and Dad will always be there for you.”

            This had clearly been written for me; there had been a number of situations that could have inspired such lines.  I closed the book and ate a second apple. Then I rose, put on some additional clothing, wrapped myself in the jacket, and sat in the hollow, teddy bear on my lap.  

            I would have liked very much to be able to go to my parents and tell them everything; sometimes I thought I would burst if I did not tell them.   But I was so uncertain!  What if they did not want me to keep the baby?   I was too young to think about abortion, but I certainly knew about adoption – a friend in school had been adopted – and I did not want that!  And they might get very upset with me.   I was afraid they would feel I had shamed them with my behavior.   What if they did not want to have anything to do with me anymore?  

            So time had passed and I had kept silent, until the day in which I was told we had to leave and change our life completely.   Well – I was not ready to change it that way!  It was going to be changed already by what I had done; let it be at least in my environment, with the people and things I loved. 

            I fell asleep almost immediately – I had been very tired after all – and slept good part of the night.   When I awoke – stiff and cold as always – I was caught by a sudden restlessness to get going.   It was too dark outside, though, to be able to do anything, so I just waited.   When the sun finally rose, I stumbled out of the tree and proceeded to collect my belongings.  Not that I had many right now!   I packed everything in my backpack, took the bottle and the last apple, and went to the stream.   The fish smelled, so I threw them away and resolved to catch some more as soon as I arrived at the tree where I had to turn left towards the cave.   I washed as well as I could and then drank and refilled my water bottle.   Then I started walking on the left side of the stream, nibbling at the apple as I went.

            The rising sun warmed me, and – as the stiffness went slowly away – I made my way faster downstream.  I had been walking for almost the hour it should have taken me to reach the tree, when I heard somebody call.   I ran to the left and hid among the trees.   The sound was far away, coming from the west.   My heart began racing.   Was that it?   Had they finally found me?   My flight hadn’t lasted long then!   I tried to hide as well as I could, at the same time keeping an ear out   for the sound of voices.

            The call was repeated over and over and – as it drew nearer – I realized it was my name being called.   It was a male voice, and there seemed to be only one – if there were more pursuers, they were keeping silent.   All at once a figure materialized on the other side of the stream.   My heart missed a beat then, and I barely kept myself from coming out of hiding. 

            It was Paul.   He stood there, in the light of the sun, squinting in my direction and calling my name.    He repeated the name dozens of times; it looked as though a hunch or something was keeping him there.  He wavered for a while, unwilling to go on.   There really seemed to be nobody with him.   He must have stood there for at least five minutes – I would had seen the others by now had there been any. 

So I stood out of the shelter of the trees and walked into the light.   I don’t know what made me do it – maybe the memory of those eyes.  It took some time for him to realize somebody was standing on the other side of the stream; I think the sun was blinding him.   He ran towards me, crossing the stream as well as he could, splashing water all around and getting wet in the process.   He stopped a few feet away to face me.   I must have looked like a scarecrow to him – the result of three days’ hiding in the wood.   He had an astonished and at same time stricken look on his face.         

“Is it really you?  Honey, I…”

He did not finish the sentence.   We ran into each other’s arms.  The force of the impact almost threw us on the ground, and we gladly surrendered to it.  We rolled for a while, kissing and hugging each other.   All my worries – my darkest fears – had melted away that very minute.   Then he finally released me.   We sat on the turf, speechless.

“Are you alone?  Is somebody else coming?”  

I must have looked really worried, because he hastened to reassure me that he was alone.   People were looking for me, but were far away to the north.   Nobody had probably thought I could be this far out.    Mother and Father had guessed the reason I had run away and had decided to give me some time to work things out.   They were sure I would go back by myself.   After the second night, though, they had started to really worry, and on the third day they had begun looking for me with the help of friends.   They had gone to his house the previous night – to see if he knew anything about it.   And today he had decided to come looking for me.   It had been hard for him to leave the house without anybody noticing, and would have to go back soon, lest they discover him.   But why was I here?  Why had I run away?

And so I told him everything.  How I had come home and had heard the news of our leaving; how I had planned everything during the night and had told only Trisha because he wasn’t at school.   I told him about how much I had missed him and how I was afraid of losing him.   I buried my head in his chest and started sobbing.   He stroked my hair lightly, murmuring endearments.   So I raised my head to look him in the eyes and told him.

