Chapter 22

Winter was upon us and everyone else in the area. This time of year is spent doing the minimum outdoors, while making plans for the coming spring. I had discussions with Mom and Millie to get a handle on what they felt we could realistically do during the coming growing season. Our harvests last year were what I considered unusually productive, and we could hardly expect a repeat, although we were going to try.

Millie was worried that her absence was going to be too much of a burden for Mom, but Mom assured her that new leaders among the Latino women were emerging who would be able to do both Millie's and Mom's work. Mom said she was only planning on supervising the coming year, and would try to stay away from the backbreaking work of planting, cultivating, and picking.

I had men trim all of the grapevines in preparation for the new growing season, and also pack straw around the vine stalks, taking special care to pack the new vines planted the past year. It would take a couple of years before we would see the new vines produce much fruit.

The orchards were also part of our preparation for winter. We cut down any dying apple trees and planted new ones. We trimmed our existing trees so that the branches wouldn't hang so low that they were targets for bear and deer. I wanted to work on putting fencing around the orchards and vineyards to let beef stock graze. If my plan worked, I would find yearling beef stock and graze them all spring and summer, then after feeding them some corn to fatten them in the last month to six weeks, they would be off to the butcher and we wouldn't have to carry them over the winter. The price of yearlings might be at breakeven, profit or loss in my thinking. It was worth a try. I needed to begin bargaining for yearlings early in order to have them on the mountain a few weeks after the spring thaw. One of my instructions to Ezra was to begin saving post sized trunks and limbs. We settled on nine foot long, as we thought the deer wouldn't jump more than six feet and we planned on the top strand of barbed wire to be seven feet. Little did we know.

The day was cold, but bearable, as the temp hovered around thirty degrees. I was determined to lower the deer population on the mountain so they didn't strip all the bark off the apple and pear trees. I wouldn't mind if they would stick with the sycamore, hickory, and oak, but they didn't, as the fruit trees must have a special taste.

To be on the heavy side, I took the .308 with the scope with me, and headed for the Jorgenson place, as that was where the deer herd most often hung out. There were patches of grass still visible where snow didn't cover everything. Since the ATV was fairly quiet, I rode it down close to the area where I wanted to be. After shutting it down, I stayed still and listened for close to ten minutes to determine if there were other hunters on the mountain. Most of the locals didn't like to hunt up on the mountain, but a lot of out of town hunters would drive to the area and invade if there were no signs posted.

I didn't hear any sounds of hunters, and I had gone all the way to the road to see if there were any human tracks. I saw a lot of deer tracks, along with numerous rabbit, and several turkey tracks. I would have to consider a wild turkey for a Sunday meal. I did hear some nearby soft shuffling of hooves, but what I heard mostly was the clack, clack of antlers banging on each other. This meant bucks fighting for territory.

I had tags for six deer, which included three does and three bucks. I had Mom and Millie get licenses for more tags so that I could remain sort of legal. I could use the landholder crop damage excuse, but I wanted to stay within the law as much as possible.

Quietly making my way through the snow was easy, but I had to be careful as I had my military parka on and wasn't visible to other hunters. I kept a constant scan for tree stands to make sure I wasn't sneaking up on someone. I came upon the doe herd that had some young deer, but there were also four good sized bucks taking turns on an older buck. The guy wasn't that old, as his rack wasn't that big. I figured him to be about five years old and the younger bucks were all two and three years. The way they were tag teaming the older deer, he would soon wear out, and then they would have to compete among themselves. I decided that if I could get two shots off fast enough, I should use up a couple of my buck tags.

Sitting in a comfortable position with the rifle barrel resting on the limb of a fallen tree, I had a perfect field of fire on all four of the bucks. My intent was to take two of the younger bucks, and try for some doe and another buck another day.

The two resting bucks were standing close to each other, and I practiced quickly going from one to the other to see if I might have a chance at a double. It was nearly perfect, as they were showing me their sides and only about ten feet from each other. From my position of only fifty to sixty yards from them, with nothing between us, I lined up on the buck to my left, thinking that my natural pull to the right while putting a new round in the chamber would put me on the second buck.

Crack!

I cycled the bolt and kept my eye on the scope as I came up on the second buck. He had his head up and hadn't moved, so I sighted in and shot.

Crack!

I watched it fall before swinging back to the first deer. He was down, but thrashing around. He didn't look like he was going to get up, so I swung around to where the last of the three young bucks was still going after the older buck. This was too good to be true, and I sighted in, wanting a clean shot at the younger buck while trying to make sure I wouldn't hit the older one.

When the young buck leaned back on his haunches before charging once again, I fired.

Crack!

