Chapter 31: Thanksgiving Perception

Straight away that morning they picked an entire cartload of apples from one single tree that grew next to the garden. As they picked, Daniel told her about how it had been planted by his grandmother, and how she’d died while he was still in the army. Soon before he returned, he learned that she’d willed the property to him; that’s how he came to inherit this beautiful land and livelihood.

After laying the fruit out on tables to ripen in the front porch, they spent the remainder of the day picking pounds of tomatoes, assorted peppers, huge onions and about five heads of garlic. These were also brought in baskets and carts all the way up to the kitchen, where they too were laid out; their integrity examined. If any tomatoes or peppers showed signs of abuse, he took them straight into the kitchen. If they’d been nibbled by a worm, touched by a fungus, or had other damage, they’d need to be handled immediately, before decay set in.

Working quickly, he chopped the usable portions of peppers and the beefy tomatoes. For the smaller ones, he simply cooked them and churned them in the food mill to make a quick sauce. All this went into the fridge until he was ready to make salsa, which probably wouldn’t be until the next day.

Katrina followed his directions and provided an extra set of hands as he executed his master plan. She’d never experienced the garden-to-table transition of food, and she was eager to learn. It also helped to calm her nerves and free her mind after all that’d happened recently. She still wasn’t entirely relaxed around Daniel… she still had anxiety about Trent and Melissa. Yet there was nothing she could do about any of it, so she let time smooth things over.

After all their hard work, Daniel offered her a pair of jeans and a T-shirt he said a woman left behind years ago. He said she could take the night off, and he did the laundry while she showered. By the time she was done he’d retreated to the back porch, where he spent the rest of the evening.

Bored and still a little uneasy in the big house, she crept into that little room adjacent to his office space. She examined all the pictures, pelts, rocks, feathers, flowers, and other specimens that had no place in his display room. Also, there was an overflowing bookshelf, full of references from the dusty and dry, to the beloved and well-worn. She selected a book about the Shawnee tribe, and retired to her bedroom, waiting for nightfall.

When she awoke the next morning, in the stillness before dawn, she held within her the lucid sensation of being <i>alive</i>. As she stretched she was aware of every muscle, and the blood rushing through her. Blinking, she acknowledged her eyelashes and the air moving in her lungs. She had no idea what prompted this new sensitivity, but she liked it.

When her feet hit the thin carpet, she could feel the old floorboards beneath. It was cold on her warm, sleepy feet. Hurriedly, she pulled on the used clothes he’d given her. On her descent down the creaky steps, she walked close to the wall, so as to minimize the noise. In a few short steps, she was outside in the mist. Drunkenly, she soaked in the sights and the fragrance of the cool morning. Then she was on her way.

The dew of the grass saturated her sandals. Little bits of mowed grass clung to her toes. She again paused at the edge of the trees, and slowed her gait. Nevertheless, that blue jay still scolded her. At least this time she was present enough to notice.

She strolled quietly over the bare path, right up to the last rise before the spring. As she’d hoped, he was sitting on the trail waiting for her.

“Good morning,” he murmured, opening his eyes and smiling up at her.

“Good morning,” she whispered. “May I join you?” she asked, politely.

“Of course.”

As Katrina lowered herself to the Earth next to the ancient man, she wondered if he was done with his morning ritual. She was cautious about speaking at first, but she also couldn’t stand the silence. “So… I’m going to be staying for the week to help Daniel. To help pay for my car, I mean,” she explained, furtively.

“Wonderful,” he nodded, complacently. “You’ll be able to give thanks at the Eternal Spring for a few more days. Good.”

Sitting upon the ground next to him, she tried to put her mind in the place of thanksgiving. She was grateful for Daniel’s generosity, to have a place to stay, and to have her car paid for. She appreciated the old man’s insights and the emotional help he’d given. But all of this kept swirling her thoughts around in a spiral of inquiry.

“Tom?” she began.

“Hmm?”

