Words for Wednesday - Mary and Allan revisited - 5

The story of the people from the Wieliczka salt mine continued.

Words:
Wardrobe
Silhouette
Sergeant
Dispensation

Placebo
Displeasure
Sympathy
Discretion

Used here: none.

The evening meal was a boisterous affair with grace said in Latin by fr. Paul, for all to understand ... or not. It was a repetition of lunch, soup and pierogi, but tasty as always. Beata had been great for making of pierogi, a task where her broken leg did not hamper her. The long man in Allan's suit, hung the lamps in the windows, his long arms making it easy for him.
Evening's story time was easy. Mary told the story of how she, Pete and their families had survived in the cellar and how they build the floating village and rescued people from cellars and dungeons. Eva, fr. Paul and Sally translating as best they could. She ended the story in the war museum: "Tomorrow Alan will tell his tale. Now it's time for sleep."
The wieliczka people were split up in smaller groups, and assigned two 'guardians' or helpers, to teach them the ropes. It was an uneasy night. The village and planes people were used to the slight movements of their vessels, but the wieliczka refuges had been on solid ground, the many noises and movements made them ill at ease. Tom and Hank slept to each side of Francesco, with a rope round their wrists bound to him. But he slept through the night, still dazed from the clubbing over the head he had received from Janne and Michael and the sedation during the stitching up of the same.

In the morning the first thing to be done after the morning chores, was the burial of Strega. She was undressed washed and a thin rope weighed bu stones tied round her middle. Father Paul sad the relevant prayers with Beata, Robert and surprisingly Francesco holding the rope consigning her to her watery grave when father Paul spoke the final Amen, echoed by most of the gathered survivors.
After a short silence, they split up in four teams. Always double up the original numbers as compared to the Wieliczkans, keeping the language groups intact and friends and family together as well. The wieliczkans could not yet row, they were given the sounding off jobs, or just sitting in the boat with their 'guardians'. Breakfast was eaten in turns as the plane did not have room for that many seated comfortably at once.

They left the mountain range, going back the way they had come as far as necessary before going west to Goslar and the German high grounds where they had decided to settle.
Tom and Hank had had a miserable day tied to Francesco, they had been unable to do much, but setting the course. Danuta, who was still subdued after yesterday's translating duties suggested a small detour to another Polish salt mine, Bochnia, Tom asked her to show him on the map, and it was indeed only a small detour. "We'll go east instead of west, when we reach the right position south-north " Tom said. "Finding more people is more important than anything."
"Why?" Danuta asked.
"You better ask Mary," Tom said. "She has a way with words, and she made us all see it her way in the beginning."
"I will," Danuta said. "I'd think the less people to share the foodstuff the better."
That evening after Allan's story of the plane flight and the ensuing events until the meeting on Møn, the word was free. Granny T rose, looking worried: "When we left Allans Dunes we had enough to eat for four months. Then we met the floating village and their supplies were abundant, putting the estimate at nearer to five or six months with slim rations. Now, in one swoop we have added half again the number of inhabitants to our number, and thus reduced the time our supplies are good for. I'm not that good at maths," Granny T said, "but subtracting the 40 days we have already been underway, and then divide by three and multiply by two ... that means we'll run out of edibles in 2 and a half months and not almost 4 from today. Am I right?"
"Yes your maths are sound," Pete said seconded by Jill, "but," Pete continued, "we have sailed faster than we estimated, the rains have almost stopped and more people mean more speed. When they get their muscles back."
"Which also mean to feed them better," Granny T said, managing to smile despite her worried looks. "More proteins, more fats. We're going to live on beans and cabbage for some days now."
"Listen to her," Robert said, "You've better start training tomorrow to keep on the good side of Granny T here."
Fred and Sarah looked at one another, Fred rose: "Not tomorrow, nor the day after. You were all malnourished and we need your metabolism to normalise before you begin training. Walk or swim slowly a lot, don't sit too much. Drink lots of water and sweet tea." He turned to Granny T: "We won't run out of sugar anytime soon, I hope."
"No," she said shaking her head. "We'll do. If they need it, they'll have it!"

"And still, knowing these numbers, you agreed to sailing to Bochnia to look for even more people?" Danuta said and turned to Mary. "Mary, Tom said you could explain this better than him, please do!"
Mary rose, a bit red in the face. "Long ago. The evening we had all met on the white cliffs of Møn, we had a discussion of where to go and what to do. We all agreed in going south for longer summers and warmer climate, but when it came to how to build our community, we disagreed. I then, as now, speak for a close network of small villages, say ten families to each in a circle around a "town". Town here not necessarily being bigger, but with a church," she bowed in fr. Paul's direction, "a school for higher learning, and advanced industry. I know, we all know if we stop to think about it, that mankind is nothing special if we remove the language, the ability to pass on knowledge." She estoppel to let this sink in and giving the translators a chance to catch up, and many wieliczkans nodded, looking thoughtful. Mary continued when everybody looked at her again, making her feel fidgety: "I then told a story of some refugees I taught. Their grandparents were smart ones, businessmen, politicians, skilled artisans and so on. Well read, speaking several languages. Then came the war. Their parents were still civilized, good people, but not as well educated as their parents ..."
"Education is not everything," one of the wieliczkans interrupted.
"No it's not, and that's not my point either. Bear with me for a short while longer. But the children, who had been born during the war, spent their first 10 up to 14 years in the war zone, fighting for survival, on the run, hiding, scavenging. and so on ... they were different. They had come to Denmark, they went to school, learned Danish maths and so on. Most of them had good notes, were able to go on in the school system. But they lacked something. I arranged a trip to the forest. Many of those teens did not want to come. As I asked them why not, they were afraid of dangerous animals in the woods. At first I smiled, and told them that vipers, wasps and ticks were the worst they would meet. But I was met with similar incidents too often, lack of basic knowledge, lack of trust, lack of ... you might call it common sense and curiosity. Children need time to learn, to play, to be bored even. And they won't have that if we do not have a surplus of manpower. If we're not enough to get over critical mass. And no, I do not know how many is critical mass. That's why we're zig-zagging our way through Europe, looking for people in likely and unlikely places. That's why Tom did not hesitate to go on a wild goose chase for Bochnia tomorrow. None of us would hesitate."
Hetty brought the evening tea, today only tea, no cakes, It was drunk in an unusual silence. The wieliczkans were quiet, and the plane and village people knew better than to intrude.
Surprisingly Francesco broke the silence. "I have been suspicious ever since we met," he said by way of introduction, in heavily accented English. "I have been looking for your hidden agenda, for the barb beneath your cute words, your kindness and trusting behaviour. I saw Hank putting away the bow and the crate of arrows, but hanging the key in plain view. I have seen your kitchen, your food stash. I have seen your planting facilities. You have been open, to naivety, maybe over. I could not understand. I'm still not sure I understand."
"We are compulsively sharing," Tom said laughing. "Mary has taught us well."
"And still you do not trust me. I do understand. I'm not a very trustworthy person. And I am a thing that hinders your going forth - I miss a word?"
"A drag on us?" Tom supplied. "Yes you are, and a sourly one at that," he smiled to lessen the impact of his words.
"I thought you had had an easy life after the desastro. But I see your struggle at the Allan Dunes. your knowing what had happened. Your aloneness. Yet I still not trust."
"You will work tomorrow." "Tom said. Tomorrow we go people hunting in Bochnia and you're rowing alongside me."
That ended the meeting. But the night brought many whispered conversations and telling of stories.