Hedge of Thorns: Negotiation “Where did you come from, and why?” Instead of answering, Tumble leans forward, opens the zipper encircling the knee of his cargo pants, and exposes a joint swelling to the size of a small pumpkin. Panting, he sits upright again.“Carmel, California.” “That hasn’t drifted off into the ocean?” “Not yet. I’m
Hedge of Thorns: Maneuvering “If you’re in a mood to stay dry, and get what medical help I know how to give, get yourself through my front door.” I walk away, only glancing back when I hear scuffling behind me. Burdened under a pack and a cylindrical container, he’s crawling on his hands and one
Hedge of Thorns: Tumble The mixing bowl and flour canister are already on the table. Exposing the banked coals lets flame lick kindling, and soon there’s enough fire to make biscuits in the Dutch oven, the way mom did. Whatever killed Grandpa took her two weeks later, and it was my lot to step up
Hedge of Thorns: Delirium A distant raven caws, and I continue my climb past the low cairn marking Grandpa’s grave. In his last delirium, when Mom had to tie him to the bed, Grandpa’s words were not about thirst. “Put a hedge of thorns around it. Hedge of thorns….” “Why, Grandpa? Mom, he’s not making