10 Pound Bag Ch. 200-204

Chapter 200 -- Confrontation

By: Emmeran, 1 May 2022

Editor: nnpdad 11 May 2022

Like acne on a teenager's face, that festering situation with Mrs. Browne was bound to come to a head soon. I knew it had to be expunged and properly cleansed to prevent re-occurrence. Well come to a head it did, on a chilly, wet early autumn morning. It was a nasty, miserable bit of weather to tell the truth, the short of wet cold which sneaks into every crevice of your clothing and being. A misty fog rolled down the river valley basically raining on everything it touched; cold and clammy would be the appropriate description.

It wasn't a dense fog however and visibility was adequate for our slow passage up-river. So everyone shook it off, grabbed some leftover bread and proceeded to break camp to get moving for the day. Amos packed our gear while I got the brazier and coffee going on the boat. The crew were making their morning ablutions and everything was proceeding in quiet misery. We all knew that the sooner we were underway the sooner this miserable morning would end. Even Brin knew the program, he made his ablutions, grabbed his current chew bone and occupied his favorite spot on the cargo house roof -- promptly going right back to sleep.

Brin had our travelling routine down to a canine art form. When we stirred in the morning he got moving with us, he knew exactly what was going to happen. When I grabbed his blanket he would grab his current bone and follow along, he knew that wherever that blanket landed he was supposed to be. I found that him following me around strange towns with a big bone in his mouth made people much more comfortable with the big dog. So when I moved his blanket to his spot on the cargo house roof, Brin simply followed along, bone in mouth until I put the blanket in his 'spot'. He stayed there until we were fully underway. He is a pretty smart dog, all things considered.

Sadly enough we weren't destined for a standard clammy morning on that day. We had the Wicked Witch of New England along for the ride -- accent included. The steamboat's boiler was just starting to come up to pressure and I had just put the coffee on the brazier; breakfast would be as soon as Amos got our gear stashed. It was Amos's turn to cook breakfast, we alternated days for cooking on the road -- whoever cooked dinner the night before made breakfast the next morning. I always made the coffee however, because Amos sucked at cooking coffee.

As it turned out my breakfast and coffee were going to be delayed today, not something that lifted my already wet and sour mood. A ruckus arose from the campsite, a high pitched ruckus with a snotty Boston accent. The fog muffled the sound so I couldn't quite make out what was being said but it didn't sound pleasant, I decided to cook coffee and smoke a cigarette, hoping beyond hope that the situation would quickly and peacefully resolve itself. Sadly this turned out to be the volcanic eruption the last few days had foreshadowed and the coffee wasn't even ready yet.

I ran into a frustrated and angry Doc Browne upon climbing down the steep stairs from the roof deck, apparently things had not gone well during the Browne family meeting held out in the foggy camp. At that point my personal frustration with the situation passed the point of no return. I was only a few days from home and I just wanted to get back there as quickly and as quietly as I could. I had a contract deal with the good Doctor, no such obligation existed with his wife. As much as I hated to get involved in family affairs, this person's behavior was now affecting the entire crew and mission. It was no longer a simple domestic problem, this was a business problem. One that I was going to handle immediately.

"Doc, get your kids and your gear on board -- Amos will see that they are fed." My tone was all professional, this was now my problem not his.

I then turned to Sven, "Get the shore party on the beach, we will be casting off in a few minutes." Sven didn't even pause and started barking out orders to the crew as they prepared to push both the boat and the skiff off of the beach.

I joined the shore party in preparing to push off. More specifically I went to the skiff to make a little room at the bow, I had to removed two chairs (one a rocking chair) and managed to make the bow seat available. Anyone sitting there would be facing the backwards but comfort wasn't my problem. I had one of the shore party take the chairs up to the roof deck and another hold the skiff out in the water just deep enough so it floated freely. With that I went to collect or abandon our wayward passenger.

Before I confronted her I stopped to look back and do one final check of the boats, the steamboat was off the beach being held by polemen and the skiff was being held by the tow ropes and steadied by the last of the shore party still on the beach. The fog was starting to dissipate and the sky above was clear and a promising blue, it was going to be a nice day.

