I grew up with the backwoods of the Adirondacks. It wasn't an easy life, but it bred in me a love of nature and the area. Mom said I had it in my veins and I knew I would never leave.
Dad worked as a laborer during the day, taking whatever he could to bring home some income, then he drank most of it. Mom cleaned houses and did the best she could on what she made. I stayed home and looked after my younger brother and sister. It was hard when I started going to school, but Mom and me, we worked it out. She insisted that I would finish my learning.
Along with what he made, Dad would hunt. He'd keep part of his kill for us and sell the rest. He was a crack shot, so we thankfully always had something on the table to eat for dinner.
When the weather was warm, I'd take my brother and sister into the woods and we would forage for berries and fruit, adding what we could to our meager table. It wasn't fancy, but if our bellies were full at the end of the day and we had a warm and dry place to sleep at night, it was enough. My entire life was enough.
I squeaked through school, remembering what was useful to me and forgetting the rest. I mean, what was the Gettysburg Address going to do for me when I had hungry siblings to feed and a root cellar to fill?
Summers were the easiest, like the song says. Living was much easier. Game was plenty and everything was growing. Grandma came to stay with us and she taught me more about day-to-day living than school ever did.
She taught me which roots were edible and which ones to stay away from. For example, did you know you could harvest cat tail stalks, peel 'em, then boil 'em up like spaghetti? Lots of starch in 'em, too, and you dry them and grind them up to make flour. You can make a dandy jelly out of dandelions, too. I got really good at it and even sold a few jars, but mostly I just gave them away. It was a good substitute for honey when you didn't feel like fighting the bees for it.
We spent a lot on time on mushrooms. The rule of thumb was to never pick a mushroom with white gills or anything that looked too good to be true. Morals were a fine choice and so were chanterelles because they were distinctive. As my knowledge grew, so did my choices, but I always remembered what Grandma said, "If you don't know, leave it be." Come to think of it, that was good advice for life, too.
She also taught me the healing ways of the forest, which roots and herbs could help cure a tummy ache or womanly pains. The folks from the village would come, not trusting the new doctor and his expensive ways. She could help most of them and never asked for anything in payment, 'cept what they could afford, which wasn't much, but it was enough.
Time tumbled by without thinking about it. First we lost Grandma, which was hard for me. She and I were real close. She taught me all she could and even left her books to me. Mom scoffed, but, to me, they were precious as gold.
The drink took Dad… finally. I stayed home to help Mom out, but my sister and brother scattered to the wind as soon as he was in the ground. I wished them success. Mom didn't make the year out and pretty soon, it was just me in our old broken-down house. I did what I could to keep it airtight and not have too much wind come in in the winter or heat in the summer. Mostly, the days passed in an easy rhythm with Nature.
The town where I'd gone to school sort of dried up and blew away when the mill closed. The few folks left were like me, trapped by either circumstances or a deep love for the land. We nodded when we saw each other and sort of left it at that. And there I sat, year after year, season after season, while my reputation grew. Some called me a witch, others, a healer. Mostly, folks came when they needed help and I never turned no one away. And that was enough. Til one day…
Sadie, my old crow, was perched on the broken-down railing of the front porch, hopping anxiously around when I came out of the woods, carrying a brace of rabbits. That was really strange behavior for her and instantly I knew something wasn't right. I'd raised her from a chick and she never got nervous with a reason.
I set the rabbits down and readied Dad's shotgun, just in case. Last spring, an old bear wandered into the house and I sent her packing. She had two little ones in the bushes and I didn't begrudge her an easy meal. I remembered what it was like trying to keep my brother and sister fed. Still, it didn't mean I wanted them to visit again.
"What's wrong, Sadie?"
"Caw, caw," Sadie replied. She sadly had what you could refer to as a limited vocabulary. Still, she got her point across as she flapped her wings and looked to the house.
"Just so you know, I'm a good shot and I don't want to hurt you." I sounded braver than I was. Sure enough, I heard noise from inside and, a minute later a man appeared, his arms raised above his head.
He was dirty, unshaven and had a look or quiet desperation around his eyes. "I'm sorry if I frightened you. Please, can you help us? My friend's been hurt." I could see mixed with the dirt was blood, some of it shiny fresh.
"I never turned away anyone yet. Let me see." I brought the gun with me, I ain't a fool, and followed him inside.
There was a broken-down old couch that had seen better days when I rescued it from the roadside, but it suited me. There was another fellow on it and he looked pretty bad.
"Hey, there, I'm Marie. Can I take a look?" I talked as I approached slowly, just in case he was gonna try to grab me. These men were strangers to the mountain and there was an air about them. It said they were something more than they appeared.
