Woodcutting

Woodcutting
The kyra tree fell to the ground with ease. Birds fluttered out of the branches, two johar sprinted from out of the ground, their teeth the colour of kyra roots. Jessiah placed his axe on the stump of a tree he had felled the day before, and walked to inspect his victim. He thought the contact with the tree to be smoother, cleaner than his efforts of the previous days, and running his finger across the smooth surface of the stump, declared himself to be a fine tree feller. The job had always been that of Wayer, his eldest son. In turn, Wayer had passed on his knowledge to all of his brothers about the tools needed to make incisions into certain trees - for the kyra a rebile blade was needed, for an inscom a slightly sharper blade with grittier teeth. Fayeh trees needed a two handed saw, which meant kneeling behind the trunk, straddling the tree like the way a jal hacks the head of its prey with a single swoosh of its front two paws. Jessiah had never felled a fayeh before, he had managed to get through life with other people doing it for him, but when Rico became a Hopino, it left him without any sons in the cottage for the first time. The trees did not need to be cut down, yet it was a task he felt he had to do.

He told Tang about his achievement, only to be greeted with laughter.
"You have felled your first inscom! he laughed. "Even little Ki can fell inscom trees! Amando could probably snap one with his own hands!
The mocking was meant to be light-hearted, but Jessiah took it as personal criticism and a dent on his character. So the forest became his new base, every night he would sleep there with his axes and saws beside him, ranging from the small axe he felled the inscom with, up to the saw bigger than himself, sharp enough to chop the meatiest trunk on the island. He would work his way up, he decided, tree by tree, axe by axe.

The next day he felled the zerys tree. This was a fine achievement, he knew, as he remembered the pride Wayer had the first time he had done it himself. Now Jessiah had done it too; again he admired the smoothness of the stump, the pattern the blade of the axe made against the bark of the zerys. It had not been without pain, blood oozed from the cuts on his fingers and knuckles, and soon the zerys stump was smeared with the red that pumped from Jessiah's heart. Smiling to himself, he stooped down and wrote his name with his fingertip. Looking at his blood smeared signature, he thought it one of his finest achievements. Despite being exhausted, he took the trunk in both hands and dragged it all the way through the forest. He dragged it past his own cottage, across the bridge over the Gtani river, through the market and to the home of Tang and Elishe. People greeted him on the way, "Jessiah! they shouted towards him, surprised to see him out of his cottage, so much time had he spent devoted to his heriezah. "Jessiah! they called him with a wave. "Come and have a meal at our cottage. Would you like something to drink? But the best he could offer them was the recognition of his own name, or an apology if he seemed to be rude. No offence was taken, it was clear he was on a mission, a man carrying a dead tree in his bleeding hands through a market place could be nothing other than a man on a mission. Jessiah made a mental note of the discovery he had made on how to avoid conversations. Drag trees.

He did his customary five knocks on Tang's cottage door, each one louder than the last. Inside, both Elishe, baking in the kitchen, and Tang, preparing the week's sermon in his office , immediately recognised who their visitor was and appeared at their front door at the same time. They opened it together; the sight of Jessiah, bent double with a tree on their doorstep, left them open-mouthed.
"Jessiah? Elishe began, and the great man looked at her as though he sensed a question was impending.
"Why the tree? Tang asked, in case the question was not an obvious one.
"I felled it myself. Jessiah announced, out of breath.
"And dragged it here yourself too?
Jessiah nodded, satisfied.