With every piece set in place I heaved a sigh and turned to face the belligerent bitch who was making the start of my day difficult. Mrs. Browne was sitting on her bedroll stubbornly staring at me as I approached, I could see her winding herself up to deliver yet another tirade of venomous vitriol. I didn't even let her get started, I used my 'Dad' voice on her and said, "We are leaving now, you may stay if you wish but we are going."

With that I turned and walked away.

Chapter 201 -- Culmination

By: Emmeran, 3 May 2022

Editor: nnpdad 11 May 2022

I walked. Just simply walked. No hurry, no stomping, I just walked. I walked like I was only going down to take a look at the river.

I walked like I didn't give a damn and the truth was that I didn't. I had about forty yards to walk down to the river and the morning was starting to turn nice, so I enjoyed myself and walked.

It would have been a nicer walk if I could have listened to the morning birds, instead I could only hear the harpy screeching and screaming behind me. Even that noise stopped after about 20 yards so I wasn't fussed about that noise either way.

I simply walked down to the water's edge and sat down on a log to pull off my boots, I would have to wade out to the boat and wasn't the least bit interested having to deal with waterlogged boots the next few days. I heard the patting of footsteps running up behind me and the desperate yet annoying voice of Mrs. Browne. I had only managed to remove one boot and accompanying sock when she arrived.

"I'm sorry Zach! I'm so sorry, I don't know what came over me! Please forgive me, Zach." She pleaded in her best manipulative tone.

I simply turned and looked at her blandly and stated, "It's Mr. Narrator to you."

The look that flashed across her face said a lot more than she wanted me to hear, she paused for a moment and then turned on the waterworks. Now back when I was a very young man I would fall for the crying bit when girls played that card, but that was then and I had learned a lot since that time. Now it just pissed me off.

"You apparently still aren't ready to go since your bedroll and bag are still up in the camp site.

"Tell you what, that boat is leaving as soon as I wade out there and climb on board. If you are ready you can go with us so I suggest you run fast because personally I'd rather leave you here."

With that being said I turned back and started tugging off my remaining boot, it sounded like she left at a sprint -- so much for crying. I stuffed my socks down into my boots, stood up and walked into the river.

I was at the steamboat, chest deep in the river, handing my boots up to Amos when I heard heavy breathing and her splashing into the water behind me. I handed the boots up, turned to look at her and said loudly "Stop!"

Now I could see a look of panic on her face, the evil part of my soul was pleased to see the hope wash out of her eyes.

I pointed back at the skiff, "You ride in that boat today."

I turned back and allowed the boatmen to help me up onto the deck, I could hear the boatman that was holding the skiff tell her to hurry the fuck up. I ended up watching the show from up on the roof deck sitting in one of her chairs while pulling my boots back on. Sven and Amos were watching the show with me, Doc Browne had done the smart thing and stayed with his kids inside the cargo house. Those poor kids didn't need to suffer the spectacle of their mother's humiliation.

By this point she was completely flustered and appeared to be crying real tears. The boatman seemed to take pity on her and threw her bedroll and blanket up onto the skiff for her. He wasn't able to help her up though, as his focus was needed to steady the skiff so it didn't flip when she climbed in. At least that was what I told him to say.

She only fell back into the river twice before she figured out how to pull herself in. In the meantime she had managed to completely soak herself. I wasn't cruel enough to laugh out loud but I did enjoy the sweet taste of minor victory as she sat there shivering on that tiny bow seat. Truth to be told I did buy into the betting pool on how long it would take her to figure out that she had a blanket to warm herself with, right there in her dry bedroll. Sadly I didn't win that pool bet.

I heard the solid thunk of the paddle wheel gear engaging and after a minute or so the slow change of momentum shift as we began to gently gain forward momentum against the current. The boatman who had assisted her had climbed up one of the tow ropes to board the steamboat and we were finally on the go.

She would have a miserable trip of it today but once she finished her current self-pity party and took a look around she would discover a bag with bread, cheese and fruit in it stashed in plain sight. She'd also find a flaxen water bag right next to it, drinking directly from the river was strictly forbidden. Bears may shit in the woods from time to time but it's a well known fact that they always piss in the water.