"Hey, Napoleon," the other name said and knelt beside him. "I've gotten some help."
"Illya? Thought I heard a girl."
"You would, my friend, and in this case, you would be right. She's going to take a look at you."
"And me not at my best."
"Never mind that," I said and carefully lifted the tatters of a white shirt away and whistled. "I've never seen anyone so nicely beaten up."
"Thanks, I think."
It took me a few minutes, but I came to the conclusion that mostly he just needed some time and sleep to heal. We moved him to my bed and I closed the shutters against the afternoon sun. My room wasn't any bigger than a closet, but it had always been my room and I saw no reason to change that. Besides, my parents' room was great for storage and what not since it was on the north of the house.
"Illya?" I said, the name strange to my ears, but I'd heard right.
"Yes?"
"There's a kettle of water on the stove, would you stoke the fire beneath it? I don't have electricity, but there's plenty of wood just outside the back door."
"Of course." He was moving pretty slow and not any more than he needed to. "How is Napoleon?"
"I don't think anything's broken. He just needs something to take the edge off the pain. I'm going to brew him some stinging nettle tea. It'll help. When he's a little stronger, I'll make him some sickelwort stew. Looks like you could use some, too."
"Hmm?" He looked distracted, like he was listening to something in the distance. "Oh, most of this is his."
"But not all?"
"No, but Napoleon is the priority." I barely managed to grab him before he hit the floor. He was not as big as Napoleon, but there seemed to be a lot more to him. Still, I could wrestle a deer carcass, I could do this and I did. Soon, he was resting alongside his friend.
That got me thinking about the carcass that I'd just finished dressing this morning. It was in the icehouse now, but I would have to deal with it soon. Maybe I would make a nice mushroom and venison stew for this evening. Even though it was late May, it was still cold at night.
I gave them both some tea to drink and settled them down. Grabbing my basket, I headed back out. Sadie would take care of them for me.
I was gathering up some Caesar's mushrooms when I heard the noise and was suddenly staring at a gun.
"Who the hell are you?" The guy weren't much bigger than me, but he looked mean, like the way Dad did when he'd had too much. It was always my cue to take my brother and sister and get scarce.
"I live here, as a matter of fact. Who the hell are you?" No one talked to me like that, not on my mountain.
He drew a hand back to slap me and I felt the knife in my hand. I couldn't kill him with it, but he could lose a couple of fingers right quick.
Another man, taller and more authoritative looking, caught the man's hand. "None of that, Tyler. She might be able to help us." He studied me and I suddenly wanted to throw up, the look in his eyes. "We are looking for some men. They are very dangerous. What they might to you a sweet little thing like you would be unspeakable."
As opposed to what you want to do, I thought. "No, I haven't seen anyone, but I've been in the woods most of the morning. What do they look like?"
"One's got dark hair and the other's a blond. He's the dangerous one of the pair. We need them back."
"Are you police fellas?" I let my accent get a bit looser, let them think I wasn't as on the ball as I was.
"Not like the revenuers you mean."
I nearly laughed. No one up here feared them because we didn't do any distillin'. That was farther south. My eyes narrowed as if I was trying to figure them out. "'Kay, but I still ain't seen anyone."
"What are you doing?"
"Making a mushroom and venison stew for dinner tonight. Just did me a deer this morning."
"You shot it?" They got really threatening then.
"Naw, car hit it. I don't own a pistol." And I didn't, but I had a great collection of rifles out in the back shed, but they didn't need to know that.
"Sounds good. How about you make us some of that and we'll wait and see if these guys show up."
I was panic-stricken, but never let it come to my eyes. Then I noticed a patch of mushrooms glistening in the sun, just begging to be eaten and I nodded. "'Kay, but you have to let me finish collecting mushrooms."
"Can we help?"
"Sure, you see those big fellas by your boots? Those will be lovely." I tipped out the smaller mushrooms I'd already collect. "Don't want to waste time with these tiny things."
They followed me close back to my cabin. Smoke was drifting from the chimney and it welcomed me with open arms. "There's a stream right over there. Would you wash them up for me?"
The shorter guy, Tyler, looked at his boss, who nodded and took the basket. I went inside and tossed my cape casually over the bloody spot that Napoleon had left on the couch. The taller man hesitated and then followed me.
"I don't see any deer."
"It's hanging in the icehouse." I offered him a big knife. "Do you want to cut me off a couple nice steaks?"
"Nope. How about you do it and I keep watch… in case of bear or something."
