BobWrites

This piece was begun as a five minute exercise in a creative Writing workshop. The first four paragraphs were done in the five minutes. I liked the piece and so later continued the journey.



Old Abel was thought by his neighbors to be something of a hermit. He lived alone in a stone hut just outside of town. No one knew from whence he came or if somewhere he had friends or family. All they knew of him was that he fished, trapped rabbits and grew herbs and vegetables in a large garden behind his hut. He almost never came to town so it was a truly unusual event when he appeared at the General Store carrying a small bundle in a sack slung over his shoulder, and stated that he was about to take a journey.

"Where are you going?" asked Ezra, the store's proprietor.

"How long will you be gone?" asked Emma, Ezra's wife.

They received no answer. Old Abel simply shrugged, turned on his heel, marched out of the store and down the road leading south.


He walked for three days, ever southward. He met few travelers along the road. When they greeted him he responded with a single nod, and continued his trek. Along the roadsides berries, fruits and nuts were abundant. Abel's diet now consisted solely of these.

Abel was tall and gaunt. He wore a shapeless wide-brimmed hat which covered most of his long gray unkempt hair. His dark blue eyes blazed beneath his shaggy black eyebrows. His nose was long and thin. A red scar slashed across his chin, contrasting starkly with the bright whiteness of his teeth. He wore a weather beaten tan jacket atop heavy dark blue sweater. On his feet were well worn hikers boots.

At about four in the afternoon of the third day Abel entered the seaport town of Southhaven. There a southbound ship was completing its complement of seamen. Abel signed on as assistant to the cook. The ship's main cargo was blocks of ice from Canada, bound for Brazilian and Argentinean seaports, thence to be carted inland to underdeveloped villages not yet served by electricity.

During those first days Abel performed his duties well. He could be seen silently peeling root vegetables, silently stirring the pots and silently cleaning the dishes from the officers' mess.

Early on the morning of the fourth day, the Captain and First Mate entered the galley.
"The cook has a fever," said the Captain to Abel. "Can you cover for him until he recovers?"
Abel nodded. But the cook did not recover. The next day he died of his fever, leaving Abel in charge of the cooking. Shipboard, trepidation abounded. Ships' food was usually bad enough; in the hands of an unskilled amateur it promised to be all but inedible.

So all were surprised as they gradually realized their food was in the hands of a gastronomic genius. Somehow Old Abel knew what amounts of which ingredients to combine at exactly when in the cooking process to bring forward all the subtleties of their flavors and textures.

Abel produced fish chowders, silky, with a creamy texture and with a suggested a hint of sherry. He created robust stews, brimming with tender meats and fresh vegetables, flavored with ginger, garlic and a generous splash of burgundy wine.

At the end of the first week, the Captain came to Abel, all smiles, and asked if he'd like a boy to help with his chores. Abel shook his head 'No.' Somehow he managed to keep up with all the work himself without ever seeming overly busy. One day the First Mate looked in at the galley. He was impressed with how quickly and efficiently the old man went about his preparations.

Morale on the ship was the highest the Captain had ever experienced. Both officers and the common seamen found themselves happily talking about food, anticipating their next meal and speculating about what magic Abel would next perform.

At each port-of-call Abel would go ashore, followed by the cabin boy, to purchase supplies from the local markets. Both would return heavily laden, to be greeted by an excited crew. What new miracles would Abel now create?

The crew's consensus favorite was a bread pudding highlighted with the flavors of brown sugar, of cinnamon, and of nutmeg - topped off with sprinkled raisins and a dash of dark Jamaican rum.

At the end of three weeks, Abel asked to train the cabin boy in the art of table service for the Captain's table. Of course Abel's tutelage resulted in Haute Cuisine service never before experienced by the ship's officers, save the Captain, who was a gourmet in his own right. Eventually he permitted Abel to select the wines for his table from his extensive assortment. Abel selected impeccably. The cabin boy was trained to pour like a Sommelier.

