So long as human beings change and make history, so long as children are born and old people die, there will be tales to explain why sorrow darkens the day and stars fill the night. We invent stories about . . . life because they help us find our way, our place at the heart of the mystery. (Sam Keen and Anne Valley Fox)
You’ll maybe remember me from The Old Country Store and Post Office if you’re a regular visitor to these here pages. That there was a story I told you in seven episodes back along about a year ago. Since that time, I’ve been travelin’, pickin’ up some more stories here and there. To tell you the truth, that time in the silver mine with that there spook I told you about was whatcha might call a life-changin’ experience. It made me think there was a lotta things in this ole thing we call Life that we can’t explain, an’ that mebbe things is a lot bigger than I had ever calculated on. That’s what really made me start out on this here journey o’ mine.
And the more I travel around, the more convinced I am that’s true. I run into some real peculiar people with some real strange stories. But I’m a’gettin’ ahead o’ myself.
I started out with no real clear idea where I was a’goin’ or what I was gonna do. In the back of my mind, I thought mebbe I might travel south to Texas to see how Miz Suze was a’doin’ since I had a powerful admiration for that woman. An’ I found her — I think you already know somethin’ about her story from The Yella Rose Schoolhouse.
But there I go gettin’ ahead o’ myself again, and I wanted to tell you about how I come to have a travelin’ companion. When I started out, I was mostly keepin’ to tracks through the woods and fields, and away from towns and people. One night I was hunkered down at the edge o’ the woods, just a’layin’ in my bedroll admirin’ the stars, and feelin’ real small, like the night sky makes you feel, when all of a sudden I heard a sound that made my hair stand on end and the goosebumps crawl all over my flesh. It was a high keenin’ sound, kinda like a cross between a woman a’mournin’ and an animal in some kinda agony.
Well, that near froze my blood, but when I finally got up the nerve to set up and squint around, I seen a shadow at the edge of the woods, some kinda animal just a’settin’ there watchin’ me. In the starlight, it was hard to tell, but it looked like a dog or maybe a wolf or coyote, or a mighty big fox. An’ as I was a’wonderin’ what I should do, this here animal whined, kinda soft-like, and held out one o’ his paws. That was a little reassurin’, so I started sweet-talkin’ to him, like I did back on the farm when an animal was a’hurtin’, and he crept closer, not on his belly like he was afraid, but kinda proud-like. Ever once in awhile, he’d pause and hold out that paw, for all the world like he was a’sayin’ he was a friend an’ didn’t mean me no harm. But he didn’t stop, just kept a’comin’, which was a little disconcertin’ to say the least, ’til his head was pressed against my forehead. And boy howdy, let me tell you, I didn’t move.
An’ then — an’ I swear this by all them stars in the sky — I heard that there dog or whatever he was whisperin’ some words in my mind. I was so astonished-like that I forgot to be scared, (altho’ mebbe not, because I could feel my knees knockin’). An’ I think what he said was I am your Companion. I choose you. My name is Fred. Sleep now.
An’ I did. When I woke up, “Fred” was stretched out by my side, keepin’ me warm, watchin’ me. First thing I noticed was that Fred was a girl. Second thing I noticed was that Fred was the goldarn ugliest dog or wolf or coyote I’d ever seen. Mottled browny-black raggedy fur and gold eyes and a long pointy nose and big ole ears — like somebody had just thrown random dog parts together. Third thing I noticed was how much I already loved this dog.
We been travelin’ together ever since, me ‘n Fred. She don’t require no care, kinda takes care o’ herself, hunts at night, I reckon. An’ funny thing, she kinda leads the way. She’s never talked again, altho’ sometimes when I lean my forehead against her, it’s almost like I can hear — somethin’.
Now if I tell you the stories I’ve heard on my travels, you’ll hear some mighty strange things, but one o’ the strangest is Fred. Ever once in awhile, she kinda fades in and out and then disappears for awhile. And when she comes back from wherever she’s been, an’ she sets there and tilts that cockamamie head at me, I could swear she’s tryin’ to tell me somethin’. If you come to believe like I do that mebbe she’s magic, then mebbe she’s the one tellin’ these here stories. What I do know for sure is that she’s the most lovin’ friend I ever had.
Me and Fred, we’ll tell you some more stories soon.