I was done with her for the day, I didn't want to see her or talk about her before tomorrow morning. All I really wanted was to finally have my morning cup of coffee. So I took that rocking chair I had requisitioned from her furniture pile and set it up at my favorite location on the roof deck. Then I grabbed my cup and headed over to get my long overdue morning coffee. After I'd had that coffee and a smoke, I'd find some food and finally settle down for the day's journey.

Alas! I despaired, for the cupboard was bare! Damned to an endless torture by an empty pot and cruel compatriots who would gluttonize a man's coffee!

In other words they had drank all of my damned coffee and not bothered to put a new pot to boil. I damn near lost my mind and was building up quite a head of steam cursing. The initial anathemas were mostly unheard but the stress of the situation came flowing out of me with increasing volume. I do recall telling Sven that he was lower than whale shit because whales shit on the bottom of the deepest ocean and he was lower than that.

I was so wound up that I didn't even hear their laughter, I just damned them even harder until a mug of coffee was produced and stuffed into my hands. It took me a few moments to realize that I'd just been had by a third grade level prank. I grabbed the mug, stalked over to my new seat, sat down and sipped my morning coffee and smoked my morning cigarette.

The sun broke through and all was right in my world again.

Chapter 202 -- A Brief Respite

By: Emmeran, 5 May 2022

Editor: nnpdad 11 May 2022

A simple rocking chair. It was amazing what luxury felt like out on the frontier. I sat there in the rocker on the roof deck of my clunky steamboat and enjoyed life as we chugged slowly upriver in the crisp autumn morning air. I had learned long before then to enjoy each and every savory moment when they happened and to embed them in my memory if I could. Attitude is everything when it comes to enjoying life; the coffee tastes better, the girls are prettier and your conversations with friends ever so much more fulfilling.

Now a rocking chair, despite all its rustic charm, is by no means better than a modern executive office chair; the modern chairs had all the bells and whistles built in on the assembly line. However everything I wanted could be had in 1820 but it would take a while before we had time to focus on things like that. Chairs, tables and beds were a significant concern to us right now when it came to furniture, but overall food, shelter and warmth were still our greatest priorities.

Even still, I enjoy a well made rocker when there is time to pass. I had three days left on this trip and I planned to spend that time well, doing nothing more that strengthening relationships with Capt. Sven and Doc Browne. Well I also intended to plot and plan quite a bit.

I really didn't talk to Doc Browne much that day. It was obvious that he was incredibly embarrassed by the happenings of the morning. He spent a lot of time with his kids over the next few days and I got the feeling he got closer to them then he ever had before. By the third day, the brats were starting to display a lot more of his mannerisms than hers; that would help them -- showing up in Rulo as the new kids with a 'better than you' attitude would have gone poorly for them.

It was a calm and peaceful day until evening came, evening meant we camped and also meant that the Harpy was out in public again. The screeching and squawking started up about thirty minutes after we made camp and continued on until sometime after full dark. I was not amused and decided right then and there that she had just booked herself into cargo class seating again.

Morning was as least quiet. To keep it that way I was having my coffee on the shore next to the gangway. I sincerely hoped that this went smoother this morning and surprisingly it did. When the Browne family came walking up carrying their gear I merely looked at her and pointed to the beached skiff, she stiffened for a moment but went quietly. She didn't get soaked this morning so she was definitely better off than the previous day.

The shore party pushed us off and we slowly got underway, the day was drama free thus far and I intended to keep it that way. I made breakfast for Amos and myself and took some extra bread I had made down to the Browne family, they seemed to appreciate the fresh hot bread. Apparently Mrs. Browne needed some kitchen training and I knew just the woman to do that, in fact I could hardly wait to introduce her to Matilda.

I pulled the Doc aside, "Doc, as a favor to me please set up your family's tent at our camp fire tonight."

"Why?"