The Captain began to have dreams of opening a restaurant with Abel as chief chef. 'A high class place', he thought, where ladies arrived in evening gowns and men in dress suits. Prices would be outlandish. A nautical décor would be nice - and he thought of Abel's delicate touch with fish - the finest he had ever tasted. 'The cabin boy can be the first waiter and he can help train the others.'

Many were regretful when the five months voyage was over. Some came to Abel to thank him and ask what ship he planned next to sign up for. But Abel only shook his
head. The Captain came to the galley with Abel's wages. He asked Abel to sign on with him for the return journey. Abel only shook his head, "I go south," was all he said.

Next day, Abel was gone. He was last seen walking on a southward road with his sack slung over his shoulder.


For two days Abel walked at his steady ground-swallowing pace. During the mornings he stopped only to gather fruits and berries. At sundown he built a fire and slept through the night. At midday of the third day he entered a town where he added provisions to his sack and departed.

Later that afternoon as the sun struggled to warm the chilling air, Abel looked behind him to find he was being followed. A boy about 12 years old was 100 yards behind him. Abel continued his walk, and looking behind him, found the boy had continued following.

At one point in the late afternoon Abel looked back but the boy was not to be seen. Abel felt disappointed. He was growing comfortable with the idea of company on the road. About an hour later Abel looked again and was pleased to find the boy had returned. Still the boy did not approach.

Finally Abel stopped and motioned for the boy to come nearer. The boy came closer, stopping about ten yards behind. He was short, dark skinned and wiry. He had bright brown eyes and a ready smile. Abel liked him at once.

Toward evening Abel found a sheltered cove - a place to spend the night. He built a campfire and began to warm his hands. Again he gestured a welcome to the boy, who this time approached. As he drew near the boy held out his hands to show Abel he had three eggs in them.

Abel smiled and nodded. He briefly searched for and found a thin flat rock which he heated in the fire. Then from his sack he selected two small containers. From one he poured a bright red powder. From the other he shook some dark green flakes. These he scrambled with the eggs.

As the boy caught the fragrance of the cooking eggs an expression of ecstasy came to his face - his eyes widened, his mouth smiled and his entire body shivered with anticipation.

As they shared their meal, the boy closed his eyes and ate rapturously.

That night they slept side by side. Next day they walked together without speaking. Abel had slackened his pace so the boy could more easily keep up. All day they walked in silence.

Toward evening, Abel, at last, spoke.

"What's your name?" he asked in Spanish. The boy understood.

"Luiz. What's yours?"

"Abel."

"Where are you going?" asked Luiz.

"South, ever south," answered Abel. "And where are you going?"

"With you!" Luiz responded quickly.

Abel raised his eyebrows. "It's very cold where I'm going."

The boy shrugged. "When it gets too cold I'll leave you."

Again they walked in silence.

As evening approached Abel stopped beside a stream and began to assemble wood for a campfire. The boy understood at once and he too gathered wood. Abel saw fish in the stream. He tried to catch one with his hands, to no avail. The fish were too quick for him.

The boy laughed and signaled for Abel to watch him. He moved 20 yards upstream where the water narrowed and flowed more swiftly. Here the fish had to jump to make headway against the current. As a fish reached the surface, the boy snatched it from the water. In a few minutes the boy had caught four edible sized fish which he presented to Abel.

Abel and the boy, both still silent, squatted in front of a low flat rock and Abel began his magic.

He took a knife from his sack and swiftly scaled the four fish. He then sliced them open and scraped out the unwanted organs. Then he lifted out the bones and cut the remainders in two. Soon eight filets adorned the rock.

Now Abel reached into his sack and brought out several clear plastic packets of powders, dried leaves and crystals. Abel selected several and carefully poured part of their contents into a pile. These he mixed together and then rubbed them into the filets. He finished the preparation by squeezing onto the fish the juice of a fruit he had gathered. Then he placed eight thin flat stones onto the fire and after a few minutes placed a filet on each. Soon they were sizzling on their stones, emitting an ambrosial fragrance.

