“What on earth?” she started over, though cautiously. “You found a Frazzle cat?”
“Apparently so. Geoff thinks she imprinted on me.”
“For you to be carrying her like that, I’d say definitely. Here, bring her inside.” Liesel led the way back to the house, then looked at Geoff. “You got a turkey?”
“Two,” he said, showing her the other. “What should I do with them?”
“We’ll want to scald them in boiling water, then add cold to temper it. That will cause the feathers to loosen up, and makeit easier to pluck. After that, we’ll gut them, cut them, smoke one and three quarters of the other, and use half a turkey breast to make a big stew.” Liesel motioned for me to set the Frazzle down on the table, after sweeping the table cloth and flowers off it.
I put the cat on the table, the sat down to watch her. She was still sleepy, but she let out a plaintive yowl and made sucking motions with her mouth.
“She’s a baby,” Liesel said. “Did you see any signs of the mother?”
“If I had, I would have left her there. But no, there wasn’t any sign of the mama whatsoever. What do I do with her?” I had no clue what came next.
“She’s going to depend on you. You’ll need to feed her, to groom her, and to teach her how to hunt. Frazzles can make good hunting cats, and they’re very protective,” Liesel said. “They’re considered good luck charms in many areas of Abarria. In fact, people who find them and bond with them are said to be blessed by the gods.”
“What does she eat? She’s hungry. I have no clue how to take care of her.”
“Wait here,” Liesel said, heading over to the cookstove. Using a pair of tongs, she picked out several large pieces of meat, then—on a cutting board—diced them into small pieces. She handed me the bowl. “Put a piece next to her nose, then set it in front of her.”
Sure enough, after a moment the Frazzle got the idea and began to eat, making little moophy noises as she did. I emptied the bowl, watching her chow down, and then—within a few minutes, she fell asleep, curled up next to me.
I petted her for a moment, then sighed. I could barely take care of myself? What was I going to do with this creature? And, what if we did get out of the game? What would become ofher. Sym or not, I didn’t believe this was all just the result of programming. No, I sensed the bond there, and the intelligence behind it. And…beyond that, there was something I didn’t expect to feel: a connection, one that was as close to a family bond as I’d felt in years. And I couldn’t help it—I felt it to my core, and the very fact that it hit me so hard, scared the hell out of me.
CHAPTER 20: IN WHICH WE BEGIN PREPARATIONS FOR THE LONG HAUL
“These are fantastic turkeys,”Liesel said. She was standing near a large vat of water that was hanging over an open fire in the yard. One of the turkeys had already been scalded, and it was on a makeshift picnic table, where Geoff was plucking it. Liesel had just lowered the second one into the water, and was counting the seconds till she took it out.
“How long does it take to scald them?” I asked.
“Just a minute or two. The larger the bird, the longer it takes, but it’s never over a couple minutes. At least not for turkeys. For chickens, it’s thirty seconds or so. There, that should be it,” she said, using tongs to test the feathers. She motioned to Geoff, who came over and helped her lift the bird out of the boiling water. It was tied to a wooden X by the feet.
He carried it over to the opposite end of the table on which he was plucking the first one, and Liesel got busy, removing the feathers.
“When do you …clean it?” I asked. I’d never watched someone clean any animal. Even a fish.
“After the feathers are out, we eviscerate the turkeys and removing everything that needs removed,” she said. “I had to learn all sorts of homesteading techniques when I signed upfor this job. Abarria Game-Guides runs you though a six-week training camp. We got paid for our training time, and then—if we want to continue—we sign a contract for five years. There are a few escape clauses, but you must really commit if you want to work inside the game.”
It was growing dark when we finished up with the turkeys. Liesel had put together a makeshift smoker—it wasn’t great, but it would do until we could make a good one.
While she and Geoff salted the turkeys, spiced them, and got most of them into the smoker, I hunted for the root cellar. It wasn’t long before I found it, out behind the back of the house.
Using Liesel’s flashlight, I opened the door and crept down the stairs. They were solid—cut into the dirt and reinforced with stone, and the steps led me into a large storage room. It was cool, shaded well away from the sun, and there was an enclosed trough.
The trough looked like it was meant for holding something but I wasn’t sure what. I cleaned out the spiders that had made themselves at home, and looked for any signs of rodents, but there weren’t any droppings or telltale smell.
Against one side of the cellar, there were a couple of benches. Build in shelves lined the rest of the walls, and then several bins in the center were obviously meant for holding crops like apples or squash or potatoes. I found a couple LED lights that still worked, and turned them on to finish tidying up. By the time I was done, the place looked ready for new crops and I turned off the lights, one of which was by the door, and headed out, firmly closing the door behind me.
As I returned to the front yard, Ray and Reggie returned from the stream, a bucket full of fat trout in hand. As Ray and Reggie began to clean and gut the fish, Liesel prepared a batter to fry them up. Brynn and Thornhold had gone to the orchards to gather the fallen apples. They returned as dusk fell, pullinga small cart behind them that was overflowing with fruit, along with scattered potatoes, pumpkins, and cabbages that had been left behind in the fields.
“I’ve got the root cellar ready,” I said. “What’s the rule on using it? And what’s that trough for? It’s not like the other bins.”
“The trough is used for ice. During winter, the streams and lakes freeze over, and we can cut blocks of ice. I think they were going to move to making it all for show—but now I’m glad they didn’t. Who knows whether all the systems would have held up. As for storing produce, you just must make certain not to put any bruised or damaged produce in there, or it will rot and destroy everything,” Liesel said.
“What’s this?” Brynn had discovered my Frazzle cat—who was still sleeping soundly in the corner on a blanket.
“I found her when we were out hunting turkeys,” I said. “By the way, Geoff and I managed to catch two of the birds. She’s apparently a Frazzle cat?—”
