The sun was high overhead and the day getting warmer by the time the large ship
disappeared from view leaving many of the men feeling somewhat disorientated.
Others clearly decided to move on as quickly as possible.
Thomas walked slowly towards
the figure hidden behind the tree. He didn’t want to scare the lad off; he
looked so skittish. “Hello!” he said, offering the young man a gentle smile.
“My name is Thomas Fields.”
Soft, grey eyes stared into
the face of the wide-shouldered man and finding the encouragement he so
desperately needed, the boy let out a soft sigh of relief. ‘I can do this,’ he
thought and drew in a deep breath. “M-my name is Galen Deon Manara.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you,
Galen, even in these trying circumstances.” Thomas extended his hand. “I thought
I’d go and help get some of these crates opened so we can see what they’ve left
us to work with. Would you like to come with me?” he invited, having heard the
stutter but not mentioning it.
A little self-conscious of
the filthy state of his person and clothing, Galen at first didn’t respond.
‘Aah, why should I worry about my appearance? We’re all in need of a good
clean-up,’ he reminded himself as he shrugged his shoulders and with a shy
crooked grin, wiped his hand off on his overalls and accepted the one offered
in friendship. “Yes, b-but I’d really like to take care of those goats as soon
as p-possible.”
“Do you have experience with
animals, Galen? Farm boy, were you?” Thomas asked as he took Galen’s smaller
hand in his own. The young man’s hand felt cold and damp.
“Not exactly a farm-boy. I
grew up on my p-parents vineyard, b-but w-we had lots of animals too.” Galen
tried to speak slowly, wanting so badly for the words to come out right.
Thomas smiled. “That must
have been a very nice place to grow up.” He studied the lad closely. Galen
looked pale and poorly. “Are you feeling ill, son?” he asked. “Was it a rough
crossing for you?”
“I w-was sick a lot.” His
small, pinched face gave testament to his words. “One of the guards got m-me
something and even though it tasted awful, it settled m-my stomach a little
b-bit. I think it w-was from the cook.”
“I hope it helped you to feel
better. However, you were not alone in feeling ill. I would be quite surprised
if there was a single man, other than the sailors, that didn’t get sick at
least once during the journey. I was fortunate as I only lost my supper the
first night out and got accustomed to the motion after that; though I could
hear retching from many of the others throughout the crossing.”
“In a w-way I’m glad w-we
finally got here; the fresh air feels good.”
“Yes, it does. And a great
deal better than the stench of that ship’s hold.” Thomas looked to where some
crates stood beside a number of goats and sheep that had been tied to trees.
There were an abundant number of fowls which included a substantial array of
roosters, hens, ducks and geese all in wire cages; a boar and four large sows
with their piglets in slatted crates; and a sturdy-looking mule standing next
to a plough, its halter securely fastened to it. The livestock had certainly added
to the unpleasant aroma Thomas was referring to.
“Look,” Galen pointed
excitedly, walking towards two beautiful golden retrievers. “There are even a
couple of dogs! I w-wonder whose they are?” He bent to pet the large, chained,
obviously well cared-for animals before following the older man over to the
crates.
“Thomas Fields,” Thomas
introduced himself to a tall, kilt-clad man and held out his hand.
“Aiden Mackenzie Shea at yer
service.” Aiden smiled broadly and accepted the extended hand. Neither man
realised at the time that a lifelong bond was forming.
While Thomas conversed with a
big man wielding a crowbar, Galen stood quietly nearby bouncing on the front of
his feet, ready to make note of the items in the containers as they were opened,
and their contents examined.
Thomas and Aiden looked up at
the approach of another.
Troy had picked up a
sturdy-looking branch from the many that peppered the beach and headed towards
one of the crates where two of the men stood contemplating which one to open
first. The bigger of the two men gave him a nod as he stepped forward to
assist. He recognised the men from the days they had spent on the ship, but he
hadn’t yet spoken with them. He hadn’t had much of a chance to speak with
anyone despite their extensive leisure time, much of which had been spent under
the watchful eyes of the guards who seemed far from happy with their
assignment. But then, he had also been focused on his young companion and
the seasickness the voyage had brought upon him. Fortunately, after being
onshore for a good hour or so, he was relieved to see that Levi was finally
beginning to lose his unnatural pallor.
