Rogue's Hollow (21 page)

Travis smiled and licked his lips. “Yum.”

“Yes sir-ee, Bob. Yum would be the appropriate word for it.” Malachi leaned back against the edge of a sticky wooden table. “You sure you’re up for this, Travis? It’s a lot of work. I don’t want it to interfere with your school work.”

“Yeah. I can handle it. It’s only for a little while, right?”

Malachi nodded. “Yep, once the trees start budding, we’re done.”

“Why?”

“The taste of the sap is altered. Some call it ‘buddy syrup.’ It tastes nasty, like bitter butterscotch. So, we’ve only got about a month or so to harvest.”

As they walked outside, Malachi inspected the wood pile. “We’ll need to gather some more wood for the fire, too. We can haul it up here with the tractor and wagon.”

Making their way back down the hill, they paused at the large rock which covered the mine shaft. Malachi placed a hand on the rock, as though honoring them with a momentary silent prayer. As he did this, Travis nonchalantly plucked a flower from the Angel’s Trumpet bush which stood guard beside the rock. He rubbed the flower between his fingers forcing its nectar out. It spilled onto his fingertips which he quickly placed into his mouth and sucked the sweetness off. Malachi never saw a thing. Travis was becoming very crafty at hiding his new habit.

He closed his eyes and smiled as the drug began to block out the real world. It didn’t put him in a fog as most drugs would. In fact, this plant helped him see everything more clearly. But, as good as it made him feel, he wondered how long he could keep his little secret.

Twenty-One

O
ver the next week, Travis faithfully emptied the buckets into the cooler every day after school. He would spend hours alone out in the woods. By the time the weekend arrived, he’d collected twenty gallons of sap waiting to be steeped down into luscious syrup. Malachi couldn’t wait to get out there and show him the ropes. It was an annual task that Malachi loved.

Their small tractor pulled the trailer through the woods with ease, pausing along the way as they scrounged for wood to take up to the sugar camp. By the time they reached the shack, their wagon overflowed with sticks and logs.

Baxter ran out of the woods and greeted them with a wagging tail and slobbery tongue. Malachi patted the dog on his head. “Good to see you again, my old friend.” The dog sniffed the cart with eager anticipation. Then he looked at them and whimpered. Malachi opened his cooler and grabbed a handful of pretzels. Feeding them to the dog one at a time, he talked to him with each crunchy treat. Malachi believed that animals had souls and should be treated with respect, same as any other person. He visited with Baxter until his handful of treats was depleted. Then he patted the pooch on the head and got busy.

Malachi went straight to work building a fire as Travis unloaded the wood, stacking it next to the building under an overhang to keep it dry. Travis wiped his brow and then stood back, watching the smoke billow from the metal vent pipe on the roof. He stepped inside and looked at the ceiling. “How does all that smoke funnel out of the stack like that?”

Malachi smiled and touched his temple with his stumpy finger. “Our ancestors were very smart. They built this shack much like a teepee. It’s designed so that the smoke will rise to the highest arch, and then it’s filtered out through the pipe in the roof.” He motioned around them. “Down here, we’re smoke free. Up there, it’s thick as mud.”

Travis nodded. “Clever. Where did they get the idea from? Were they friends with any Indians? I don’t remember reading that in the book, but then again, I couldn’t make out half of what they were talking about most of the time.”

Malachi smiled. “I’ve had to read that book several times over trying to make sense of it myself, so don’t feel bad. They tapped to their own tune, that’s for sure. Honestly, I don’t know where they got the idea from. I can’t recall reading anything either about any Indians they came in contact with. Although, I do remember something in one of the journals about a vision of a warrior who visited them. Maybe they got the idea from one of their Indian hallucination friends.”

Travis bristled a bit, “Maybe it wasn’t a hallucination, Malachi. Did you ever think of that? Maybe there really was an Indian warrior here who taught them how to build this. Ever think of that?”

