CHAPTER FOUR

Thomas arose with his head pounding. This was nothing new for him. Every Saturday he would swear that he would not drink so much on Friday, and every Friday night it would be a repeat of the week before.

Born and raised in Alaska, he was a loner, The only reason he wound up in New York was because he was sent their by the railroad. He was to be there for two months. The training in marketing while there was supposed to earn him a big promotion when he returned. Not only did he not get the promotion, his job was lost altogether due to cut backs. That meant he also lost his housing. Because he did prove to be good at what he was being trained to do, the company did find him a firm that was willing to hire him. The Friday night binges was his way of dealing with his current situation.

He struggled to sit up. This was partly due to his pounding head, but also was complicated by being under several heavy wool blankets. His brain tried to sort things out. At first, he believed he was back in Alaska in his parents off grid cabin. There was a faint smell off wood smoke in the air. Slowly opening one eye, he instantly knew he was not in his studio in New York, and not back in his parents cabin. It was similar to the cabin he grew up in, but it was smaller. It had the familiar rough-cut logs, with three small windows and a front and back door. Looking around the room, he noticed pots and pans on the wall and a nice warm wood stove. There was no indoor plumbing that he could see.

Even with his head pounding, he still was trying to think of where he was, and how did he get there. Wrapping one of the blankets around him, he went over to one of the windows. It was snowing hard and looked like it had been doing so for some time. His head now reminded him that he should not be on his feet right now, so he made his way back to the bed and laid back down. After a bit his head began to feel better, and his thinking was clearer. He sat up and began to try to piece things together. Looking around, he noticed two heavy jackets and a wool cap, hanging on a hook near the wood stove, Under them was a pair of hiking boots. He put on one of the coats and huddled around the wood stove to warm up a bit. He knew it wood not be long before the supply of wood that was next to the stove wood run out.

“I have no idea how or why I an here, but I do know that if there is not a good supply of aged wood outside in some sort of shelter, I will not be around to figure any of this out!” Thomas continued to mumble to himself for a bit.

“Okay, before I venture out, let me see what else I might be needing besides a source of heat.”

The cabin only provided the basics for cooking as well as a coffee pot, a small jar of coffee, and three cans of beans. He went over to the window again and noticed that the snow was now gently falling.”

“I guess it is now or never.”

Thomas grabbed a pail to gather fresh clean snow, to melt for water, and headed towards the door. It took a good thirty minutes before he could force the door open enough to squeeze out side. He would up having to use a few of the tricks his father had thought him, but once outside, he cleared the door the best he could. Now exhausted, he filled his pail and sat it inside, then went back for an arm full of wood.

He was happy to see that there was indeed a good supply of aged wood stacked under a small, dilapidated shelter.

“I hope this supply will last until it warms up a bit…if it ever does warm up here.”

Thomas shook his head and went back into the cabin. Shaking off the cold, he rehung his jacket and placed the cap on top of the boots. He then threw in several logs and stoked the fire to where the cabin was now at a warm temperature. The snow had now completely stopped, so he took advantage of that to go back out to bring in a bigger supply of wood. When he was gathering this load, he unburied a few useful tools that was also in the shelter. There was an ax, a maul, and a snow shovel. He immediately made use of the snow shovel to clear a better path in front of both doors, As he was clearing the back door, he spotted a beautiful snow owl sitting on a post only a few yards away.

“Man aren’t you pretty!”

As he stood there and looked, he noticed that the owl had what appeared to be a piece of rolled up paper in it’s claws.

“That’s odd.” Thomas thought, then chuckled to himself.

“So, what has not been odd today?” He asked himself.

Thomas had seen many snow owls before and was well aware of their quick reflexes and their aggressive behavior if threatened. However, he had never seen one like this one. He had to see if he could get a closer look.

“My you are a handsome bird, I am not going to hurt you, I simply want to see what you have.”

Thomas had no idea if talking to the bird would help. He was always taught to leave the owls be. To his surprise, the owl did not seem to mind his approach. He got to where he was about twenty feet away, and then he stopped. All of a sudden, the owl took off. Thomas hit the ground, but when he looked up, the owl had dropped the rolled-up paper right in front of him. Picking it up, he stood and saw the owl now perched on a tree limb. Opening the paper, this is what he read.

“Good day Thomas. You seem to be adjusting to your new surroundings as well as we thought, We are sure you have many questions that will be answered in time. The owl is the means in which we will communicate with you when the need arises. For now, remember what you learned when you were young.”

Thomas read and reread the note several times. He scratched his head and looked up at the owl. It turned it’s head twice in typical owl fashion, then flew off. He put away the shovel and when he did, he noticed a box that was half buried in the snow. He removed enough snow to be able to open the lid. Inside was some potatoes and a few other root vegetables inside. He tugged the box out of the snow and headed back to his shelter.

Once back inside, Thomas fully explored the inside of the shelter and found a few other useful items, including a small lamp. Because another strong snow storm blew in, he spent time trying to figure things out. He managed to get things around to cook a soup using the ingredients from what he found in the shelter and in the box he found outside. After dinner, he sat on his bed to relax. All of a sudden there was this loud thump. A few seconds later there was another loud thump, followed by a loud scratching sound on the door.

“A bear!” Thomas said to himself louder than he meant to.

He had heard those sounds many times before as a boy. His father always had is gun nearby for this very reason. He had no weapon, and he knew that a bear wound not give up on the first attempt. Sure enough, their came another loud thump, and some scratching on the door.

“I have to do something,” he mumbled.

He looked around and grabbed a bunch of rags, and one of the long pieces of wood that he used to stir the fire. He wrapped the rags around the stick and lit them. He then grabbed the iron poker, quickly opened the door and yelled at the top of his lings.

“AHH, GET BEAR!!”

The bear startled by the sights and sounds, reared up and growled, as it took several sets backwards. Thomas was committed now, so he continued to yell and to wave the burning rags in the direction of the bear. After a few more growls the bear went back down on all fours and scampered off.

“That’s a relief,”

Thomas hurried back inside. He was so excited about trying to get rid of the bear, that he had not put on his coat, and was now freezing. He stayed by the fire for a bit to make sure the bear would not return. After about an hour, he climbed back in bed and buried under the covers.

The next morning, he went about trying to make his place more bear proof. As he worked on this, he began to ponder the question “why?”

“Why am I here? The only ounce of a clue was delivered by some stray snow owl!”

Thomas continued to mumble to himself as he went about his work. When he was done, he started to take a good look around. For the first time sense he arrived, it was not snowing, and the sky was clear. His head was a little clearer also.

From the front of his small cabin, he could see in the distance, a large mountain range. Exploring in that direction, he was in hopes of coming across some sort of pond, or stream, in order to hopefully find fish.

Thomas was beginning to remember his survival skills, he just wished he could remember how he got here.