Putting one end of the branch
under the rim of a crate, Troy started to push his weight against it. He saw
Levi’s eyes get big and his mouth open to say something when the middle of the
branch suddenly exploded upwards. Losing his support, Troy found himself
falling ungracefully to the sand. From the corner of his eye, he could see his
partner with a hand over his mouth in an attempt to stifle the giggles that
escaped regardless. Looking up, he found other men staring down at him. Some
were politely trying to hold back their mirth, while others gave their
amusement free rein.
“Umm, seems ‘tis rotten,” the
large Scot said blandly and quite unnecessarily.
At this, Levi gave in to the
inevitable and allowed the gales of laughter to escape him. Troy cast a mildly
annoyed look his way before accepting the offered hand of the now grinning
Scotsman. “So I noticed,” he responded with a smile of his own at his folly.
“Aiden Shea,” the man
introduced himself. “Cabinet making is my speciality, but I guess carpenter
would be close enough, given the current situation.”
“Troy Harris, tutor and would
be scholar. Though of what or to whom, I’m going to teach here is uncertain.
That young man over there, the one having trouble curtailing his enjoyment at
my imprudence, is my partner Levi.”
Aiden nodded in the direction
Troy was pointing and returned the grin Levi set his way.
Seeing other men eagerly
stepping forward to assist, Troy gathered what was left of his pride and stood
next to his partner. It would take the next quarter hour or so for Levi to stop
breaking out in renewed giggles whenever he looked at the older man next to him.
“We’ll soon need to find some
food so a meal can be provided for everyone,” Thomas suggested. “It is past
mid-afternoon, and we haven’t eaten since early morning.”
“I agree,” said a
distinguished-looking man. “I don’t think a chunk of dry bread, a piece of
rancid cheese and a wrinkled, old apple will sustain any of us for long. I am
more than willing to help prepare a meal, but I think it would be best if we
first formed a plan of action on what to do with all these crates and barrels.
By the way, Walker Drummond is my name.”
As the containers and
livestock had been unloaded and his fellow passengers had stepped onto the soil
that would now be their home, Larry had kept an eye on the big Scottish man.
When he’d seen him go to the crates, he walked over to lend a hand. After
shaking hands with Thomas and introducing himself, he gathered his courage,
looked up at the tallest man almost shyly and needlessly introduced himself
once again. “Hello, my name is Lieutenant, I mean Larry, Larry West. May I ask
who you are?”
“I’d be Aiden Shea,” Aiden
replied, offering his hand yet again to a perfect stranger.
Larry gazed into deep blue
eyes and felt a charge go through him as his hand was engulfed in a much larger
one. He struggled to break the spell he found himself under by asking, “where
did you find that?” indicating the crowbar clutched in Aiden’s left fist.
“One of the crew tossed it
down on this crate. He must have decided ‘twas no longer a threat of any of us
doing them bodily harm with it.”
Larry chuckled at the other
man’s choice of words, appreciating his sense of humour. He stood to one
side and watched Aiden pry the cover off a huge crate. Looking inside, he was
pleased to see it packed with canvas to be used in pitching tents. The crate
had been labelled correctly.
It easily fell to half a
dozen men taking charge while the majority of the others willingly went along
with whatever decisions were made. There was security to be found in
establishing some order after so much confusion arising from the unloading of
the ship.
“We really should consider
moving everything to higher ground before unpacking,” Walker suggested.
“Ye may be right,” Aiden
agreed. “There is a lot more here than I was led to expect. I can’t help
wondering where it all came from?”
“All will be explained in due
time,” Walker pleasantly replied. “But please take note that these two unmarked
crates will require opening here and their contents relocated piece by piece.
Trying to move either one as is will prove very difficult indeed.” He smiled at
the nods of acceptance well mixed with curiosity.
“Just over this slight
incline may be a good place to set up a base camp,” a large man dressed in
buckskin announced as he strolled down a grassy slope behind them. Uninterested
in watching the ship being unloaded, Brock had set out to explore the immediate
area. Having spent years in the wild, he knew the need to establish an
encampment from which to slowly spread out and learn about the island.