"'Kay. I picked up the knife and prayed that my plan would work as I walked to the icehouse. I wrestled open the door and nearly screamed at the sight of Illya pointing a rifle at me. For a second, I wondered if I'd guessed wrong.
"Thank god it's you," he whispered and melted back into the shadows.
"Is Napoleon with you," I asked softly.
"He is."
"There are bad men looking for you."
"I know. They are the ones responsible for this." He sounded so tired.
"Hey, who the hell you talking to in there," the tall guy shouted from the porch.
I came back out, holding up the meat. "The deer, Mister. Just thanking him for feeding us."
"What are you going to do?" Illya watched me started to shut the door.
"I have a plan. You sit tight."
The stew smelled wonderful and for a moment, I longed to dip my spoon into that thick gravy and taste it, but I resisted.
Tyler wasn't shy. He'd been hanging over my shoulder for the last half hour. "Man, I'm starving. When is it going to be ready?"
"It's ready now." I started filling two bowls.
"What about you?" The head guy took his and eyed me. I could feel my skin crawl.
"It's my monthly," I lied. "I'll just have some tea. I brewed some ginger and Crampbark tea up. Would you like some?"
"No, thanks." He tasted the stew. "My god, this is amazing, especially the mushrooms. Give me some more of those."
"It's my mom's recipe." I sipped the bitter liquid and closed my eyes. It killed me what I was doing, but it had to be done. "'Scuse me." I hurried off to the outhouse and bolted myself in. It was a good stiff bolt, Mom saw to that. We called it our safe room for when Dad got too wild from the drink.
I sat there for a long time, feeling the air grow colder as the cries and screams grew louder. It usually took between six to twelve hours for the effects to hit, but I'd made sure this stew was mushroom-heavy. The moans were pitiful, but they never found where I'd run to. I'm guessing the outhouse is the last place they would have thought of someone hiding, it's being summer and all.
It was dark and the cries had become low and painful sounding. I crept off to the icehouse and let myself in.
"Illya?"
"He's sleeping." The voice that answered me was tired but stronger.
"Napoleon?"
"Thanks to you." He looked a little confused as I lit a lantern. "What happened out there?"
"Some police fellas, or so they say, came looking for you and I guess they picked the wrong mushrooms. Unless you know what you are doing, it can be hard to tell Amanita phalloids from regular mushrooms."
"Amanita phalloid?"
"You know them better as Death Caps."
"What did you do?"
"Just like that Shakespeare fella, I served them up in a stew."
"The men?"
"No, silly, the mushrooms. My mom made that recipe once and Dad was never the same after it." I looked back towards my house where it had gotten really quiet. "Guess I should go and dump it now. Don't want someone I like to get a hold of it. 'Spect we should call someone to help them, though."
"You have a phone?"
"Yup, but I don't use it much. I suspect it still works."
Sadly, it was too late for those other fellas and I explained to police what had happened. How they broke in and made me feed them. They were gluttons and stuffed themselves silly, making them cook up a stew with mushrooms they'd found.
Gus knew I knew the difference between a deadly nightshade and a Caesar's mushroom, but he didn't let on. To the big city police guys, I was just a simple yokel who got caught in a bad place and was saved by Divine Intervention. Mom taught me that at times, a girl had to do for herself.
Napoleon and Illya vanished not long after I made the call. They wished me well, told me that they would see me again and disappeared into the woods, arguing like an old married couple. The house seemed very empty with them gone, but I knew I'd done good and that was enough.
I was sitting on the front porch, just watching the skies and thinking. I loved my life here, its easy connection with Nature. That's when I spotted a car coming up the road and Sadie started cawing something fierce. Immediately, I checked where my rifle was and waited. It slowed, parked and two fellas climbed out. It took me a minute, but then I realized it was Napoleon and Illya.
I launched myself off the porch and into their waiting arms with a laugh. It was good to see them safe and whole. It was also a moment that could have changed my life.
You see, they brought me an offer to move to the city and work with them with their uncle, but I couldn't leave the mountains, not for any amount of love or money. I had the feeling they suspected that and so they did the next best thing, they brought the people to me.
They had people come and fix up my old house, put in electricity, running water and a real working bathroom. It was nice to not have the wind whistle in around the windows during the winter. And I never have seen a bill from it. They all go north In return, and their uncle took care of them. Once or twice a season, a few folks come my way. I teach all of them slow, the way my grandma taught me. Respect the woods and it will respect you. Treat others as you would have them treat you."
Some were better at others. Illya was a quick study, but poor Napoleon needed a lot of extra help. Or so he said. I knew better. It was fine with me, though for I had my life, my health, and my mountain and that was enough.