“I was wondering if you could teach me that thanksgiving thing you did yesterday. You looked so peaceful and… happy.”

Tom agreed with her assessment. Glancing over, he declared, “Peace and joy can only be found within oneself; cultivated from a deep appreciation for life.”

“Yeah,” she breathed, excitedly. Now more than ever she needed that kind of tranquility and rapture.

“But I don’t think you’re ready, yet,” he shrugged, turning back to the eastern horizon and closing his eyes dismissively.

Immediately her hopeful smile turned into a confused frown. “Not ready?” she rebuked. “But yesterday you said you’d teach me.”

“I thought about it, but no…” Calmly, he opened his eyes and tried to reason with her compassionately. “You must first be willing to change your perception of life. I sense that you still place an emphasis on unimportant things, yet you have no concept of reality. How can you be thankful if you have no understanding of what’s happening here, in reality?”

“Reality?” she grimaced, feeling thoroughly offended. “Listen…” she began.

“You might even have to change how you perceive yourself… who you choose to be.”

After another blank scowl, she countered, “You can’t <i>choose</i> who you are.”

“Not with that attitude,” he stated, looking at her sideways.

Katrina guffawed, shook her head, and then breathed deeply. “Fine. How do I ‘change my perception?’” she challenged.

Tom seemed to consider this at length, weighing his response. Ultimately, he rose from his seated position and wandered amiably toward the southeast edge of the clearing. “I can’t tell you <i>how</i>; that’s a shift that must come from within.”

Blinking hard, she was able to hide a roll of her eyes. Begrudgingly though, she did follow him to the little pond there.

“But I can give you an example of why you’d want to.”

“Okay…” she bristled.

Deliberately, he lowered himself and he eyed the flora and rocks surrounding the water’s edge. Katrina joined him, stiffly and exasperated.

“You are sitting here, in the flesh, in the now. You have an idea of reality. Right?”

“Yeah,” she smirked, reeling from his suggestion that she may not know what was real.

“Were you aware that yesterday, at about this time, a bobcat drank from this pond?”

Her mind recoiled, wanting to doubt him; to snort her contempt and derision. But as he pointed, her eyes focused on the little depressions in the soil. The Earth near the lip of the pond was moist and soft. Clearly she could see a few small crescents; outlines of digits in the soil. Having glimpsed a million cat prints at her grandparents’ farm, she knew these were the biggest she’d ever seen.

Still disbelieving, she began, “Those could be…”

“If they were made by a member of the dog family, they’d have claw marks. These have none,” he pointed out. “Cats have retractable claws.” Then he held his eyes upon hers, leaving no doubt that the old tracker knew exactly what he was seeing.

Finally, she had to submit to his wisdom. “Bobcat…” she frowned, feeling the hair stand up on her back. “They have kind of a black marking and fluffy fur around their eyes, right?” she remembered, from a dream she’d had recently.

“And a bobtail,” he nodded. “Very good. Where do you think she might be right now?” he wondered, tantalizingly.

“I don’t know,” she replied, feeling her senses come alive in tingling excitement.

“Do I sense fear?”

Despite herself, her lips curled into an unwilling smirk. “Maybe,” she shook her head.

Tom shuffled to his feet once again, to hide his bemused grin. “Tell me,” he began, making his way back to the Eternal Spring under the rock ceiling. “What else are you afraid of?”

Sighing heavily as she followed, she absently pulled her hair band out, and repositioned her ponytail. “Uh… I used to be afraid of snakes, until Daniel…”

“… changed your perception of them?”

Snapping the rubber band, she gave him an unenthused look.

“What else?” he encouraged, as he bent to retrieve one of his glass jugs next to the well.

“I don’t know,” she muttered, looking around blankly. “Death?” She didn’t think that was the kind of thing he was wanting from her, but she said it anyhow.

With the container perched on the rock wall, Tom had been staring lovingly into the clear pool. Her answer did catch his attention, and he wanted to know more.

“Why should such a young lady be afraid of dying?”