Many of the men were startled
by his sudden appearance. None had known that one of them had already been
investigating the terrain.
“There’s an open expanse that
appears to be a grazing pasture for wild animals. It would be an ideal location
for setting up a temporary home,” Brock informed them. “Mind you, we’ll need to
trample down a path of sorts if we plan to move all these supplies and the
livestock.”
“How about me rounding up
some of the men to help with the move while you figure out how to transfer all
this, Aiden?” Larry proposed.
“There’s a fair supply of
items to help with that endeavour,” Walker announced, pointing to the large
coils of ropes resting against a pile of sturdy poles.
“Yes, and m-many of the
crates have handles on the side,” Galen quietly observed.
Even with the combined effort
of the many men able to do so, it took a good two hours for the plan of action
to be accomplished. Numerous trips were made back and forth between the beach
and the area being settled. All but a handful of men readily pitched in and did
their part. Some boxes only required one or two men to carry them; others
required three or four; and a few had to be towed by the mule. Barrels, of
course, only required rolling which greatly aided in the widening and
flattening of the path.
Kevin McCaw traded
introductions with Galen and Raythe when he commandeered them to help move the
livestock. Galen worked willingly while Raythe moved the cages of fowl somewhat
begrudgingly. Kevin had tried unsuccessfully to interest another young man, but
Spyke barely mumbled his name before walking away. It was under Kevin’s
direction that some of the poles and rope were confiscated and a makeshift pen
got erected for the pigs, with the sows being partially hog-tied to hamper any
attempts at escaping.
The distance needed to travel
between the two sites seemed to get longer with each trip, but eventually only
a few personal items remained on the beach, along with two very heavy
containers that a handful of men were carefully scrutinising.
“We will have to exercise
care in these,” Aiden instructed the men within hearing distance. “The wood
will come in handy for building animal pens and I’d like to reuse any extra to
make benches and tables.”
He heard quietly murmured
sounds of concurrence and began to carefully insert the crowbar under the cover
of the nearest unmarked crate.
“Ye’ll all be pleased to see
this,” Aiden called out as he stood looking down into the huge wooden bin he’d
just pried the top off of. He had a huge grin on his handsome face. “’Tis a
cooking stove, in need of assembling mind, but a stove nonetheless. And ‘tis a
descent sized one at that”
The magnitude of this new
find had barely registered when a large black man walked over to introduce
himself.
“I’m Mitchell Wolfe. You
gentlemen are?”
Thomas extended his hand.
“Thomas Fields, late of Fullerton County. Nice to meet you.”
Mitchell shook his hand. “The
pleasure is mine.”
“Walker Drummond,” the
ex-magistrate announced.
“And I’d be Aiden Mackenzie
Shea, at one time of the Highlands, and this wee lad is Galen.” Aiden smiled
and nodded towards the young man leaning into the opened crate and rummaging
through the packing. He frowned slightly when Galen failed to acknowledge the
introduction. He was unaware of the boy having missed the exchange.
“I’m available to do anything
needed that will be of help to get the last of these items moved,” Mitchell
offered.
“Thank ye! Every willing hand
is needed as we all work together at moving on,” Aiden commented
philosophically while nodding in a friendly manner.
“Is that actually a stove
we’ve got here?” Mitchell’s voice rang with disbelief as he stared at the
containers holding various parts.
“Yes, and even after we get
it out of the crates it will still weigh a great deal. It is going to be a
challenge moving it,” Walker stated, somewhat amused.
“Aye, that ‘tis! ‘Twas
brought in on that barge-type affair, along with the mule and plough. We’re
going to need a couple of sturdy men to assist in setting up the beastie so
somebody can get a meal started,” Aiden murmured while scratching his head and
trying to figure out the best way of transporting it.
Mitchell, Thomas and Aiden
soon had the sides of the crates pulled apart and the main section of the stove
uncovered.
“Now to relocate the thing,”
Mitchell muttered.
The man they’d met earlier
who was almost of the same stature as Aiden, stepped up and hoisted the heavy
item onto his shoulder. He had removed his buckskin shirt and was bare from the
waist up. He was the same man who had found the location for a base camp to
begin with. “Where do you want this?”