“I will have a baby.  Our baby.”

He was silent then – a look of bewilderment on his handsome face.   I could see worry and uncertainty, pride and … happiness?   Mastering his emotions at last, he rose to his feet, pulling me up with him.  He stepped back a pace, and – holding me at arm’s length – he looked at me deep in the eyes. What I saw was determination.

“I will stand by you.   Always.  Because I love you”.  

My head was spinning then; I must have looked rather faint, because he picked me up in his arms and carried me closer to the water, with which he sprinkled my face.   He took a small package out of his pockets; there was some cheese in it, and I ate it gratefully.   I hadn’t realized how hungry I really was.  I had gone without food for a day, with the exception of three apples and some fish, and my stomach was rumbling softly.  

While I was eating he told me of a place in the wood.  It was a cabin some relatives of his had built long ago.   Nobody used it now except on occasions – when his father went hunting and had to spend a night out, for instance.   That’s why there was always some food there.  He suggested he accompany me there, and then go back home.   He would come to me in the night, and we would decide then what to do.

And so we got up and started walking.   The cabin lay to the north, away from the main road – which ran northwest – but on a path.  We would have to be careful and keep our eyes open.   We retraced my steps to the hollow tree, and I told him how I had found it and used it these past nights.   I told him also about the pond and the cave, and how I was planning to live there.   As we walked farther north, we were careful of sounds and proceeded with caution.   We found the path towards midday.   It was disused but still visible, and large enough that a car could be driven along it.   We turned west then and walked for not more than a quarter of an hour. 

He opened the door; went in to control nobody was there, and then left me – with the promise to come back as soon as possible.   He told me to shut the door and remain inside.  And then he was gone down the path.

Heileen - Ch. 2

Chapter Two

The sun finally came up. As a strip of light made its way through the opening, I got out.  I found out then that the entrance was not in the shade at all – at least not all day long.  It was facing east, and the sun rising behind the trees on the other side of the stream made my heart leap up!  I grabbed an apple and went down to the stream.  Although my body still needed warmth, it felt good to dip my hands in the water.  It was reviving.  I sat down next to it, and started to exercise.  Can you imagine: me – who’s always hated the idea of getting into a room for the sake of gymnastics!  But of course this was not a room in a school, and if I didn’t like P.E. lessons at all, on the other hand, I had always loved being out in the open, surrounded by Nature, and the feeling of being in good shape.  I resolved that, if I did manage to let a few days pass without being discovered, then I would take the time to run around, climb trees and do all the things that would make my body feel well. I just needed to feel safe.  I started munching at the apple and making plans.  My spirits had risen considerably, and I felt better than I’d felt in days.  The novelty of the place and of my situation was spurring me on.  But I needed to have it all well thought-out.

After eating the apple, I carefully hid its core in the dirt and stood up.  I then crossed the stream by stepping on some rather convenient stones and began climbing up the other side.  There the trees were closer together, and little light was coming in.  It was cooler than by the riverbed, but I had warmed up by now.  I was going farther away from the house, and I felt confident in walking away from the tree, too, because the rucksack would be well hidden in there.    With all the thinking I had done the night before, I now let my mind wander, without paying much attention to what came to it.  I was just walking, rejoicing in the beauty of the day, the sweetness of the air, and – later – the warmth that the rays of the sun, now stronger, were carrying.  The wood was alive, and I wanted to experience the most of it. 

