Ode to Sawyer

The faint pitter patter of footsteps echo in a deserted alley complimented by sounds of clanging tin and ruffling plastic bags. A small boyish figure, draped in rags, stood not 4 feet tall. This frail figure rummaged through any container or building that might produce something he could eat. Trifling through cupboards, trash bins and the like. By our standards he may have been 7 or 8 by this time.

As he was wandering around this area of town he noticed a collapsed building which wasn’t out of the ordinary, what was out of the ordinary was something glistening back at him out of the rubble. As he approached he noticed a fine, chain draping out of a partially decomposed hand protruding from under the collapsed building. Not that he knew what constituted decomposition or what to call it. What he did know was the mechanics of death and that looting things from the dead was part of surviving. He pried the hand open and found a shiny silver heart shaped locket. It was cool and smooth to the touch, comforting against the skin of his hands. It was open and in it were small colorless pictures of a straight faced man on one side and a gentle faced woman on the other. This object made him feel very strange. He forgot he hadn’t eaten today and the pain in his gut all but disappeared. He put the smooth cool object in the only pocket he had without a hole in it and moved on. It didn’t take long to remember the sharp pain in his belly, and it was getting dark. In this place it was very cold when it was dark. He did not like the dark at all. He was always searching for a good place to sleep but was never able to find anywhere to stay warm. So sometimes he settled for hiding. So he found a large metal dumpster to hide in for the night. He had wandered much farther than usual and was very tired. He did his best to get comfortable and closed his eyes.

Suddenly, he was awoken by loud noises coming from outside. Rummaging, grunting, and the patter of heavy footsteps also other footsteps more frequent but not as heavy. The familiar clang of glass and tin colliding enveloped in thin plastic wrappings. He could only hope they didn’t find him. The footsteps got closer, they stopped for a moment and then. *BARK* *BARK* “What is it boy?” He knew for sure they would find him now. He grabbed the sharpest thing he could find. Which was a black plastic knife. The doors of the dumpster opened with a blinding light keeping him from seeing the assailant. He brandished his blade toward the stranger, Slicing the air with violent intent. “Are you alone out here?” The deep, gruff voice asked him. There was no answer, “Are you hungry kid?”He continued. The man seemed to know better than to reach in after him brandishing such a dangerous object with abandon. Less for his own safety than for the child’s. He waited a moment and when he saw that there was no answer he closed the lid to the dumpster and started rummaging again. After some time had passed the boy began to hear a familiar crackling noise. Could it be? It must be. Did he make fire? It was very tempting to risk human contact for warmth but not quite. He did not know anything about this man. Then he caught a whiff of something roasting over the fire. That was all he needed. He peaked out from the dumpster and caught a glimpse of meat. It looked and smelled delicious like it could keep him going for days. “Hungry now, huh?” The man asked, seeing the tiny figure peering under the lid of a giant faded dumpster. The kid nodded at him, lifting the lid and attempting to climb out of his safe space.

Joining him at the fire, the child noticed the long grey beard this man had and a green beanie on his head covering grey hair too, and a thick tan jacket with fur inside the sleeves and collar. He remembered how cold he was, he began rubbing his arms and shivering, staring at the meat. He also noticed a dog laying next to the old man. It approached the boy. Nosing him and allowing himself to be pet. The boy noticed the dog was warm and was dismayed when he returned to his owner. “That's Bud, me and him have been together a long time. Haven’t we, Bud?” The Old man noticed the child wearing rags and rubbing his arms to stay warm and grabbed a couple oversized shirts from his pack and said. “Put those on.” throwing them in his direction. “Do you have anyone?” He asked. The child just stared at him and didn’t offer a reply. “Surviving on your own and can’t even dress for the weather?” He carried on. “Respect the cold son, The Cold can kill.” “cccold ccan kkkill.” The boy replied, stuttering his statement back at him. “Hmmph,” the old man grunted. “So you can talk.” He said in his aged, baritone voice.

The old man checked the meat and it was ready. He shared it with the boy and he took it like he had never eaten anything before in his life. “You like that?” The old man asked. The boy nodded vigorously. “How about I show you how to get more?” The boy’s eyes got wide as if he understood perfectly what he was saying. He nodded again. “Ok, then stick with us kid and we will show you what we know.” “You have a name?” The old man wondered. The boy shrugged. It wasn’t that he didn’t have a name, it was just he didn’t remember needing one. He wasn’t sure he remembered the last human face he had seen. O wait, his hand flinched toward his pocket but not enough to be suspicious. He did remember, not one but two of the last human faces he had seen just pictures though. “Well” He took a deep breath. “I think you look like a Sawyer so that's what I’ll call you. What do you think, Bud? Doesn’t he look like a Sawyer?” He ended his statement addressing the dog again. “You can call me Bill.” With that out of the way and a pleasantly full belly, Sawyer and Bill went to sleep.

