Chapter 3 - Shelter 2

Tom: (concurrent with previous chapter)

We’re walking three abreast, Ahana between Jen and me. The Indian gal seems a little down. “So what’s got you depressed, Ahana?” I ask.

“You know tools, Jennifer knows bow-hunting, Teresa knows plants. All I know how to do is cook things. How is that going to help?”

“Well, it’ll give us variety, keep us from getting bored with bland,” I say. “Remember what I said before we split up. Is there anything from growing up you can think of?”

“I don’t know. My mother’s brother is the one who got us out of Kolkata and to America. Before that we were poor and had to scrounge even for food.”

“That’s a skill.”

She gives me a look. “My brother and I would raid garbage cans behind restaurants for scraps. Mother would combine things to make them at least edible and not taste like the garbage they were.”

“How much did she teach you about that?”

“Everything. Some days I would cook what we found. I still do not see how this will help us here.”

“Think about it for a minute. We’re going to have to scrounge whatever we can find. Roots, nuts, even acorns. Things most people would pass up even if they were hungry, but we need to eat. If you can prepare them in a way that makes them more palatable...”

“Then everyone eats what they normally wouldn’t,” she finishes. She stops walking and I pull up, Jennifer a couple steps later. “So my knowledge isn’t useless?”

“It’s going to be about as important as anything else we do,” I smile.

She hesitates a moment then puts her hands together in front of her face and gives a bow to me. I think for a moment ... Indian custom, then I put my club down to imitate it back to her, to a smile from her that shows teeth. “You know our customs?”

“I’m a quick learner,” I chuckle. “Survival habit from Afghanistan, how to deal with the locals and not get them mad at you.”

“I will not get mad if you err, but I will correct you ... respectfully of course.”

“If you need to thwap me upside the head to teach me, do it. It’s effective.” Then I give her a wink.

A short laugh from her. “I do not think the Buddha would approve of that method of teaching,” she says.

I chuckle again, then pick up my club and we continue on.

“I would wish for something to wear,” Ahana mutters a little later.

“Might be a bit for that,” I say. A glance from her and I shrug. “Once we get some animals we can make leather, though it’s a nasty process and we need some things for that.”

“Hey, if you got it, why worry,” Jennifer says. We both look at her and she’s walking proud. “I don’t know about Tom here but I know both Mik and Sean were appreciating the way you look,” she says to the Indian gal.

A sigh then Ahana says, “In my country, nudity is not widely accepted. I am calling on the teachings of the Buddha to calm me, but I am uncomfortable being this way.” She looks at me and asks, “While I would object to the killing of animals for any reason, I do know it is necessary here. I do not think leather would suit me though, I would feel ... dirtied.”

I stop again and they do too, I take a chance on violating custom and put a hand on her shoulder. “I know enough about Buddhism that eating meat is against the rules. I think you need to consider one thing though. What we can gather here for plants might not be enough to keep you healthy, so you might have to break that.”

She looks pained. “I have never eaten meat my entire life, my stomach turns at the thought. But I also know you are correct. I will meditate on this, try to think what the Buddha would do if faced with the same situation.”

“That’s all I’m asking.”

“Well I’ll eat her share if it comes to that,” Jennifer says. We look at her and she’s grinning. “Grandpa taught me how to hunt rabbits and hares with a traditional bow. I also know how to prepare them, what parts are good eating and I helped him turn the skins into leather.”

“Good,” I say as we start walking again, me scanning the cliff-face as we talk. “I’ve studied and memorized the process but I’ve never done it. You’re our leather maker, I’ll be your apprentice.”

“You’re right that we do need some things, but if we can find a clay-bank someplace I can make pots too. That’s how I was funding my college. Natural clay fired in a wood-fueled kiln I made from slab rock in my parent’s yard. Decorated them with the People’s motifs and sold them on Etsy.”

“Ya, I saw some of your work when I was looking over your app. Good stuff and since it was done the old way, we could do it here ... we need those pots for the tanning process.”

“Yep.” Then a short pause before she asks. “So how about you? You don’t seem to mind being in your birthday suit?”

“Field living on patrol. Sometimes the only bath we could get was a rag dampened from a canteen. With the lifting of restrictions on women in combat roles a few years before I got out, I had six in my rifle company. So casual nudity in a mixed group is something to deal with, nothing more.”