A short while later, Yojoti had one tote about half full of what I assumed would be useful out in the field. He carried it and the other, empty tote out into the sunshine and set them on the ground next to his bucket seat. I followed suit to join him on mine.

The first thing Yojoti pulled out was a pair of boots I had briefly glimpsed beneath the pack, but hadn’t had time to really think about. Yojoti caught my attention and mimed writing on his hand, then pointed inside the boots. That must have been where he found the card. She seems to have thought of most everything. Too bad the rest of any kind of camping or cold weather gear was stored in the garage! It makes sense for her to have put this surprise in the shed, away from all that.

I nodded my understanding to Yojoti and said “Thank you.” We then spent about thirty minutes going through the contents of the tote. For about half of the items, he could just hold it up and tell me his word for it, which I would repeat. This category included wood, tarp, stake, blanket, and wire. After identifying each item, he placed it in the other tote.

For the other half, he held it out to me and raised an eyebrow. I could demonstrate the use of a screw and screwdriver, pruning shears, pad locks, and some other tools. He even held up the sprinkler, and I was able to use the word “water” and mime to communicate how it sprayed. Several items in this category didn’t have words in Yojoti’s language. For the rest of the tote’s contents, I was at a loss for how to explain.

I can barely understand pneumatic tools myself! No way I could communicate how they work to Yojoti. And even if I could, there’s no way we could use them out here. It’s just as well, we can’t carry all of this anyway.

Eventually we gave up on the endeavor, and set to packing the things that would actually be useful into my pack. I remembered from Boy Scouts to pack heavy, less-used items against my back, softer things at the bottom, and the most-used things on the top and outside.

The pack turned out not to be as full as it could be, since I didn’t have any clothing besides what I was wearing. I would have to take care of that once we reached a town. Speaking of town…

I caught Yojoti’s attention and bent down to draw a row of houses in the dirt.

“House, house, house, house?” I inquired.

It took him a minute, but the drawing seemed to do the trick, and he pointed at me and responded with the word for “town,” pointing toward the forest to the North, as well as the Mountains to the West.

I followed up with “Town long walk?”

Yojoti shrugged and said “Three ______,” Introducing a new word.

I repeated it with a questioning tone, so Yojoti held up a hand and said “morning”, then looped the other hand around to it and said “morning” again, followed by the new word.

“Ah! Three ‘days’ walk town?” I asked.

Yojoti nodded, but then said “Wait,” followed by a sentence where I recognized “walk,” “two,” and “meat”, accompanied by miming use of a bow.

Uh, that was a lot, my guy. Let’s see…

Before I could respond, Yojoti snapped his fingers and said “Ah,” then started demonstrating several new words. I learned “hunt,” “rabbit,” “skin,” and a few other words confirming my initial assessment that Yojoti was a hunter out here. It seemed that he was only at the beginning of his current hunting trip, so he wouldn’t be able to lead me directly to the town; he needed to bring furs with him.

I grabbed Yojoti’s attention and repeated my approximation of one of the words I hadn’t known from his sentence, the one following “two”. He nodded and said “[new word], twenty-eight days”.

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Oh! So that word is about the same as “month”.

I nodded my understanding and wondered whether I could possibly make it there myself without getting lost. Probably not. It’s hard to miss the forest, but unless the town is on this side of the forest rather than inside or on the other side, I’d never make it out of there. And even if I did make it there, I don’t speak the language. And something tells me most people won’t be as kind as Yojoti, to work with me and teach me. I wonder if it would be too much to ask to travel and hunt with him?

As I opened my mouth to voice the question, Yojoti precluded it by saying “watch”.

Yojoti pointed to each of us, then brought his hands together in a deliberate fashion until they touched. Once they made contact, he pressed them together and spoke a new word.

Is that maybe “together”? Out loud, I asked “Yojoti, Trevor, hunt ‘together’?”.

Yojoti clapped his hands and smiled at me, saying “Yes, yes!” My eyes started to tear up as I repeated his enthusiastic response, followed by “Thank you!”

He laughed and clapped me on the shoulder again, gave a firm squeeze and a shake, then let go to point away from me and say “__ dig __ ____ potatoes. ____ ____ evening meal. ____ sleep long, hunt __ ___ morning”.

Though I didn’t know every word he used, I nodded my assent and went in search of the yellow flowers out among the grass while Yojoti took off toward the shed.

-

The potatoes grew well among the grass, but they were sparsely distributed, so it took about half an hour to locate and dig up ten plants. I figured it wouldn’t hurt to eat some extra before we took off, and maybe have a few to pack with us. Though considering they were everywhere out here, it may not have been necessary.

Meanwhile, Yojoti had cleared the floor of the shed of the tools and detritus that I had never bothered to pick up back home, and unrolled both of our sleeping bags inside.

Would you look at that! I can’t remember the last time I saw the entire floor in here. It’ll be good to sleep inside a real shelter. Though I can’t imagine it’ll be much more comfortable, even if I add the yoga mat underneath me. At least being off the ground will keep us warmer. I miss my memory foam mattress already!

I set to rinsing and cutting the potatoes, retrieving one of the bucket’s lids from the shed to use as a platter, while Yojoti set the water to boil using both of our pots, and cut some jerky into each. The amiable silence of meal preparation was broken only by cricket chirps, bird calls, and the crackle of the fire.

With two pots, cooking took half the time, and soon we were blowing on stew while watching the sun sink behind the shed.

It’ll be an early night, and probably an early start. I wonder what and how Yojoti hunts out here? I’m guessing mostly small game like rabbits or groundhogs; I can’t imagine larger predators would have much success out in the open like this. I guess I’ll find out in about twelve hours, eh?

Once we had the meal in our bellies, Yojoti and I cleaned up and went through our packs once more before going to bed, with light still in the sky. I made sure to lock the door from the inside, dropping a screwdriver through the latch.

Normally I’d have trouble getting to sleep this early, but I’m honestly worn out after the last two days. Opening the door to a different world, killing a freaking gnoll, earning a bunch of blisters digging a grave, walking miles in the dark, starting to learn a new language, walking some more miles, digging potatoes, crying over Patricia…

Before I noticed it, I was out, and it felt like just a few minutes later that Yojoti shook me awake, silhouetted in the predawn light coming through the now open door. For breakfast, we ate the remainder of the potatoes I had collected the previous day–apparently two grown men who walked half a day and then did manual labor could eat a fair amount. We could always dig up some more later. Shifting my gaze from the brightening Eastern sky, I considered the shed one last time.

I know I said leaving it open made more sense before, but now that I’m actually leaving, the idea of this place staying unsecured irks me. I’ll go ahead and move the latch back to the outside so I can lock it, even if there’s no guarantee I’ll ever be back here. Though I suppose we might come through near here on our way back to town? I guess I’ll find out eventually.

Pulling a screwdriver from my belt, I set to removing screws, before flipping the latch around and reattaching it. I detached one of the padlocks from a strap on my pack, and slapped it onto the latch. This setup wouldn’t stop a really determined intruder, but at the very least rain wouldn’t blow right into the door.

Satisfied that I was ready to go, I hefted my pack onto my shoulders with the accompanying clanking of the cooking accoutrement attached to the outside. Yojoti did the same, and we set off toward the new day’s light.