I was watching with interest a couple of squirrels run up the tree in front of me, when a sharp cracking sound from behind forced me to stop in my tracks.   I hid behind the tree, and looked in the direction of the sound.  Some other squirrels ran past me, oblivious of my presence and – it seemed to me – not at all scared.   This reassured me a little, but I would have to be more careful in the future!  So I started thinking of my situation again.  Since I had wandered quite some way from the tree, I resolved to keep walking until noon, keeping an ear out for the sounds of possible pursuers, while looking for a more permanent place to hide.  And – of course – while looking for food.  If I thought about it, I could still feel the dismay of the previous night, when my prospects had seemed rather bleak.  I needed more warm clothing and a blanket.  Could I risk going back to the house?  Not for a few days.  When I had planned all this, I had actually considered going back sooner or later, but that would be after my parents had moved; that meant waiting for at least another six days, provided they would go as planned even without me.   I thought that was rather likely if they did not want to lose their jobs, but that would also mean that the house would be locked, and with it, my bedroom window.   But no – now I remembered!   Of course the house could not be locked up!  We had animals that needed to be taken care of.  Surely they had thought of somebody who could do that, maybe living there, too.   And then the door wouldn’t be shut. Or – even if these people did not live there, then the place would be deserted at night, and I would have enough time to break in, and take what I needed.     Why hadn’t I thought of hiding things in the barn?   I could have done that during the night, and then it would have been so much easier.   Yes, I had been naïve – if not dumb altogether – and I felt I was going to regret it sooner or later.  

Well, since thinking of warmer clothing or blankets was not going to be of any help, I might try seriously to look for food.   Since I had not taken the sandwiches with me, I would have to either hunt or fish.  I did not want to set any snares.   This would take time, and the people looking for me could easily detect them.   Moreover, I did not think I would stay here long enough for them to be of any help.   I had the sling with me, though; I never left the house without it, and had gotten into trouble at school more than once because of it.   If I could catch a squirrel or a bird, I would then just have to light a fire….  

I was still trying to recollect how to light a fire with sticks when I arrived at a clearing.   This one was different than the one close to the hollow tree.  It was more alive with birds and small animals and had a different smell.   I soon realized I had come very close to a pond, and the dampness of the area accounted for the strange sensation.   There were many ducks on the water, and I saw plenty of fish swimming in it.   The presence of birds and fish meant that I would not have to skin an animal – provided I caught it first, of course.  I had never done that before, and was very much afraid I would not be able to, with the small jack-knife I carried   (this had gotten me into even more trouble than the sling).   There were many pebbles on the edge, and I collected some, which I stuffed into the pockets of my skirt.   Then I took out my sling, chose a round pebble, aimed at a duck and – whoosh! – away flew the pebble and all the ducks together.   They eventually settled back on the water, and I was able to aim again and again, until I finally managed to hit one.   I was so excited I cried out, remembering too late I was supposed to keep quiet.  Besides, with all the racket the hunted ducks were making, I doubt my cry would make any difference! I had caught the duck on the right wing, and it could not fly away.   I undressed, stepped into the water and dived closer.   It kept flapping its wings, trying to escape, but managed only to move in circles.  I grabbed it by the feet, and swam ashore.   I set it down, wondering if I would ever have the courage to kill it, and started to put my clothes back on.   They stuck to my body because of the water, and I realized, that – duck or no duck – I would really have to light a fire.   The animal in question was looking at me.  It had given up trying to fly away, but it could still walk – I suppose it was just too afraid to do so at the moment.   I undid a string from my shoes and used it to tie its feet.   With that taken care of, I took some time to collect sticks.  I had to walk away from the pond, to where the grass was much drier, and so was the wood lying around.   I then made myself comfortable – my legs bent under me – and prepared everything as Pa had shown me.   It took ages to even get it right, and much much more to see a whiff of smoke rise from the dry leaves I had used as kindling.   If I could just make it burn without extinguishing it…

I sat back holding my hands above the flames.   It had worked!  I felt worn out; I was not cold, nor did I feel wet anymore.  Only then did it occur to me that it must really have passed a lot of time.   I glanced at the watch: four o’clock.   I had been careless again.   I could retrace my steps to the hollow tree, of course, but I doubted I could get back before sunset, as much as I doubted I could find the way in the dark.   And I hadn’t eaten yet.   I went back to retrieve the duck.   Unable to move, it had sat there all this time, but it seemed to have recovered some strength and – what’s more – the wing didn’t look broken at all.   It would actually flap both its wings from time to time, trying to fly away.   So I released it.   Much as I was hungry, I had been thinking about it while lightning the fire.   I had never killed an animal – had always loved them – and I felt I could not do it.   Maybe given some time, when I would really need to kill something in order to survive.  Maybe with a fish it would be easier.