"Well Doc, I'd like some peace and quiet these last nights before we get to Rulo. Once we get there I'm going to be busier than a bee in the spring time." I answered with a smile, "And I figure that if you are sharing a fire with Amos and me, the night should be fairly quiet."

That brought a grin to his face. "Any chance Sven will be there?"

"Probably. He sure does enjoy a bit of my whiskey at the end of the day. But he's good company and keeps us all laughing, I figure it's a fair trade."

"Count me in!" his enthusiasm was quite real.

"One more thing" I added, "why don't you and your kids try to catch some fish this morning. We can cook it up for dinner to go along with the prairie chicken Amos stumbled across this morning. Amos has all the gear you need to fish with and it looks to be a nice day for it"

I walked away feeling good about the conversation, I actually liked Doc quite a bit and I felt that he would become an important piece of Rulo as time went on. His wife on the other hand, well I'd like Matilda deal with her.

I retreated to the roof deck and into the rocking chair and enjoying the mood of the day, it was turning out to be a very relaxing. Relaxation was something I desperately needed before we got into the hustle and bustle of Rulo during harvest time. Even thinking about it was stressful and I knew for certain that Sonya would be dropping a inches deep pile of paperwork in front of me the moment I sat down.

The boat chugged steadily along and I could hear them shoveling charcoal into the boiler down below. That got me thinking about coal and its availability in my area, there was much of it but we weren't looking to commercially export the stuff. Happy for the distraction I dug into my bag and pulled out my trusty book/mobile computer, a quick search showed me that sure enough there were some thin coal veins in our area. Just south of a future town which will be named Peru, in the Honey Creek Hills. That was about all the data that I had with me but we had a digital copy of the full geographic report back in Rulo, the broken link on my handheld told me so.

We needed that coal to run our small industrial base, charcoal was time consuming to produce and didn't release as much energy as coal did. We needed that energy, in fact I rather preferred to have only a small mine -- I wasn't the least bit interested in destroying my home to make a few bucks. I recalled that there were a few low volume, low grade oil patches as well in our area. Again enough for our use but not viable for commercial extraction even in the future era of fracking. It was almost too good to be true, now I just needed to find a miner or two and somebody who knew something about drilling. This would all have to wait for the spring but it was cheery news nonetheless.

There would be some hearty fun around the campfire tonight.

It seems that good things happened whenever I had a rocking chair.

Chapter 203 -- Bonding with the Boys

By: Emmeran, 5 May 2022

Editor: nnpdad 11 May 2022

There is nothing quite like hanging out around a campfire with friends. It was a warm autumn evening and we had prairie chicken and fish on the coals slowly bringing our dinner and eventual breakfast to fruition. We had potatoes, carrots, mushrooms and onions roasting as well. The food had all been cleaned & prepped and then wrapped in wild cabbage leaves; we then packed river clay around them and set them on the coals to cook. No need for aluminum foil here, Lady Gaia doth provide to those who know where to look.

The campfire was my usual oblong affair, allowing me to scrape coals away from the happy campfire flames for the slow steady need of the roasting food. To be truthful there were some strips of bison and venison snuck in there to cook also. I've never been much of a fish fan and there isn't much to a prairie chicken once you get the feathers off of its carcass. Those prairie chickens were the dominant ground fowl in North America until the pheasant was introduced as a game bird in the late 18^th century. But the parasitic pheasant would mark the end of the native North American ground fowl like the colorful and noisy 'Prairie Boomer'. The pheasant was definitely an invasive species. Turkeys were around as well but they thrived more near human population centers than out here on the frontier where the coyote, wolf and big cat still hunted.

It was a nice autumn evening and the heat of the day was bleeding off slowly. The food was cooking and the beer had been chilled in the river for the better half of the afternoon. The Browne kids were full of cheer and telling everyone thrice how they had battled and defeated this or that fish, Dad Browne was suitably proud and amused by his offspring. Mrs. Browne didn't say a word and any time she tried to rain on the kids' parade, Doc hushed her right up and went back to drinking beer and telling stories with Sven and me. Amos turned out to be a spectacular babysitter and the kids just adored him; of course, Brin was thrilled by the attention he got.