Walker and Thomas stared in
amazement at the strength this wild-looking man exhibited. “Follow Thomas and
me please, and we’ll get it set up,” Walker replied with a note of wonder
ringing in his voice. “My name’s Walker. What’s yours?”
“I answer to Brock!” The
response was straightforward and abrupt as the big man followed Walker and
Thomas, who were each toting as many extra parts as they could carry. Galen
slowly trailed behind, carrying what he could.
Aiden and Mitchell began to
clear away the remaining debris with plans to join them momentarily.
“Tell you what, Thomas,”
Walker offered as he struggled to determine the best way to put the stove
together, “if we ever get this thing properly assembled, I’ll bake some biscuits
if you’ll put together the rest of the meal; provided we find the fixings we
need.”
“Sounds like a fair
arrangement to me,” Thomas amicably agreed with a laugh, “now that we’ve an
area to work in that has less sand being blown about.”
The crate opening continued
according to a priority list decided upon by half a dozen of the older,
take-charge men.
“We have all the crates lined
up over here next to the barrels, Aiden,” Larry announced. “But seeing as
you’re the one with the crowbar….”
“Yer hinting that I best be
putting it to good use, laddie?”
Larry’s only reply was a
light chuckle as he fell into step beside the larger-than-life man.
“You’ll likely come across
one of those crates with the name Drummond on it, Aiden. If it’s alright with
everyone, I’d prefer to wait until tomorrow before opening it.” Walker called
out.
“Grand! ‘Tis one less we
presently have to concern ourselves with. Although I highly doubt all will be
opened today in any case.”
Larry stood to one side and
watched Aiden pry the cover off another huge crate labelled ‘Provisions’.
Looking inside, the men were pleased to see that this crate too had been
labelled correctly.
“Ah-ha, precisely what we
need, Thomas, to cook up a large pot of savoury stew. Now to find the necessary
ingredients with which to whip up a batch of biscuits to go with it,” Walker
enthused when he saw what the crate contained.
“We’ll require some equipment
to do it all with,” Thomas commented as he and Walker walked back to continue assembling
the stove so they could get a meal started as soon as possible. “And a good
supply of firewood and fresh water.”
Larry once again enlisted the
help of some men who stood nearby. This time it was in the distributing of
supplies as the crates were opened. They quickly realised it may take several
days to unpack and correctly store so many items as their strength was steadily
waning.
“I’m Quentin Bradley,” said
one of them, “and I ran a general store back home. I would be more than willing
to keep track of supplies for everyone. Maybe doing an inventory over the next
few days will prove beneficial in case rationing should be decided upon.”
His offer accepted, he set
about counting and writing down the beginning of what would prove to be a very
long list. His quick search through a box marked ‘Literary Needs’ had produced
a note pad and pencil.
“Tents, b-bedding, cooking
utensils,” Galen quietly rhymed off. “Ah-ha!” he cried when the crowbar
wielding man lifted the lid off the box marked ‘Farming Equipment’. He happily grabbed
up a couple of buckets. In the hubbub of preparing for disembarking, no one had
milked the goats and they were being none too shy in letting their discomfort known.
Although still weak from the voyage, Galen felt he was capable of doing at
least one of the most immediate chores that some of the men were in all
likelihood listing in their minds. He swung a bucket in each hand as he
strolled over to where the animals in need of attention had been tied up.
“Now look at this!” Mitchell
exclaimed, pulling an axe from the same crate and holding it high. “I’m going
to chop up that fallen tree over there, so we’ll have proper sized chunks of
firewood to keep that stove going.” With that, he strolled off with every
intention of achieving his goal.
Looking inside a crate with
‘Mess Hall’ stamped on the side, Larry was pleased to see it well stuffed. “How
about me finding a few strong men willing to help with getting this set up?” he
suggested as he pulled at the heavy canvas. “It looks to be a good size. Hopefully
someone had the foresight to include poles, ropes and pegs with it.”
“Here be some,” Aiden
informed him, pointing to the crate next to the one containing the tenting
materials. “There are also several smaller tents in this container and what
appears to be pallets and blankets in yet another.”
Thomas looked up at that
remark. “I suppose it would be too much to expect they supplied us with
mattresses and sheets?” A number of the men around gave a small laugh at that.