Rolling her eyes flippantly, she countered, “Well, I mean, isn’t everybody?”

Tom shook his head, peering at her directly. “Tell me about yourself, Katrina.” Then he invited her over to the sandstone ledge with a pat of his hand.

Reluctantly she moved forward, rehearsing a few lines in her head. Eventually though, she knew she wouldn’t be able to conceal anything from him, so she came out with it.

“My dad died when I was 13. It was a long battle with cancer. It stripped him of his dignity… even his <i>identity</i>, in my mind. He wasn’t the same person when he finally died. And he was so young. Like fifteen years older than I am now…”

“And were you the same person after he died?”

Feeling a lump sting her throat, she simply shook her head and looked away.

“Tell me… what was Katrina Hayes like when she was younger?”

Images flashed before her eyes in quick succession. She could feel the sun on her skin; the grass between her toes; the smell of her grandparents’ mare. With a sniff, she shrugged and swallowed.

“Like a regular kid, I guess.”

Tom allowed her to compose herself before he proceeded. “Well, you do have a good grasp of the value of life. At least you have that going for you. But the young Katrina sounds much different than the one who thought the world was ending just because she lost her belongings.” Then, with the same gratitude and patience as he ate his meals, he slowly submerged the mouth of the glass jug into the cold water.

Katrina threw him a look that warned of her decreasing tolerance.

“Well, I guess I’ve changed.”

Without pausing in his endeavor, he idly stated, “I thought you said you can’t change who you are.”

Pursing her lips, she raised a brow. “Fine. I grew up, then.”

As if he didn’t want to interrupt his silent conversation with the water, Tom finished with the second container before he spoke again.

“You are no longer a child, yet you’re still living a false life, on perceived notions. You haven’t matured enough to be who you truly are.” After slipping the cordage straps around the two half-gallons, he stood before her. His eyes casually brushed past her features and her blond hair. “You feel you have to look a certain way, to chase some illusion of beauty. Or that you must have a certain career, in order to achieve some idea of success. Or marry a certain person in order to be happy.”

Her mouth was still pressed flat, but her eyes wandered as she contemplated his words.

“You may be taller now, but you still busy your mind with irrelevant questions, like who set fire to what…”

“Wait –” she started.

“When really that’s not the right question at all.”

Incredulously, she asked, “What’s the right question?”

“Who would want to destroy your life? What would they have to gain? And why does it matter, anyhow?” He filed through these thoughts trivially, as he began to saunter down the trail and towards the house.

“Uh, it matters a lot, to me!” she disputed, trailing him closely.

“Oh,” he responded, pausing a moment to think on this. “I see. So… knowing the truth about one thing would change your perception… about everything? Interesting,” he grinned.

Katrina slowed her pace, holding back just enough to glower at the back of his head.

As if he never noticed her reaction, Tom continued casually. “Did you know there’s a flying squirrel nested up in there?” With his arms full, he simply glanced upward.

“A… <i>flying</i> squirrel?” she scrunched up her face as she eyed a cluster of leaves in a forked limb above his head.

“Yes. I got here before dawn, and I saw him scurry up in there to bed. They’re nocturnal, you know.”

Dubiously, she continued to shake her head, her mouth slacking in disbelief.

“Or… maybe you didn’t know… about flying squirrels. Well, the world truly is changing for you these days, isn’t it? Now <i>that’s</i> something to be thankful for,” he winked. Then he continued his stroll back toward the lodge. “Ridiculously cute little critters, with their big, black eyes and their floppy parachute skin! Could just about make Ebenezer Scrooge giggle like a little girl.”

As they exited the woods she followed a few steps behind, continuing to scrutinize him.

Finally, she spoke her mind. “How did you know about the fire? Did Daniel tell you about that?”

Indifferently, he slowed his pace and retorted, “Would it make you feel better if I said yes?”

Sneering at him skeptically, she shook her head, not knowing what to think.

“Like I said… there are some things you just aren’t ready for. But don’t worry about it right now; I’ll be here when you are.”