With the first bite the boy seemed transported to some gastronomical heaven. With eyes closed he chewed slowly. Each time he opened his eyes he looked at Abel with a worshipful expression. Then he began a barrage of questions. Who was Abel? How old was he? Where had he come from? How long had he been travelling? Where was he going? How long was the journey to take? How had he learned to cook? Had he a family?

For a while Abel was silent. Then slowly and carefully he began.

"My name is Abel. I come from North America. I've been traveling most of my life. The only continent I haven't seen is Antarctica. That's where I'm headed now. I don't know how long it will take to get there." Abel paused as Luiz nodded that he understood.

Abel continued. "I learned to cook from my mother, and from books, and from watching others. I have no family."

"No family?" the boy repeated as if in disbelief. Now he began his own narrative. "My name is Luiz. I have lots of family. I have a mother, a father, a grandmother, two brothers and five sisters. My family lives in Pequenista a small village near ________. My uncle raped my eight year old sister, so I killed him. Now I can't return home."

"Can you read?"

"Yes, both Spanish and English."

"How did you learn?"

"I worked in a missionary's home where they spoke English. I minded their six year old son and I paid attention when he was at his lessons."

"Can you write?

"Yes," answered Luiz proudly, "In both Spanish and English."

"What plans have you?" asked Abel.

"To stay with you and learn to cook."



Next day Abel began Luiz's training. For several weeks, as they walked, Abel explained first the chemistry and then the biology of the four basic flavors - sweet, sour, salty and bitter. He described where on the tongue each held precedence. Then he discussed heat and cold, crispness, smoothness and cheweyness. This led to a disquisition on the different characteristics of various meats, fish and poultry. Then to different cooking techniques, different temperatures, and the effects of different cooking durations. Next he went on to explain the uses of spices and herbs.

At first the boy said nothing but his attentiveness never flagged. When Luiz finally began to ask questions, Abel was pleased to find that the boy understood and remembered what he was being told. Abel found himself thoroughly enjoying his own unexpected volubility. Even better, it helped distract him from the intense pain, the ever increasing pain, he felt from within his body.

Each night, as he prepared the evening meal, and as he demonstrated different preparation techniques, Abel coordinated his demonstration with some of the things he had spoken of during the day.

After a few weeks Luiz began helping with the preparations. Abel was amazed at how quickly the boy mastered each of the skills. Now and again Luiz would vary something in Abel's recipes. Sometimes the experiment would fail, but sometimes the result was wonderful. Most important to Abel was that all the trials made sense and showed the boy's creative gustatory instinct.

Abel now found himself overjoyed with the pleasure that he and Luiz shared in the boy's increasing skills. 'He's a treasure,' thought Abel. He was so engrossed in training the boy that he was distracted from the gnawing pain spreading within his body - that ever present, ever intensifying torment.

While awake Abel showed no outward sign of his pain. But the boy knew. He had lain awake at night as Abel tossed and groaned in his sleep. Many nights Luiz lay listening to the old man's suffering until he, sobbing in sympathy, finally slept himself.


It was late June when they finally approached Bahia Blanca. They stopped at an inn. Luiz went to a nearby stream to refill Abel's canteen while Abel went inside to speak with the proprietor. When Luiz returned he could see that Abel and the innkeeper were already on the best of terms.

"Luiz, Senior Paco has agreed to allow us to observe the operation of his kitchen."

Luiz felt a surge of excitement. The only kitchen he ever had seen was his mother's It had occupied one side of his family's living room. Paco took them both into the kitchen where Luiz was astounded at what he saw. A line of stoves and ovens, a sea of pots and pans, large walk-in refrigerators, cupboards stacked with dishes and glassware, containers of silverware, several sinks, and best of all, a wall fixture containing knives of different sizes and shapes together with an array of strangely shaped utensils. Four cooks and a dishwasher were at work. Luiz was fascinated.