“Aye,” Aiden chuckled. “However,
they did include pillows, such as they are.”
“Stuffed with the finest of
eiderdown no doubt,” Thomas replied.
“Me thinks ye be dreaming,
mon!” Aiden returned the light bantering.
Deciding he was being more of
a hindrance than a help with the stove, Thomas examined some of the items
pulled from the crate marked ‘Kitchen Utensils’ before moving over to an opened
container with ‘Staples’ printed on the side. “You know, we’d be able to put
together a meal to satisfy us all for tonight, if someone could find some fresh
water.”
Troy glanced up when he heard
Thomas’ comment. “Well,” he said drily, “being as there are plenty of others to
assist with the unpacking, I’m more than willing to perform that task.”
“That will be a great help.
We also need to gather kindling in order to start a fire. There are plenty of
pots and cooking utensils in this crate,” Thomas said as he stood up straighter
and stretch his back. He studied the men milling about, busily involved in an
assortment of jobs and realised he only knew the names of a small number of
them. “At some point in time, we’re all going to have to introduce ourselves
and then decide how we’re going to survive this place,” he seriously remarked,
waving his hands in a gesture meant to encompass the island.
“Excellent idea,” Troy
concurred, picking up a couple of buckets and walking back to Levi. “I’m going
in search of a fresh water supply,” Troy informed the younger man.
Levi looked hopeful. “I’d
really like to come.”
“Although I’d enjoy the
company, I think it best you wait here. I really have no idea how far I’ll have
to walk, and I’d prefer you to just take it easy for a while. Moving here was a
big chore and you are definitely winded.”
“But so are most of us,” Levi
pointed out in a disgruntled manner.
“But you are my main concern,
my love, and I am telling you not to leave the camp.”
Levi saw the determination in
his lover’s face, as well as a warning, and heeded it. “Fine, I’ll stay here
and find something else to help out with.”
“Just take it easy and don’t
stray, okay?” Troy gave a reassuring smile before heading away.
Thomas was pleasantly
surprised the more he dug through the crate of foodstuff. At least someone had
given them a variety of decent things to work with so they wouldn’t starve.
There was a multitude of canned goods and sacks of staples such as flour, salt
and sugar, basic seasonings, coffee, tea and even some dried fruit.
He then noted a smallish unmarked
carton out of the corner of his eye and pried it open. He knelt down, pulled
back the layer of packing material and found the entire box filled with Holy
Bibles. He laughed. “I’ll be damned, here’s our bloody redemption, eh?”
“Aye, the preacher aboard
ship made mention of that,” Aiden commented, coming over to look in the box.
“And ‘twas awful kind of them to worry so about us, but I fear they may have
more need of those than we do.”
Thomas shook his head. “I’m
not a church going man. I could never bring myself to listen to the preaching
of hell for those men who would lay down with other men. But I suppose there
are those amongst us who might find comfort in the things.”
Walker glanced down at the
books. “What would you like to do with them?” he asked quietly.
“I suppose we should offer
them to those who’d like one and pack the rest away. But that can wait for
now,” Thomas replied to Walker before turning to Aiden. “You’re right, my
friend, they might learn more from the words of love and forgiveness found
within these pages than we will from their words of fear and hatred.”
Walker picked up one of the
Bibles and thumbed through it. “Ah-ha, some passages have been marked.”
A grimace passed across
Thomas’ face. “Don’t tell me! Let me guess! Sodom and Gomorrah, am I right?”
“Och, ‘tis worried they were
that we’d miss it!” Aiden snorted, reading over Walker’s shoulder.
Thomas stood from his
kneeling position. “Gentlemen, I have determined one thing will come of this
nightmare they have put us all through. We shall prevail and we shall build a
better, kinder society than those who would send us here could ever dream of.
Damn them and all their righteousness to hell!”
“Aye, ye have a point there,
Thomas!”
Thomas looked a little
embarrassed. “My apologies; I sometimes get a mite worked up.”
“What say we put these books
aside for the moment and get back to putting a meal together for this hungry
lot,” Walker suggested before kindheartedly adding, “there’s no need to
apologise. We have been put through enough without this final insult.”
Meanwhile, Wayne and Wesley
had started to fidget almost immediately after the ship faded on the horizon.
