No Turkey?!

It seemed like we’d talked half the night, but in reality we’d probably gone to sleep before midnight. It wasn’t very often Albert and I got together, but at twelve, we hadn’t done anything too awful bad. My parents had to be away, so my older sister got dropped at one house, and I got to stay with my best friend! We did our best to annoy his sisters without drawing adult acrimony. We ended up on the second floor of the old wooden house set in the middle of potato fields. The fields were picked clean and dusted with snow. None was forecast, but the wind howled against the sides of the house, set strategically forty-five degrees from the prevailing winds. It was a typically prepared Maine house, well insulated, well placed, and well stocked. What a place for a holiday!

“Hey! Wake up!” I slapped the other sleeping bag. I was bummed it hadn’t snowed.

There would be no snowmobiling that weekend. Unusual for northern Maine, by that time, there was generally a pack. But after looking out, I looked back. There was no one in the sleeping bag. It looked like he went to breakfast without me! I added some real clothes to the long underwear already keeping me almost warm. He’d left me behind for some reason, but the smell whifting softly into the room got my attention, too. The kitchen was alive with action even that early. Coffee was doled out to the adults, who conferred about this and that, and several would all end up in the kitchen adding their own spices.

“Were you boys up all night?” One aunt, I think, asked me. “Did you leave Albert behind?”
“What?” I kind of shook my head, “No, he’s down here somewhere. Did someone make flapjacks?”
“Help yourself. Bacon, too. But then get out. There’s some cookin’ to be done!”

I helped myself. While I was eating, several people asked me why I was alone. It slowly became apparent that Albert wasn't in the house. They asked me lots of questions, but I had no answers. The house was filled with the aromas of cooking meat, baking pies, side dishes and all that makes the end of November great. It was warm and wonderful inside, but the youngest of the family was absent. The outside was very cold and forbidding, but he wasn’t a fool. He had warm clothes, and they weren’t quite sure if he had a sled or not. There were sixteen at the house, so it took time to sort out.

“Where is Albert?!” They asked me. As if I knew.
“He was gone when I got up!” I defended myself.
“He said nothing?”
“No!” I shrugged.

They started looking. Potato fields are weird, you almost have to pick them to understand,. You can see across them, but they have divots and channels and little wooded areas. Not to mention the little woody strips near rivers and streams. So they started criss-crossing this and that, but some stayed behind to stir pots! I found that funny.

Why isn’t everyone out there? Then, one older lady, maybe someone’s granny, but not mine, went to work on a bird. She buttered it and spiced it, and lovingly caressed it. I made that last part up. But the whole thing set me to thinking. What the heck was Albert talking about before bed? Then I had it.

I took off down the back of the property, but I had to get through the neighbors broken fence, then off to the left. Probably pulp mill land. And then the stream... no one would fish it, but it was way upstream of the bad stuff. I already knew.

“Hey, Turkey!” I waited.
“What?” Came a reply.

He had a nice spot on the bank, between some ice.

“Don’t you hear people lookin’ for you?
“Yeah, ain’t caught my limit.” He showed me a full stringer of trout.
“I think you have enough for everyone.”
“Yeah?”
“C’mon, let’s head back.”

What an odd holiday. The bird stayed on the rack until later, and we had a fine trout dish as our main course. Cooked by one of our esteemed whatever they were in the kitchen. They even made fun trimmings.

“Hey, Turkey, “ I said very quietly, “This it? Fish and pie?”
“Oh, shut up.”
“Can’t have Thanksgiving without Turkey!”

"Happy Thanksgiving!" They all yelled!


And yes, I grew up with a best friend with that nickname, and can prove it!

(WC - 747)