The zerys stayed on the doorstep while Jessiah was drawn towards a cot, the centrepiece of the room. He looked inside it and saw Aqa, smiling and gurgling. Elishe shielded the baby from the old man, ordering him to clean the blood and dirt from his hands and clothes before he went anywhere near any member of her family. He walked into the back garden, where he pulled up the bucket of the well, his back feeling the strain of every pull. When it reached the surface, he cupped his hands in the lukewarm water, and flinched as the ripples stung his cuts. He forced himself to fight through the pain barrier, and splashed water over his arms, his legs and face, and gave himself a full body wash before he went back inside. Despite the stinging and the tenderness, he felt better for it. Cacci and Metty ran over to him from the other side of the garden.
"What are you doing here? he asked them.
"Mummy has a friend at the cottage. they explained. "We are staying with Uncle Tang and Aunt Elishe. What happened to your hands?
"I have been working. he told them, and they followed him back into the cottage.
"Why did you bring a tree with you? Elishe asked again as she inspected his hands. Cacci and Metty took seats on the floor. Tang brought through two glasses of wine. "Not because of what Tang said? she asked, half mocking, as she rubbed his fingers with warm, soapy water.
"Because of what Tang said. Jessiah admitted. Elishe rolled her eyes with familiar resignation. "He told me that it was easy, that anyone could fell an inscom. A zerys, he told me, was much harder. I wanted to show him I could do it.
Tang passed over one of the glasses of wine.
"It was never meant in anything other than jest. Tang explained. No-one could criticise a single thing about you, Jessiah. Least of all for something as petty as felling trees.
Elishe let go of his left hand, allowing him to take the glass of wine, which he brought to his lips. She swapped it for his right hand, and rubbed the contours of the skin.
"My dad can chop trees easily. Cacci said proudly. Jessiah withdrew his hand from Elishe's, thanked Tang for the wine, and they watched as he dragged the tree back to the forest, pretending not to hear their begs for him to return. Tang poured the two glasses of wine down over the flowerbeds.

***
It was Gradno who found him. Jessiah had a cut on his forehead in the shape of a frown, and was lying on the ground at a right angle to a fallen drauren. Unable to bring him back to consciousness, Gradno flung the great man over his shoulders . Deciding his own cottage was closer than Jessiah's, he headed north out of the woods and to the cottage he now associated with nothing more than memories of Sarilla. Before he had even got close to the outskirts of the woods, a passer-by with tobben either side of him saw the doctor struggling under the weight of Jessiah's bundle, and he barked an instruction to the tobben, who turned on their heels and sprinted back in the direction from which they came. Free of his animals, he motioned towards Gradno to share out the weight between the two of them.
"I am Loore. he said. The doctor nodded.
"Gradno. he said.
"You are married to Sarilla. Loore said.
"You know her? Gradno asked, with suspicion.
"I think every man in Gtani knows of her. he replied. "She is the most beautiful girl on the island.
"She would be the most beautiful girl on any island. Gradno declared proudly.

They struggled through the rest of the woods in silence, both of them growing weary, their arms almost buckling under the strain.
"This is it. Gradno announced, and they lay him on the stretch of grass in front of the cottage. Loore tended to him, making him comfortable while Gradno ran inside the cottage. He reappeared moments later with his medical bag, from which he took a pipette and eased a droplet of liquid into the corner of each of Jessiah's bloodshot pupils, holding the eyelids open with his fingertips. When he brought his fingers away, the eyelids shut tight.
"He is going to get better, isn't he? Loore asked. Gradno nodded.
"It is Jessiah. he answered. And with the sound of his own name, Jessiah's eyes opened, and he bolted upright, as though having just had an unpleasant dream.
"I chopped down a drauren. he declared, before stumbling to his feet.
"Sit! Gradno ordered, using a doctor's voice rather than that of Sarilla's husband. "You have had a nasty cut. You must rest. Jessiah sat on the patch of grass that Gradno pointed at. He looked up at the doctor.
"What happened?
Gradno shrugged. "I found you lying on your back in the forest, as though you had just been hunted. And now you are at my cottage. Would you like soup? he asked. When Jessiah nodded, he turned behind him to heat tescel chunks in a pan of boiling water. Loore put his hands behind his back and returned to his own cottage.

