Chapter 2

Michael nodded. “‘Safe as aces’, as my friend, Derek, used to say before things went south.”

“I can help around the place. You can teach me how to use the bow and how to fish. Then you can take it easy.”

“You calling me ‘old’, Derek?” Michael asked, giving him one of his rare smiles.

“Older than me,” Derek replied, grinning a bit.

“Now that’s a given. Tell you what. I’ll think about it.”

Michael did and two days later he told Derek, “You can stay.” Just that, short and sweet.

Derek almost cheered. “So now you have to teach me things so I’m useful. Like, like—” he looked around the small cabin “—like we need another bed so I don’t have to keep sleeping on the sofa.” He’d moved to the sofa the week after Michael had found him and he’d finally awakened, insisting it wasn’t fair for him to have the only bed.

“I can do that. And show you how to hunt, if you have a good eye and a steady hand.”

Derek pumped a fist in the air. “When?”

“Today. We need fresh meat. You think you can shoot a cute, little bunny rabbit?”

Derek rolled his eyes. “As long as it’s not Thumper.”

“You remember that story?” Michael asked, watching him.

Thinking about it, Derek nodded. “I guess I do. Sort of. I remember Mom reading it to me when I was little.” His face lit up. “Hey, I just remembered a bit of my past. Not much, just that. Probably because of what you said, but maybe it’s a start?”

“Yeah, maybe.” Michael got up suddenly, going to get the bow and the quiver he kept the arrows in. “Let’s see how you do.”

Derek cocked his head in question at the sudden change of subject. “It’s good, isn’t it, that I mightbe starting to remember?”

Michael just shrugged as he headed out of the cabin. Derek was right behind him, uncertain what was going on with him. It wasn’t until they were deep into the woods, well away from the cabin, that he figured it out.

“Hey, just because I remember doesn’t mean I want to go back there—wherever there is. I like it here.”

“You might change your mind. Get bored. Want some excitement. Want friends.”

“You’re my friend.”

“I’m an old man, Derek. But now’s not the time to talk if we want to catch supper.”

They returned to the cabin around noon with a brace of rabbits and a squirrel. Derek wasn’t certain he could actually eat squirrel until Michael pointed out to him that he already had. “What do you think was in the stew we had a week ago? Chicken?”

As it turned out, Derek was very good with a bow and arrows once he got the hang of it, so it became his job to hunt while Michael did the fishing in a small stream several hundred yards behind the cabin. Theyboth tended the garden and soon were taking turns cooking.

The new bed got made, with rope crisscrossed to make a base for the straw mattress, over which they laid the sleeping bag Derek had been using as a blanket on the sofa. When he asked, Michael told him he sometimes, very rarely, hiked to a small town fifty miles away to get basic necessities like the sleeping bag and the few clothes he owned that he hadn’t made himself. Clothes he now shared with Derek.

* * * *

Within a month, Derek was well settled in to his new life. Occasionally he would get a fleeting memory of his old life but nothing that told him who he was or where he came from.

In the evenings after supper, they would sit on the floor by the small fireplace. At first they just talked about their day but slowly Michael opened up enough to talk about his childhood, nothing more. He refused to reveal what his life had been like once he left home or why he had become a recluse.

Michael had an old, well used chess board as well as both chess and checker sets, so they usually ended their evenings playing one game or another. Soon Derek became quite proficient at chess, beating Michael as often as he lost to him.

It all ended suddenly.

Derek was out hunting, this time hoping to find a deer. Michael said if he did, they would save the skin to make new boots and jackets to replace the ones they had already, eat what they could of the meat whileit was fresh, and dry the rest for later consumption.

He had no luck with the deer but did shoot two rabbits. As he headed back to the cabin, he thought he heard something. A loud bang, followed quickly by a shout, and then two more bangs. Frowning, he stepped up his pace, wondering if there were hunters in the area. If they had found the cabin…

He raced the last quarter mile to the clearing. Everything looked the way it always did—no hunters, no dead animal, nothing to say who had shouted. Not until he opened the cabin door.