The next morning Bill woke up early to clean up camp and saw the kid, now Sawyer, began helping him right away. “I guess it didn’t take long for the kid to warm up after all.” Thought Bill. Then Bill intended to keep good on his promise to show Sawyer how to hunt properly and efficiently for small game. They went out to woods to check the traps Bill had set up to catch rabbits or raccoons or other types of animals. They were nothing fancy, but they could be effective. Not today though, they were empty. “When it comes to food, you never put all your eggs in one basket.” Bill offered some advice. Sawyer listened intently, but failed to understand the reference. He had probably never had eggs before. He looked confused. *sigh* “I will show you.” Bill reached into his pack and pulled out a neatly folded net with a rope protruding from either side and cleared some brush with a machete and tied one rope to a branch and threw the other over an opposite branch into a nearby brush then he gave Bud a command. “Round’em up.” As he swirled his finger in the air. He pulled Sawyer into the brush with him and signaled to be quiet. Then they watched as Bud began sniffing and searching the area and ruffling through the bushes. Pretty soon, he found something and ran them toward the net Bill had set up. As soon as they crossed the net Bill yanked the net and caught one of them. A rabbit this time. Bill taught Sawyer how to catch and clean and prepare the rabbit and anything else they caught for eating.

Some time had passed and Sawyer, now getting older, was still learning from Bill as intently as if they had just met. Hanging on every word he said, or every word he could understand. Bill taught Sawyer how to shoot because they had a small caliber firearm which Bill always said was one of their most valuable possessions and should be taken care of. Bill just so happened to be getting older now too and his eyesight began to fade and seeing Sawyer had a natural eye for shooting and hunting he mostly entrusted the firearm to Sawyer. Together they hunted and foraged and survived just the 3 of them. By this time, it had started to get cold and Bill knew that winter was coming and so they found something they could insulate and keep the snow out of. He found a box car on a train and cleaned it out and covered the openings. That turned out to be one of the best shelters they had found to date. So much so that they decided to spend the winter there.

One night it was especially cold and Bill was awoken by all kinds of noises outside the train. Lights, and big trucks started pulling in from everywhere. Bill knew this wasn’t good. He had heard of these types of looters. They weren’t scavenging for food or survival gear, they were armed to the teeth and looking for people, alive if possible. “Slavers.” Bill gasped quietly. He woke Sawyer immediately. Gave him the gun and precise instructions to take Bud and run into the woods where the trucks can’t follow. He knew that he had to hold them off. The boxcar door began to rattle. It was too late. Sawyer grabbed Bud by the collar and tried to jump through an opening in the floor to sneak out, but Bud wouldn’t come, Sawyer pleaded with Bud. “Come Bud!” “Come!” Pulling him to no avail. Bud wasn’t going to leave Bill, and as soon as the door was forced open Bud began barking and ran at one of the attackers. Bill was shouting for bud to come back and attempted to stop him. The Slavers were shouting and started shooting.

Sawyer had no choice, as soon as the shooting started Bill yelled at him. “Go now!” He ran as fast as he could through the woods. Shivering because of the intensity of what was happening and because it was like a blizzard. He couldn’t see anything. After a while, running became wading as the snow got deeper. “Cccold ccan kkkill, cccold ccan kkkill.” His teeth chattered as his tears froze on his cheeks. He remembered his smaller self rummaging through trash cans and struggling to escape the elements. Before Bill and Bud befriended him. That small figure who pried open a cold dead hand to reveal a small comfort. “The locket!” He thought. He checked his pockets and sure enough it was still there. He grasped it in his hands and found a flat spot on the ground, leaned against a tree and opened it, one last time. Grasping it tight in his hands he closed his eyes.

When it was light out a large cargo truck noticed a body laying by the road. The driver stopped to inspect it and check for anything useful. A little girl was sitting comfortably in the back of the truck with other children, probably fleeing the slavers. After the adults were done looting the corpse. She noticed a pretty silver chain draping from the frozen cadavers hands. She went to inspect it and was able to pull it free. A beautiful heart shaped locket smooth and pleasant to the touch.