Now that I had a fire, and there was no chance of going back to the tree and the sandwiches, I resolved I would try to catch a fish.  I went back to the drier area to check: the fire was burning and didn’t seem in need of immediate attention.   So I picked a stick and sharpened one of the ends with my knife. I was warmer; my hair – which was short to start with – had dried out, and I felt all right.   I went back to the pond, removed my shoes and my socks, and set to the task of catching fish with a stick.   The fish were big and slow, absolutely not afraid of coming within inches of my feet.   Some even ventured to pick on them, curious.   I had to learn by trial-and-error; it was hard to gauge the distance because of the distorting effects of the water and the deceitful rays of the sun, now on my back.   After a while, though, my efforts were rewarded, and a sizeable silvery fish wriggled from the stick.   I removed it, banged it on its head, and put it aside.  Now that I had learnt, I wanted more.  I caught two more fish in this way.  At the end I cleaned them, stuck them back on the stick, and returned to the fire, collecting more wood on the way.

The place were I had built the fire was at the edge of the clearing, next to the trees that would shelter me during the night.   The warmth from the fire was so nice I indulged for a while in the idea of keeping it up until morning, but I did not dare do that, lest I be discovered.  So I hastened to cook the fish before the sun set.   It felt like camping, and I could actually envision my family and myself doing that.   It had never happened.  My father was the practical type, and although he felt I should know how to care for myself, we’d never put my knowledge to the test.  Life could be uncomfortable enough by itself if you didn’t work hard; there was no need to make it more uncomfortable by going camping.  I ate two of the fish, wrapping the third one in a large leaf, and hastened to put out the fire.   I felt sorrow to see it go – it had taken so much to light!  I covered the ashes as carefully as possible, retrieved the fish and stepped into the thicket in the direction I had come from.   The sun was just setting.

I did not walk far for fear of losing myself.  I just wanted to be away from the clearing and surrounded by trees.      I found a spot sheltered by a slight incline, wrapped myself as well as I could in my jacket, and set to spend my second night alone in the wood.  Eating had made me feel better, and the pungent smell of the fire on my clothes was soothing.   I remembered how we used to spend winter nights by the fireplace at our house.  Mom would cook dinner and after that I would help to clear the table.  Pa would sit on the rug in front of the fireplace, and we would sit next to him.  He would then start telling stories to pass the time.  He said it reminded him of the old days, when there was no television and people used to spend the evening like that.   I usually ended up falling asleep with my head on his lap, and they would have to carry me to my bed.

Tomorrow I would try and catch some more fish, although – now that I thought about it – there must be some also in the stream next to the hollow tree.   I would then return to it, and – if there was time – start walking in another direction.   I still had to find a better place to stay.   This time, though, I would not make the same mistakes.  I would carry my pack with the food, the water (although the pond had been clear, its water had not tasted as good as the stream’s), and the extra clothes.   There was no point in leaving behind something that, should I find the right place, I would then have to go back to retrieve.   And I would look at my watch to make sure I would not have to spend another night outside.   I eventually fell asleep thinking of Windy, and whishing I had him here to hug.  

I slept fitfully and woke up in the morning with a healthy appetite.   I was also stiff with cold, but counted on the sun to warm me up later.   I ate the fish.   I did not taste as good as the day before, and I had nothing to gulp it down with, but   it was OK.  I then dug a hole to hide the remains of my breakfast and walked back to the pond.   The sun was up and warm.   Thank God for another beautiful day!  I did not dare think what I would do in bad weather…   The fire had darkened my stick – I had used it as a skewer.  I was starting to look for a new one when I remembered that fire was supposed to harden wood.   And so it was that I caught four more fish, spiked them back onto the stick and made my way to the hollow tree.   Before going, though, I made sure I drank plenty of water, as I had no means of carrying it.