The buck didn't go down right away; he stood to stagger and made a mournful howl before tilting over and falling. The old buck was moving back, bellowing at his herd. He vanished and the does disappeared almost as quickly.

Now came the hard part. I thought I might haul the deer up to the house, but decided to field dress them here before hauling them home.

I tagged each of the bucks, then walked to the ATV and drove it closer. Using rope and a small block and tackle, I hoisted each deer up to do the nasty work. Most people pick deer up by the back legs, but I usually did it backwards for two reasons. I like to cut the male scent glands out quickly, and if they are lower, you make it more difficult for a bad cut to taint the meat. The insides naturally fall out easier, and they also bleed out quicker that way.

My skinning knives got a quick workout as I made a big mess below where I dressed the deer. After doing each deer, I loaded it on a tarp in the back of the ATV. I used a shovel to dig up some frozen ground, leaves, and snow to cover the offal, knowing that scavengers would dig it up almost as soon as I left. I made a note of the location with GPS numbers, so I would be sure to get the dead tree I used as a prop pulled out during the coming summer.

At the house, I transferred the three deer from the ATV to the back of my pickup and headed to town. The butcher happily took the deer and took the tags off for the game warden. I was back home in time for me to wash up for lunch. Mom kept telling Millie that I was probably the best hunter in the family and always brought game home. I didn't disagree with her, but she was forgetting the many times I came back empty-handed when I went out for rabbit or quail.

When I told Mom about the wild turkey, she thought that would be a great Sunday meal, but also reminded me that we were going to have a feast of dove breast this coming Sunday, when Summer and Bradley would come by with Stanley and Gracie. Ezra was now a fixture at most of our evening and Sunday meals, and Mom tried to include him on most of our trips to Mount Sterling and Pine Ridge.

We were sitting in the living room, with a fire keeping the house warm, when Mom caught my attention. She nodded toward Millie who was standing at the sink leaning on her hands and breathing heavily. I went to her and asked, "Millie, are you okay? Why are you breathing that way?"

"The doc said I should do that when I get these false contractions. They have been coming pretty hard all morning. I wish they would just go away until the baby is due next week."

Mom was rolling her eyes and told me, "Go warm the truck up. We're taking Millie to let the doc have a look. Come on, Millie, let's get you in a heavy coat and get your bag."

Oh shit, this is the real thing. This is what it's like to become a father. I was so nervous and excited I was fumbling. I kept thinking that I wasn't this nervous when I had gone on patrols where people were going to shoot at me. Of course, I was trained for that. There isn't any training to become a father other than how your father acted, and I don't remember that.

I drove cautiously all the way to the clinic. The doc was expecting us as Mom had called ahead. Mom helped Millie get comfortable while the doc checked her out. The good doctor came out to me and said, "You're obviously on time, but you wouldn't have been in another fifteen minutes. Come on; watch your baby being born."

Mom and I were holding onto a grinning Millie's hands as she pushed her son out into the world. Mom was the first to remark, "You have a son, Mike. Millie, you said you were going to give Mike a boy and you did." Human delivery is similar to animal delivery, except that the baby doesn't try to stand right away. Humans take a long time to grow up while most animals are nearly full grown in a year.

After the doc had me cut the cord, I watched as Millie held her new baby. The doc did all of the follow-up stuff to Millie before turning her attention to the new addition. A nurse was helping the doctor as the two weighed and measured the infant before taking a foot print to make sure he could be identified. When they were done, Millie and the new baby were moved to a room with a couple of other women with new babies.

We watched as the nurse coaxed the baby into nursing on Millie by squeezing out some milk and rubbing it on the infant's mouth. Mom asked Millie, "Did you decide on a name? I know we talked about a lot of them."

"I want to name our baby after a Civil War General. Mike, your mom told me you had a great, great, great uncle that was a Confederate General down in Florida. His name was John B. Grayson. This little baby is John B. Grayson."

I didn't have to ask what the 'B' was for. I was sure the birth certificate would read John Bernard Grayson.

Mom was so excited that she was a wreck. She kept saying how wonderful it was that her youngest was now a father. She also kept telling Millie that she felt like her mother now, so this was especially exciting.

I stepped out of the room and called Summer. I think Millie heard the squeal from the phone. Summer said Bradley and she would be at the clinic in fifteen minutes. She hung up so quickly that I didn't realize the connection was broken. Mom knew who I called, but Millie was still too fascinated by the infant who was still nursing slowly. Mom commented, "When Mike was a baby, he would lay on my stomach and nurse for the longest time. I swear he was a titty baby by the way it took him so long to get his fill."

Summer and Bradley came into the room and were surprised to find the infant still nursing. Mom repeated the story about my slow eating as an infant, and Bradley said, "Well, I can't blame him on keeping it in his mouth for as long as possible."