Jessiah found the juice of the soup too bitter, the chunks too chewy. He ate three spoonfuls, the taste deteriorating each time the liquid touched the buds on his tongue. Resting his spoon beside his bowl, he stretched with a yawn and feigned tiredness.
"I appreciate what you have done for me, Gradno. But I now feel ready to return home.
The doctor blurted out a "no, having not even had the chance to touch the soup himself. "I would worry about you being in the cottage by yourself. he explained. "The wound is deep, your voice is still slightly slurred, your eyes still glazed. I would suggest you stay here with me.
The idea did not appeal to him, but he felt that the offer had to be made.
"I think that what I need is not soup. Jessiah said, laying his spoon by his bowl. "It is a drink. I think I know you well enough, Gradno, to know that you will have a bottle of wine inside that you keep somewhere special. A bottle too good to be lined up on the shelf with the other wines, a bottle hidden from everyday view. Am I right?
"Yes. Gradno admitted, knowing his answers should always please Jessiah.
"And is there an occasion you have in mind for this bottle?
"The birth of my child. he replied, with pain in his voice.
"As I thought. What I propose, Gradno, is that I will arrange with Tang to have you presented with one of his finest wines which he will handpick himself. And in turn, the wine which you are saving, we will drink now.

Gradno's heart popped at the opening of the bottle. After the first glass, Jessiah's words were no longer groggy, he no longer slouched back in his chair. He was Jessiah again.
"Where did you store it? he asked, filling the two glasses up with the dark red liquid.
"The bedroom. Gradno replied, picturing the set of drawers he built himself when he first arrived In Gtani. He pictured the bottle, nestled in the drawer, protected by Sarilla's scarves and pyjamas. As he drank he wondered if the scent of her fragrance on the bottle contributed to the aroma of the wine.

The old man picked the bottle up to inspect the colouring of the label. Content that it was one of Tang's, he placed it back on the table and raised his glass.
"To the end of woodcutting. Gradno offered. Jessiah wagged his finger, forbidding the toast.
"To special wines. he said, and the two glasses crashed against each other, like an axe hitting a zerys.
"You were right to save this wine for a special time. Jessiah told the doctor.
"This occasin is special enough for me. Gradno told him, blanking out the image he had carried for so long of the bottle in one hand, the baby in the other, with Sarilla lying on their bed.
"You must be looking forward to her returning? Jessiah said, sensing his companion's thoughts.
"I never lived in a cottage so empty. he said. "Even in Antigua after the death of my father I never felt so low. Jessiah nodded immediately.
"WIthout Rico and Wirar I do not know what to do with my time. Jessiah took a big sip of his wine. "I worry about Rico out in Lelle. He is too far away. Since his mother died he has behaved strangely. He has been a different person. To be honest, Gradno, I regret letting him go.
"I wish I had forced Sarilla to stay. But she has talked of Lelle so often, and never dreamt that she would have the chance to go there.
"You should have made her stay. Jessiah told him gravely. "I am forced to be without the woman I doted on. I wish I had spent more time with Wirar. Make sure that when Sarilla returns you do not let her go again.
"I beg for her return constantly. I think of her every day.
"You will think of Sarilla every day until you die. No matter what happens between you and Sarilla in the future, no matter how high the highs are, how low the lows, you will think of her every day until you die. A girl like Sarilla¦ it would be impossible not to. Girls like her are rare.
Gradno nodded, taking in the words.
"I will go home. Jessiah announced abruptly, the bottle of wine only three quarters empty.
"Again I must insist you sleep here, Jessiah. You have had a nasty cut.
"I will go to my cottage. Jessiah said sternly, his voice raised at being disagreed with. "But do not fear. I have no intention of picking up another axe. My wood chopping days are over. But I would like my own bed.
Gradno stood up, raising his voice, his glass still in his hand.
"But to let you be alone in that great cottage would be wrong of me. It is fraught with danger.
"Gradno. Jessiah said, this time without the patience and kindness he had previously granted him. "You have asked twice. I have refused twice. Let the charade go on no longer.
Gradno sat down. He was no longer the doctor. Once again, he was the stranger who had married Sarilla. He stayed at his place at the table while Jessiah got up from his chair, left the cottage and began his long walk home. Gradno watched him, unsure whether the stumbling and meandering was due to the wine or the cut.