 I walked back in the direction I had come the day before, but after an hour (I did remember to check the time) I decided to make a detour: if I headed south for a while – that is if I turned left – and eventually turned west again, I should find the stream sooner or later.   I would then be able to follow it to the hollow tree.   This would allow me to see another part of the wood – retracing my steps was of no real use.  So I walked pleasurably for another hour or so.   The wood was unchanged, except for the fact that, after a while, it started sloping down again.   That made sense.   My house had been built on top of a hill, and was surrounded by the wood, with the exception of the area – northwest of the house – where the road was and, on it, other houses.   As far as I knew, only this area had been settled, leaving the rest of the wood untouched for generations.   The original settlers were Nature lovers and had tried in every way to pass that love down to the following generations, ensuring that the wood be preserved.  So that now – even in the second half of the 20^th century – not many people were fortunate enough to enjoy such beauty.   There were some campers and several hikers coming in on the weekends, but generally the wood would be left to itself and its animals.   Today the birds were singing, the trees were whispering in the breeze, and the small animals were running busily around – and there were no hikers to be seen.  

I turned right as planned and kept walking.   This area was full of birch trees, and the sun cast long rays of light through the foliage.  It was majestic.   After a while I stopped.   The ground was rising more sharply on my right, and there was an entrance of some sort, partly hidden from the foliage.  I bent to look closer.  The hole seemed to be large enough to host a human being, and I thought it went on for some feet, although I could not see more than a few paces away.   Bingo!  I thought I had found exactly what I was looking for.  As my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I saw a cavern, tall enough in most places that I could stand, the ceiling sloping sharply near he entrance and then again towards the end.  Little light got in, because the entrance was small and hidden by the foliage, and I wondered whether something could be done about it – maybe a hole a little higher up to let wood smoke out?

I was so stunned I had to sit and collect my thoughts.  So I stepped out and sat on the ground.   I would have to go back to the hollow tree immediately to retrieve my stuff.  I wanted to sleep in the cave this same night.  I would have been warmer and more sheltered.  It was now ten in the morning.   I could reach the tree, eat something, and leave soon after.   I just needed to be back before sunset.   I was so happy!!

 And so I left, walking west as fast as I could, sure I would find the stream soon.   At noon I began to despair. Surely I hadn’t walked so much the day before?  And of course I couldn’t have missed it!   The ground on my right was now sloping gently, and I hoped the stream would do the same.   I was getting tired, and was worried of having to climb up some steep incline.   I kept going, but I couldn’t see any sign of water.  I had almost resolved to stop for a rest when I heard it.   Water was rushing nearby.  I renewed my efforts and reached it.  It was the stream I was looking for: yesterday I must have walked much more than I had thought, but now that I knew where I was, I had only one more hour to go.  I stopped and, before going on, took the jack knife out of my pocket and – with it – carved a deep mark in a tree nearby.   It was larger than the others, so I was sure not to miss it on my way back.  I then crossed the stream and turned right.

As I had hoped, the going was easy enough. But I had been tired already, and was tiring all the more every minute.  When I finally reached the hollow tree, it was all I could do to drop to the ground and lie there for a while.  I had to fight hard not to fall asleep.   After a few minutes, I stood up and went to the stream to drink and splash some water on my face.   Thus revived, I went back to the tree.   I stepped in to retrieve the food.   The sandwiches had become prey of some very voracious ants and other vermin, and were now completely covered by them: no chance there.   The apples were in much better state, and I resolved to keep them for later.  I had to eat something if I wanted to restore my forces, so I got out and searched a nice spot to build a fire.   I still had the fish with me. I could cook them all; eat part of them and save the rest for tomorrow.  

I tried hard;  I did everything as I had done the day before, but – try as I might – the fire wouldn’t start.   My hands, reddened and excoriated already from yesterday’s work, refused to roll the stick as fast as was necessary.   Or maybe the leaves were not dry enough.   Or maybe it was just me…  I was so depressed I could not think straight.   When at last I managed to get hold of myself, it was clear I could not get to the cavern this very day.   I would have to spend the night here.    The hollow tree was a good hiding place after all – better than being out in the open – and I needed to rest.   The sun was still up, and would be for more then a couple of hours.   I resolved to be brave about it.  Besides, what else could I do?

I threw the sandwiches away, burying them in the ground a little away from the tree.  I then cleaned the natural shelf as well as I could, and proceeded to make the place as comfortable as possible.  I refilled the bottle at the stream and – once back – sat down facing the sun – one apple in hand and the book on my lap.   Since I did not want to use the torch at night, I might as well use the  time left to read, as long as there was light.