Abel and the proprietor had agreed that Abel could help prepare the evening meals. Luiz could watch. In the meantime Abel took each pot in hand and described for Luiz the ideal use of each. Abel tapped with a ladle the bottom and side of each pot and then hand it it to Luiz to heft its weight. Paco stood by nodding and smiling.

Luiz became most excited when Abel began to demonstrate the knives. He showed Luiz the center of gravity of each and the kind of motion for which each knife was best suited.

Paco brought out a side of lamb and Abel began butchering it swiftly. Each time Abel switched to a different knife, he explained to Luiz why he had made the change. The other chefs, whenever they had a free moment, came to watch Abel. Luiz could see that they all were impressed.

That night they slept at the inn as special guests of Paco. He begged Abel to stay another day "After all, Luiz still had so much to learn."

But Abel expressed an urgency to continue south. From thence forward, at every opportunity, Abel would befriend an innkeeper or restaurateur to continue Luiz's gastronomical education. Luiz also began helping in the kitchens and Abel was gratified to see how quickly the boy understood the essentials of what he was learning. It soon became evident that Luiz had an instinct for artistic plating that exceeded even that of Abel, who beamed proudly as he viewed each of Luiz's presentations.


Gradually as they walked south, Abel began to describe to Luiz the satisfactions of a formal higher education, classical learning and university life. He emphasized the opportunities this presented for enjoying a richer life experience and his own regrets at not having pursued advanced degrees.

"How do you know so much?" asked Luiz in genuine wonderment.
"I'm self taught," answered Abel. "That has both its satisfactions and its limitations."

They walked on for a while in companionable silence as Luiz could see Abel struggling with his pain

It was getting colder as they continued their trek. In Comodoro Abel shopped for winter clothing for them both. "Where do you get your money?" asked Luiz.

"Over my lifetime," answered Abel, "I have accumulated plenty of money. More than I need. I have a nephew who manages it for me. Here is his business card. I've already spoken with him about you. If you choose to gain an education I will provide you with tuition, and money for expenses, plus $10,000 dollars a year for your family, for every year you study toward a degree. This will continue every year until you are forty. At that point I've provided $350,000 to be used at your discretion. My hope is that you will either buy or build a restaurant of your own. You may telephone my nephew to arrange the details. He's expecting your call."



They entered the town of Ushuaia. This will be where our journey together ends" said Abel told Luiz. At El Piscatore Abel received an enthusiastic greeting from Andre, the proprietor. Paco had called ahead to tell Andre of the treasure he was about to befriend.

Next day, Andre arranged for Abel to meet an airplane pilot with a shady reputation. For an outrageous fee he arranged for the pilot to fly him over the Antarctic Peninsula Glacier and permit him to parachute down. Since this was illegal, Abel was confident the pilot would remain silent about his mission. Abel then purchased spiked boots and ski poles

In their last tearful moments together Abel gave to Luiz his treasured sack and the cash he was carrying, amounting to some three hundred odd dollars.





Abel trudged across the ice. He headed toward two high hills in the distance. Their peaks, black and ominous, disappeared as they jutted into the low hanging clouds. The wind whipped and swirled, stinging his face. The pain within his body was more insistent than ever.

As he approached the base of the peaks he found a hollow where new snow had accumulated atop the glacial ice. "This is a good place," Abel said aloud to himself.
From his belt he removed a small hand axe and trowel. He marked an area about six feet long and two feet wide. Quickly he pushed the surface snow aside and chopped out the ice to form a long shallow hole.

He removed his jacket, carefully folded it to fashion a pillow and laid it at one end. He then removed his gloves, hat and boots and lay down in the hole.

"I've chosen when to die and where to die and how to die. What more can a man ask?"

His last thoughts were of the boy as the whirling wind sucked away the last of his body's warmth.

Snow covered him quickly,

It was some years later when two geologists, studying the effects of global warming discovered his still frozen, perfectly preserved body.

" Look!" said the first as he brushed the snow from Abel's face, "He's smiling."