They’d been standing still for a long time and their limbs were weary with
fatigue. Their clothes were soiled and wet, their skin beginning to burn from
the bright sun and drying salt. Altogether, they were thoroughly miserable and
frightened.
They remained on the
sidelines as men engaged in beating down a path and moving crates. It looked
like heavy work and while the twins were curious about what was in the crates,
it was not enough to draw them over to help. They didn’t feel it was something
they should be doing. Besides they had no gloves and they were damn sure the
splinters from the crates would injure their carefully manicured hands. Looking
around dispassionately, they started to move away. Already they were beginning
to dissociate from one another.
Having eventually followed
the group to the newly decided upon camp site, Wesley again stood to one side
and watched as men worked. “I’m cold. I think I’ll just get me one of those,”
he grumbled to himself when he heard blankets mentioned and he headed over to
the crate that a couple had been pulled from. He didn’t spare his brother a
moment’s thought.
At some point earlier when
the move had been about to begin, Yancey had walked over to kneel down beside a
blond man sprawled in the sand. He introduced himself and offered his hand in
friendship.
Spyke glared up at the
black-haired man. He was about to make a snide remark but thought it better to
avoid making enemies this soon after being stranded here. “Spyke’s my name,” he
muttered and unenthusiastically accepted the other man’s hand.
“Instead of baking here in
the sun, how about we go help the others?” Yancey suggested.
“I’d really rather be left
alone for a while, if that’s alright with you,” Spyke grumbled and laid his
head down on folded arms.
“As you wish,” Yancey replied
compassionately, understanding the apparent wretchedness Spyke was experiencing
but uncertain how to be of help. He shook his head and sadly walked away, leaving
the young man by himself.
Larry returned to let Aiden
know he had rounded up a good number of volunteers. “I see you managed to pull
this heavy tent out by yourself, Aiden.” He glanced down at the pile of canvas
on the ground.
“Aye, it and the poles are
waiting for ye. Better get it set up before they start cooking,” Aiden directed.
“Yes, sir!” Larry’s automatic
use of the title reflected his military background and his acceptance of Aiden
as a leader. “That’s perfect for a mess hall! It looks large enough to hold all
of us. I’ll get the other guys and we’ll set it up next to the stove and
cooking area. With a little bit of work, some of the fallen trees and boulders
could be used to sit on, don’t you think?”
“Aye, ’twill certainly
do us for now,” Aiden agreed.
After helping with the move,
Lakota looked down at himself. His formerly fine suit of clothes was badly
rumpled, torn and soiled; in all probability unsalvageable. Not that this
mattered to him. These clothes had been part of what was expected of a
prominent surgeon. Personally, he had always been more comfortable in sturdy
working clothes or the buckskins of his mother’s people. However, he was a
fastidious man and was uncomfortable with the many layers of dirt and sweat he
was wearing, to say nothing of his desire to pull the braid from his long ebony
hair and give it a thorough washing.
He knew that hygiene could
become a serious issue for these men. They would need to be careful in dealing
with waste and with the proper storage of food or he could in very short order
have twenty-seven very sick or even dying men on his hands. He said a silent
prayer to the gods that these men could be made to understand the need for sanitation.
The concept that disease could be spread from one man to another in the form of
bacteria invisible to the naked eye was still a new one and many were
non-believers. Yes, there was much work ahead for all of them and it would need
to start now. He approached the tall man prying open the crates.
“Hello, my name is Lakota. I
was told there would be a crate of medical supplies. Did you happen to see it?”
“Aye, ‘tis over there. Would
ye like me to open it for ye?” Aiden offered.
“I am sure it is safe for the
time being. I think I’ll just go help with the setup of the larger tent.
Someone is calling for volunteers. Possibly there will be a smaller one to set
up as an infirmary when we get more settled.” Lakota smiled and with a friendly
wave of his hand, headed towards the sounds of men working just across the
clearing.
Back on the beach, Nathan
walked over to the two young men struggling under the weight of a couple of
heavy valises. “Hello, there! My name is Nathan.” He smiled and held out his
hand.
“I’m Brodie and this is
Jordan,” one of the young men answered in a friendly manner as he bent to pick
up the satchel he’d dropped. It had barely missed landing on his foot.