Summer elbowed Bradley, and then after giving her mom a kiss, she said, "Momma, Bradley and I are going to have a baby, too. We'll have babies that can be friends. I hope I have a boy. Bradley says he needs a lot of boys to help on the farm."

My goodness, I was absolutely delirious to become a dad and maybe become a grandfather in such a short period of time. Mom looked on at us, and smiled with tears in her eyes, as she hugged me close to her. She said, "I'll go call your sister and brother. They told me to be sure to call them as soon as I could."

I could tell Millie was falling asleep, so I suggested that we let the nurse put the infant in the bassinet next to the bed and let Millie have a nap. It was only about five in the afternoon, but all of our stomachs were growling. Mom called Rosita to get the chores taken care of, and later told me the women were all as excited as we were.

We went to the Kitchen for a meal and announced to the world that Mike Grayson was now a dad. There were a lot of slaps on the back and handshaking that Mike was the father of a boy. All of the clichés about growing my own labor and how cheap can a guy get were said. Even the pushy Deputy Sheriff that worked the desk all of the time commented that I might want to read up on child labor laws.

Mom said, "By the time little John gets big enough to work on the farm, it will probably be illegal to use one of your kids under eighteen to help out. I heard a man can't let his kids work on the farm, even chores, before they are sixteen. Heck, my kids helped with chores from the time they were five or six. Picking eggs up was first, then putting hay out, followed by helping with milking until they were big enough to handle the stock. Farm kids need to be a part of the family."

I wasn't going to worry about it. I'm sure the way the family works, John would want to be a part of the farm as soon as he was big enough to help. My immediate concern was the snow that had begun while we were driving in. The way it was coming down was going to make a lot of roads quickly impassable.

I called the trailer and the answering machine picked up. The announcement said, "This is the county road commissioner's help line. All of our trucks are out right now and we will be working to keep our roads passable throughout the night. We will be salting the roads, but watch for ice patches. If we miss someone, leave your name and the road you're having a problem with. Thank you for calling the county road commissioner."

Hoping Jimmy was in a place where he could answer, I called his cell. "Hey, Mike. We have all nine trucks out right now. We should be able to keep up with it. We'll knock off about midnight and begin again about four or five."

"Who's driving the other three trucks?"

"Oh yeah, we have some buddies down for the hunting season, and they have lots of experience plowing snow. I thought it would be neat to have nine trucks on the road at the same time. You don't mind paying three extra men do you?"

"Not in the least, Jimmy. I'm glad to hear you have this weather under control. Did you hear what kind of snowfall is expected?"

Jimmy laughed, "Only that the lowlands could receive as much as six to eight inches, with higher elevations near doubling that. A lot of our roads are at those higher elevations. We'll keep the roads cleared, so don't worry about it. If I get in a panic, I'll call you. The only problem we might have is that this is really wet snow, and a lot of branches may fall. We might need your tree cutting crew. I'll let you know."

Well, that was taken care of. I called Ezra to make sure he had quit for the day and had sent his men home. He reported he had and also had received a call from Mom, letting him know about Millie's and my new son. He said he would stop in at the Kitchen in about five minutes since he had not eaten yet.

Mom told me, "Eat, Mike. You'll need your strength if you end up working all night in this snow. The only thing you should do is go get Millie's truck with the plow and keep the drive cleared. Do Ben's while you're at it. Aren't you glad you just bought those special winter tires with the studs for all our trucks? I knew it was almost past time for that."

"I'll take off and get Millie's truck and clear the drive. I'll come back to town to see Millie and to bring you home so that Ezra doesn't have to drive up the mountain in this weather."

Ezra said, "The boys have the big truck so you can send them on wood deliveries if you want. That big truck has a good four wheel drive transaxle and you put new tires on it as well. They can earn their keep delivering wood to anyone who is panicking. You should probably charge an extra ten bucks a cord. I'm sure the men will get good tips with what you charge."

Going up the mountain wasn't bad yet. There wasn't but about four inches on the roads, but it was going to get deep fast by the way it was coming down. The women were finishing the evening chores when I swapped trucks. I told Rosita and Carmen that they should keep the cell phone close, as there might be a lot of wood calls. She was smiling at that, as it meant some extra money to the families.

I plowed what snow was on our drive and Ben's. As I headed back down the mountain, I dropped the blade on the areas that drifted so that if the big trucks didn't hit our area, we shouldn't have any problem getting home.

At the hospital, Doc told me, "Millie says she wants to take the baby home. She's already been up and the baby is healthy. It's you who has to decide if you want to take the baby home in this weather. I would rather you kept them here tonight and pick them up in the morning. Your Mom agrees with me on this. Go talk to Millie."

