The Center of the World - 3. Goose and Garlic

Pireno devoted most of the afternoon to washing clothes and the rags that passed for Saghir’s blankets. Anavuizhur, a tall, silent giant with red hair much like Saghir’s, laid a freshly-killed goose by the fire and helped Saghir out to relieve himself. Seeing how heavily Saghir leaned on the bigger giant, Pireno knew he would not be able to do the same for him.

While Anavuizhur attended to Saghir, Pireno took his knife and an improvised digging stick and went out foraging. He was lucky enough to find nuts, wild garlic and onion, a willow from which he cut a few twigs, some tanas bulbs, and, miraculously, a few poppy pods that were not yet completely dry. He had no idea if the poppies were a variety that would be good for pain, but he took them anyway.

Yalitikar and Anavuizhur brought other supplies for Saghir: grain from the village’s harvest, some dried meat, wine, a little more whiskey, a water-skin, clothing, rope, a pack with leather straps, a spear, a bow and arrows. Most of Saghir’s personal possessions had been lost during the flight from the village.

As Pireno stowed his foraged goods and laid out his wash to dry, Yalitikar crouched by him. “Giant go tomorrow. Sun up.”

“We will stay here until Saghir is fit to travel. I don’t know how long it will take.”

“Bilinu,” the giant said. “You walk far for find Saghir. You not hafta. You stay Saghir. You not hafta. Other giant say you bad balan. I think you good. I think you love he. If world bad for I as world bad for Saghir, but if slave by I got, and he this good as you, I think, world good place, I happy. You stay with Saghir. All time. Hafta.”

From the tent, Saghir yelled something to Yalitikar. Pireno caught the phrase “my slave” but not much more.

Yalitikar laughed and yelled back something that Pireno was fairly certain would translate to “Oh, yeah? What are you going to do about it, Shorty?”

Saghir replied with words Pireno had never heard before.

Yalitikar said to Pireno, “I want world good for you and Saghir,” and left with Anavuizhur.

“Bilinu!” Saghir called.

“Yes, Master?” Pireno entered the tent.

“Yalitikar say word much. Say-word, say-word, say-word, all time.”

“He was wishing us well.”

“He want fuck you.”

“Master, not this again.”

Saghir smiled his teasing half-smile. “Yalitikar good giant, he not do bad thing, he not fuck slave by other giant, not in all time. But -- he want.”

************

Pireno scraped some of the inner bark from the willow branches and boiled it with the poppy pods, and managed to get Saghir to sip a little of the bitter liquid. Then he skinned the goose, cut up the breast meat, and boiled it with the tanas bulbs and wild onion. Saghir ate most of it. For a giant it was a very small meal.

Saghir’s head felt hotter as night fell. He dozed fitfully. Pireno slept with his back to Saghir’s back.

In the morning the giants packed and left without a word. Pireno watched them go, then turned to the west, where a bank of dark clouds was growing. He checked the dead limb that held his cooking pot over the fire, and the two forked branches that held it up. They all seemed secure. He cut evergreen branches and propped them up against the horizontal limb to protect the fire.

Saghir seemed much worse. He was never really fully awake nor fully asleep. When Pireno told him he was going to change his bandages, he didn’t respond. He certainly would not have been able to continue traveling with the giants.

The wound didn’t seem better. Pireno did his best to clean, flush and pack it, using both whiskey and crushed wild garlic. He roasted the rest of the goose. He brought the supplies inside the tent, and a few embers from the fire in case it went out.

At noon the rain began, and wind. It was cold and the tent was drafty. Pireno improvised coverings for Saghir as best he could. Saghir’s groans mingled with the sighing of the wind until Pireno wasn’t sure which he was hearing. During the night Pireno discovered a rivulet of water flowing into the tent. He went out and tried to dig a trench around the tent, but he was working blind.

In the morning Saghir was quieter. Pireno made willow-bark tea and brought it to him, and he drank a little, then slept.

When he woke, the rain had stopped. Pireno felt his head; it wasn’t hot. “Bilinu,” Saghir whispered.

“Yes, Master?”

Saghir panted for a few moments. “I sleep-think-see. I in water, cold, I see ground, I see you on ground with Yalitikar. He fuck you.”

“Master, this is getting a little obsessive.”

“Hear I, hear I. He fuck you, you see I, you say, ‘Why you not fuck I?’ I say, ‘I in water, I cold, I die, I not can fuck you. You hafta wash I.’”

“You do tend to think that washing will solve everything.”

“Ya, wash make all thing more good. You wash I now. Not in tent. Out.”

“Let me heat some water and we’ll see if we can get you outside.”

The evergreen branches had kept the fire from going completely out. While Pireno heated water, he scoured the dead campfires for ashes. They were soaked with rain, which suited his purposes just right. He returned with a potful of wet ash to find that Saghir had crawled out of the tent. He could not stand, so Pireno helped him drag himself. Together they found a fallen log close to the tent where Saghir could sit while Pireno bathed him.

The ash-paste left a grayish cast on Saghir’s skin but returned him almost to his normal smell.

Saghir pointed to his groin. “Wash here again.” Pireno did.

“Again.” Pireno did.

“Thing I not say on sleep-think-see. I say now. I see Yalitikar fuck you, it make I want fuck you.”

“I’m starting to wonder if you really did sleep-think-see this dream.”

“Ya, I see. And I think-see now. And it make I want fuck you now.”

“I’ve been meaning to tell you. As part of getting you well again, getting your blood moving is very important, and one good way to make that happen is fucking.”

“Say word straight?”

“Absolutely straight.”

Saghir shrugged. “You know more as I. You doctor.”

Pireno rinsed Saghir one last time. “I bet I can get to the tent before you do.”

************

They stayed for seven days. Pireno changed Saghir’s bandages twice a day. Saghir could stand for only a few moments at first, then could limp, leaning on a large dead branch, then walked better and better. His wound started to close and Pireno packed less and less cloth into it.

Pireno netted fish, improvised a bola from a half-dozen rocks and string to catch waterfowl, foraged, washed clothes, cooked, and waited on Saghir.

And they fucked a lot. It seemed to have a therapeutic effect.

Saghir cut and trimmed a walking staff for himself. On the sixth day Pireno judged his wound to have healed enough for Saghir to bathe in the river. This invigorated Saghir and increased his appetite. He began to help Pireno hunt and fish.

On the seventh day Saghir dismantled the tent and folded it into his pack, along with their other gear. Pireno carried what he could. Saghir strapped the bow, arrows and spear to his back. He put on boots, which giants wear only in winter, going barefoot in summer. He and Pireno ate a meal of duck, nuts, wild greens and bulbs, doused the fire, and prepared to set out.

“Bilinu?”

“Yes, Master.”

“Zhiskundak.”

“Why are you thanking me?”

“For make I live. Now, ready, Bilinu?”

“Ready, Master.”

“Easy time done finish,” Saghir said. “From now, from here, not easy.”