“I was thinking of offering
to gather the last of these personal belongings and move them to a drier
location before helping with the pitching of that huge tent they found. Care to
help me?” Nathan asked.
“It’s fine by me,” Brodie
responded enthusiastically. “What about you, Jordan?”
“Sure, I’d rather be busy,”
Jordan murmured, his eyes searching for Seth.
“Don’t worry about him,
Jordan. He’s better off on his own.” Nathan spoke kindly in the face of
Jordan’s unhappiness. He had also overheard and been disgusted with the nasty
comments the fancy dressed man had made earlier. “Come on! There’s work to be
done, fellas!”
“Do you think I’d be allowed to
help out in the cooking area when we’ve finished here?” Jordan shyly inquired.
“I’m pretty sure the two men
presently working there would appreciate your help, Jordan. I can take you over
and introduce you if you like.” Nathan received a beaming smile to indicate his
offer was genuinely appreciated.
“Hello, there! Can you use
another pair of hands and strong back? If so, I’m available,” Hendrik offered.
“By the way, my name is Hendrik.”
“Yes, we’ll take all the help
we can get,” Nathan laughed. “I’m Nathan and these fine-looking young men are
Brodie and Jordan.” Handshakes were exchanged before all four men began working
together on the task at hand.
“Thomas,” Galen placed two
heavy, well-filled buckets on the ground and pulled at the older man’s sleeve.
“Are two b-buckets of m-milk enough for supper?”
“You’ve finished milking them
already?” Thomas asked the young man.
“Only four of them,” Galen answered.
“Well, I’m sure we can make
good use of the milk for our dinner, thank you. Do the other goats need to be
milked yet?” he asked.
“No, the last two nanny goats
look like they are going to kid soon. I’ll p-put covers on these and set them
in w-water at the edge of the ocean to cool.” Galen picked up the buckets and
headed off on his self-appointed chore.
Thomas watched Galen as he
walked away. The young man still looked very pale and a little unsteady. He
decided to make sure the boy got something to eat and drink as soon as possible.
Larry and his team managed to
get the mess hall up in less than half an hour. He stood back and took in the
results of their labour. “Hey, everyone; we’ve now got a shaded place to eat!
Now to gather up the rest of the tents and stack them over there to be put up
later.”
Gille had been looking around
at the activity going on about him. He was still slightly winded from trampling
down the path several times with a heavy carton in his arms. He hadn’t spoken
to anyone yet, but now found he was suddenly feeling desperate to belong. He
walked over to the group of men gathered about the crates and introduced
himself. A little uncertain of himself, he cleared his throat before speaking
up. “Hi. I’m Gille and I’d like to help.”
“I’m Nathan and these men are
Brodie and Hendrik. We’d also like to be kept busy. Got anything specific for
us to do, Aiden?”
“Aye, lads. Would ye be
willing to help distribute some of these supplies as they’re unpacked?” Aiden
asked and got an affirmative nod.
Kevin approached a somewhat
younger, black-haired man standing by the sidelines and looking a little lost.
“Hi! My name’s Kevin. What’s your name?”
“Just call me Dallas,” the
young man answered. He had helped another man named Thad move cartons from the
beach but was wondering what he could do next when Thad went over to offer his
assistance with the meal preparation. Dallas wasn’t exactly a model volunteer.
“Well, it looks like things
are getting organised around here, Dallas. Do you want to join in offering our
assistance?” Kevin smiled. “Anything in particular you’d like to do?”
“I suppose I can offer to
help cook seeing as they’re getting ready to make a meal. I’ve got no idea how
to do much else.” Dallas surprised himself with what he’d said, as it went
totally against his nature to admit to a weakness.
The two approached the
assembled tent and immediately addressed Larry, who seemed to be one of the men
in charge of things. “Hi, I’m Kevin and I’ve got some experience in living
rough as I’ve been travelling around and not always in populated areas.”
“I’m Dallas. I’ve done plenty
of odd jobs around kitchens.” Dallas didn’t add it was usually for a free meal
or while he was checking out a place to break into later, or both.
In no time at all, much to
Kevin’s delight and to Dallas’ chagrin, Larry put them both to work.
TBC…..
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