Amos Daragon_ The Mask Wearer - Bryan Perro [2]
Inside the cottage, a wooden table, three chairs, and bunk beds were the only furniture. The chimney occupied almost all the surface of the east wall. A cooking pot was always hanging on the hook above the fire. Living here meant a constant battle against heat and cold, against hunger and poverty.
Since childhood, Amos had acquired many skills. He hunted pheasant and hare in the forest, fished in the river with an improvised fishing rod, and collected shellfish on the ocean shores. Thanks to him, the family managed to survive, even if on some days there wasn’t much on the table.
Over the years, Amos had perfected an almost foolproof way of catching edible birds. He used a long branch shaped like a Y, along which he slid a cord with a slipknot at the end. When he spotted a partridge, he stayed a good distance from his prey, only slowly moving the forked end of the branch toward the animal. Noiselessly, Amos would slip the knot around the bird’s neck and suddenly pull on the cord. In this manner, he often brought home the family dinner.
Amos learned to listen to nature, to blend in among the ferns, and to walk noiselessly in the woods. By the time he was twelve years old, he was familiar with the different types of trees and their fruits and nuts, knew the best spots for finding wild berries, and could track all the animals of the forest. Sometimes, during the cold season, he unearthed truffles, mushrooms that grow underground, at the base of oak trees. The forest held no secrets from him.
But Amos was deeply unhappy. Every day, he saw his father suffering and his mother declining in spirit. Always short of money, his parents often argued. They had sunk into a daily misery that they couldn’t get out of. When they were younger, Urban’s and Frilla’s eyes had sparkled, and they were always making travel plans, happy to be carefree. Now their eyes showed only sadness and exhaustion, and they never went anywhere. Every night, Amos dreamed of saving his parents and giving them a better life. He also dreamed of having a mentor who would explain the world to him; his parents were too poor to send him to school, and he longed for someone to answer his questions and advise him as to what to read. Every night, Amos Daragon went to sleep hoping that tomorrow would bring him a better life.
One beautiful summer morning, Amos went down to the beach to gather some mussels and dislodge a few crabs. He followed his usual path without much success. The little he had gathered sat at the bottom of one of his two wooden buckets; it wouldn’t be enough to feed three people.
Well! he thought. That’s all I’m going to find here. But it’s still early and the sun is shining, so I’ll go and see what I can find on another beach.
Amos was all set to go to an unfamiliar spot when he remembered the bay of caverns. It was a good ways off, but he had gone there a few times and knew that if he hurried now, and quickened his pace on his way back, he would be home before the end of the afternoon, as he had promised his father.
The bay of caverns was a place where the ebb and flow of the tides had eroded and hollowed the stones to form grottoes, ponds, and impressive sculptures. Amos had stumbled upon the spot, where he always managed to gather a large quantity of crabs and mussels. But the great distance kept him from going there regularly. With a large bucket filled to the rim in each hand, the way back home was never easy.
After a two-hour walk, Amos finally reached the bay of caverns. Exhausted, he sat on the beach pebbles and contemplated the low tide and the immense sculptures cut by the ocean that presided over the bay like petrified giants. Everywhere on the cliff, Amos could see the gaping holes created by thousands of years of tides, waves, and storms. The cool wind from the open sea caressed his tanned skin, and the high sun burned his nose.
“Now, Amos, let’s get started!” he told himself.
He quickly filled his two buckets with crabs. On the beach, dozens more had been overtaken by low tide and were trying