Re: Deeper Than a Mud Puddle pt. 6

Desperation builds in the stranger's voice as he begins to tell me about the lifestyle his family would have as part of the work camp's population. He describes the open barracks-style housing in the camp shared by several hundred families, the loss of personal freedom and dignity his family would endure, and the difficulty in transferring out of the camp population once in it. After receiving the warning, he decides to take a couple of days off to look for another job.

He tells me that screening at the security gate is usually a technicality for staff members, but when he tries to leave the next day he is detained. Suddenly, the camp seems very interested in where he is going and when he will be coming back. He quickly makes up a story about visiting relatives for a few days and is finally allowed to leave. As he drives away from the camp he knows he and his family will not be returning.

At this point the man is near hyperventilation. He doesn't think the work camp will bother to search for him but he has traded their car for the motorcycle and all the gas they can carry just in case. He has been on the road for a week looking for work. He returned to this area because he had friends in the next town but they have since moved. In an exasperated finish to his tale and with a fair amount of huffing and puffing, the gentleman, in a near shout, asks "How will I feed my family?!"

The younger mare does not appreciate the excitement and steps back, bobbing her head.

I turn to look at Naka who is not fazed by the behavior. She has been in the midst of many a person exclaiming that the sky is falling with all the associated hand waving and frantic body language. Naka is a wise old girl, always steady. She never runs back to the barn, even after a long day out in the field.

She looks at the man for a few seconds while chewing at her bit, and then glances over to the motorcycle where the woman still sits with the child in her lap. I see here ears kick forward as the child says something to her mother that is inaudible from where I stand. Her ears then tip slightly to the side and she gives a deep exhale. She gets a soft, almost mystical look in her eye and turns back to me. This is my cue.

I turn back toward the gentleman and ask, "Sir, what do you know about canning green beans?" Tweet