“No, son. I never thought of that. Maybe you’re right. I shouldn’t go judging people before I’ve walked a mile in their moccasins.” Malachi took a deep breath and tried to change the subject. “Okay, so we need to get a good fire going. Leave that door cracked open; it get’s hot as blazes in here. Plus, it lets Baxter come and go as he pleases. Help me place the spider and the cauldron on top of the wood. It’ll take a while after we start the fire for the cast iron to get good and hot. When it does, then we’ll start pouring the sap buckets from the cooler into it.”

“How long will this take?”

“All day, son. That’s why I packed us some food. It’s not wise to leave the fire unattended, so we’ll stay with it all day. At least in shifts.”

Travis nodded. “Okay, so what do we do next?”

Malachi smiled at how anxious Travis was to learn how to make maple syrup. He found that aging and the thought of death became less fearful and more of a comfort knowing that there was someone left behind to carry on the traditions.

They dedicated the remainder of the day to that old sugar shack. Malachi stayed nearby, but occasionally Travis would need a break and wander off into the woods for a spell. He would get antsy and uptight, but after a short walk he was calm again. It amazed Malachi how just a short interaction with nature could change one’s entire outlook.

He had no idea that Travis was wandering over to the old mine shaft to get a quick fix from the Angel’s Trumpet bush. When it would wear off, Travis would get nervous. As soon as he got another dose in his system, he was okay again. His body was calm, but his mind continued to race. At first it worried him when he began to hear faint voices, but over time he was beginning to find them comforting. Almost like friends or angels watching over him, keeping him safe. He became convinced that the Angel’s Trumpet really was ‘angel blessings’ sent from heaven above to help him deal with all the shit life threw at him.

Sweet goodness filled the air as the sap gently boiled. The roaring hot fire and smell of bubbling sugar meant that spring had finally arrived. Malachi couldn’t wipe the grin off his face, he was so happy.

Travis was very helpful as they filled up the small bottles with warm maple syrup. These would sell fast at the general store. As soon as local folks got a whiff of the sweet sap cooking, they’d come in droves to make their purchases.

It would take a while longer for the tourist business to pick back up, but within several weeks folks would be taking weekend jaunts and the store would be hopping again. That first break in the brutal northern Ohio winter served as an open invitation for people to get in their cars and take small road trips. Eventually, they would find Rogue’s Hollow, tucked away in a sleepy little valley, just a tiny blurb on the map and of course Malachi graciously greeted them with his trademark line when the cowbell chimed as the door was pushed open,
Welcome to Rogue’s Hollow, folks. Where strangers are just friends we’ve yet to meet.

Even though it was late when they finally got back to the mill, Travis went straight to work building a display of maple syrup bottles near the front door. He designed a stacking pyramid shape.

It looked really cool, but needed to be restocked constantly. Every time someone would grab a few bottles off the top, it would lose its interesting shape and require a re-build. This irritated Malachi, but Travis loved it and would rush right over to add more bottles as soon as some were purchased.

First in the shop Monday morning was Roberta, with Baxter in tow. The dog rushed to Malachi who promptly gave him a treat. He adored Baxter and would pat him on the head and talk to him like he was a human friend. It made Travis smile to watch their interaction.

“Morning, Malachi!” Roberta’s gruff voice bellowed throughout the store.

“Hello, neighbor. How’s life been treating you?”

She shook her head in disgust. “These winters just keep getting tougher and tougher.”

“No, we just keep getting older and older,” Malachi said with a grin.

“Speak for yourself old man.” Roberta quipped with a crooked grin. She looked around and nodded. “Place looks real good, Malachi. You’ve been doing a lot of work around here.”

Malachi motioned to Travis who was busy checking expiration dates of goods on the shelves. “He’s the one that deserves the praise. Travis has been quite a blessing to me around here.”

Roberta turned and looked him up and down, sizing him up. She furrowed her brow and snapped, “Who the hell is that?”