I sat on one side of the bed with Millie, while the bassinet was on the other. I talked to Millie, but I doubt she heard much. I finally kissed her and turned her head so she would pay attention. "Millie, Honey, the weather is really bad. Mom and I don't want to risk taking you back up the mountain in the dark. Please, Honey, stay here with John tonight and we will bring you home in the morning. I'll have the road crew make a special trip up the mountain to make sure we get home okay. I'm driving your truck with the plow to knock down drifts but we'll bring Mom's SUV tomorrow. Please Honey, I want you and our baby safe."

Millie smiled at me and told me, "I know you want your new son and me to be safe. I'll stay tonight, but our son needs to be on our mountain tomorrow. I feel it pulling me, Mike. That place is so strange, but it's so much a part of me and us. I think your mom has even become a part of it."

I told Millie how much I loved her and how happy she had made me by having our baby. She almost sat up in bed, puffing her chest out, "And I brought us a boy, a boy to keep the mountain."

Mystery Mountain was a place for some, but not for everyone. The Latinos were happy there. Teddy was contented, and the widow Fletcher was as laid back as an elderly lady could be, but almost all the locals looked at the mountain as if it was tainted. I knew some of the mountain's secrets, but I also knew there were more.

On the way home, I thought we should stop in to see the widow, and almost did 'coitus interuptus' of a Teddy and widow tryst. We were quiet and gently turned around in the widow's drive to head home. Mom said, "You know, Son, that could be Ezra and me if I had another place."

I asked, "Mom, do you want another place so you can entertain Ezra?"

Mom sighed as she answered, "Sometimes, Son. Ezra is a good man and we seem to work, but I don't want to lose what I have. He's the kind of man who might demand a homebound woman. I ain't that, as you well know. I wasn't a house mouse with your dad, and I won't be with any other man. If we ever address it, I'll tell him, but right now, I'd rather live with my son even if it does reek of something strange. Ha, ha, ha, ha."

"Mom, how could you say something like that? I love you, but I wouldn't think of you that way."

"Oh, yeah? You mean that for all those years we wrote each other you never thought we might have a good time in bed? After I got over your father passing away, you were the character in my imagination and dreams, Mike. That may sound sick to you, but it's true. I wanted to lie in your arms and feel you as a man. Ezra is fine, but no substitute for my fantasies."

I was climbing the mountain using the blade when necessary, while we talked. "Mom, you embarrass me. How could I think of you that way? You're my mom."

I almost giggled at the images that raced through my mind.

"Oh, come on, Mike, you know you used to sneak peeks at me when you were a young teen. I use to catch you all of the time, and your underwear told the story when I checked them the next day. See, we're no different, just in a different age and era."

"You have me there, Mom. I did think of you in that way when I was an early teen, then I later wanted a woman that would compare to you. Yes, I fantasized about you from afar and embarrassed myself because I did think of you that way."

"I said it was a fantasy, Mike, not something I want to become a reality. I'm sure you feel the same. When Millie and I talked about fantasies, she wanted to watch you make love to Summer. She said she wanted to watch you impregnate her daughter, but that never happened, of course. Mine was a fantasy too, but Millie told me that if I wanted it, she would make sure it happened. You see, Mike; your women love you more than you'll ever know. Don't worry, Son, I won't put the moves on you."

There was another nervous laugh before Mom patted me on the arm.

"Thanks, Mom. I always worried about those fantasies, but they only existed while I was far away."

We finally made it home, and I had to knock two feet of snow from the entrance to the machine shed before I could park Millie's truck. While Mom went inside, I made the tour of the property to make sure the water supplies were turned off, except for the feed to the milking parlor that was buried more then four feet underground. Since the milk house was heated by a burner on low, the water in there wouldn't freeze. I did a double check of the propane tank level and picked up an armload of logs before going into the house.

The fire had almost gone out, but still had enough embers to catch another log. Mom had built the fire up in the bedroom, so the house was soon toasty. Spook and Witch were content to lie by the fire on the big woven rug snoozing. We could hear the wolves trying to beg a warm place to sleep, but they had their own dens to hole up in.

The next morning, Mom and I were up doing chores shortly after five, and were almost done when the ladies from down the hill came in. Rosita apologized for not coming earlier, as she thought we might be sleeping late. I told her that we were used to doing chores, so they shouldn't feel bad. I let one of the Latino ladies finish milking the cow I was working on, and another lady did the third cow. We were easily filling ten gallon cans in the morning, and often almost one and a half of the big cans.

When we were finished and washed up, Mom invited the ladies into the house for breakfast. You could see them look at each other. Rosita told us, "We had to fix breakfast for our men before we came, but we didn't have time to eat. We should probably go home as the men will have to stay inside and won't have anything to do."