Travis reared back which made Malachi chuckle. Travis wasn’t accustomed to Roberta’s harsh ways, but Malachi knew full well that her bark was far worse than her bite. She came across as a real pain, but he’d known her long enough to understand how kind hearted she truly was, underneath the gruff exterior.

Roberta had stopped by a few times over the winter months, but always when Travis had been at school. Malachi stepped out from behind the counter and introduced him. “Roberta, remember I told you that I had a young man living with me? This is Travis Edington.”

Roberta scowled and looked back and forth. “Oh yeah, I figured he’d be gone by now. Why is he still here?”

“He works here Roberta. He also lives here, too. I told you that.”

“Since when do you go around picking up strays?”

Malachi patted Baxter on the head and smiled at her. “You’ve got no room to talk.”

“That’s different. He’s a damn dog, Malachi.”

“You’re right, and this is a fine young man who has been a great help to me with this run down, raggedy old general store.”

Roberta crossed her arms over her chest and sighed loudly in disapproval.

“You, yourself said how nice it looks around here. Travis did all this. Painted the outside, weather proofed, and even repaired the bridge.”

She walked over to him and stared into his eyes. “Well, I guess it’s nice to meet you, Travis Edington. You from ‘round these parts?”

Nervously, Travis replied, “Yes, ma’am. I’m from Canal Fulton.”

“Still in school?”

“Yes, ma’am. I graduate this year.”

“Good for you. Education is the backbone of our society. At least you’re not some dropout thug mooching off a kind old man.”

Travis shook his head. “No, ma’am. Malachi’s been good to me and I work real hard to repay him.”

She nodded and looked around. “Well, I must admit, the place looks real nice.”

Travis smiled. “Thank you, ma’am.”

She waved her arm and snapped at him. “And quit calling me ‘ma’am.’ Good God, I’m not that old. So, where’s the goods, gents? I smelled it all weekend. You can’t hide it from me. I’ve been drooling all morning in anticipation of pancakes with fresh maple syrup.”

“Right this way, ma’am.” Travis caught himself and quickly continued, “I mean, Miss Roberta.”

She tried not to smile, but the corners of her mouth curled as her heart softened. She gave Malachi a little wink and said, “Gosh, I must admit, he is adorable.”

Malachi smiled and shook his stumpy finger at her. “Now, don’t go trying to steal my help away.”

“I do have a few handyman chores that need done at my place. If you ever need a little extra cash, that is.”

Travis looked at Malachi, almost seeking his permission. “He’s pretty busy right now with the syrup, but that will be over in a couple of weeks. It’d be fine with me if you’d like to do some work for Roberta.”

Travis nodded. “Yeah, I can always use some extra money.”

“I suppose I can put it off a couple more weeks. I’ve waited this long.” She gathered up several jugs of syrup and headed to the counter to pay.

“We probably wouldn’t have had a syrup harvest at all this year if it weren’t for Travis. I had contemplated giving it up all together. It’s a lot of work and heavy lifting. Travis was a huge help to me.”

Roberta looked at the boy intently. “He sure is sold on you. Malachi is a good judge of character so I reckon you must be alright.”

“He’s better than alright, he’s outta sight!”

Roberta rolled her eyes at his joke, tossed a twenty dollar bill on the counter and headed towards the door. “Come on, Baxter. Let’s get out of here before his so-called sense of humor rubs off on us.”

“Wait for your change, neighbor!”

She grinned to herself as she continued walking away, waving with her back turned towards them as she left.

Travis looked at Malachi with wide eyes and said, “Wow. What was that?”

Malachi burst out laughing. “That would be our one and only Roberta. She’s a hoot.”

“Yeah, that’s an understatement.”

“She can come across a little intimidating.”

Travis nodded. “You can say that again.”

Malachi grabbed his shoulder, reassuringly. “She’s a pussycat. Don’t let her get to you. Plus, you got some work out of her. Now, come on and let’s get this store ready for business.”