It was nearly my fourteenth birthday. Lately, I've started to work as a lumberer.. Our life was comfortable enough as it was; we were self-sufficient with what we had and sold excess crops to cover what we couldn't get on our own, but with that said, is it so wrong to want a little more?
The work was hard, boring, repetitive and long. To fell a tree could take several days to a week of constant swinging due to how tough the wood was, but after all, that's what made it so valuable. The pay was excellent for the work, and the thought of that made it tolerable. Of course, demand was high and supply was low. More ships were needed for the war, but all the men who cut the trees were fighting in the war. All that was left here were the woman, children and the old and sickly. So I worked hard to earn money, even give my age I was quite decently built, slightly taller and more muscular than other kids my age. Mother tells me it's due to my blood. Metonyms develop fast and then age slowly until they get old and start to age rapidly. Most people can't tell the difference between a metonym that's twenty and forty from looks alone, or so I've been told.
The harder I worked, the more I thought, Why was I doing this? My life was comfortable, so why did I need more money? Maybe I wanted to buy gifts for my mother, maybe I wanted us to eat better food, maybe I wanted us to live in a nicer house. Was it clothing? Furniture? Luxury goods? What was I actually working towards swinging this damn axe over and over?
Of course, it was to leave.
Nothing changed. I hated this place, this town. My mother was the only reason I haven't already left, that and the fact that the other towns might treat me worse and travelling so young can be dangerous alone, lest I get abducted and sold into slavery. So I need more money, enough to go far, far away and to pay for safe travel. Perhaps I could go to a place they visited on their adventures together. That would be nice. But for now, I wanted to take what money I had and spend it on something I've never really had before. An actual birthday celebration. And with that, and a final swing, the tree toppled.
Felling a tree was a good feeling. Not only did I get to go home earlier, but I also got a small bonus. With this coinage, I went straight to the markets to look at what I could buy. I spent time browsing stores, come to think of it, this was the first time I had ever actually done so. I looked at the bakery, the butcher and various smaller merchant stalls. All of them, of course, gave me a foul look, like I was some horrid creature they wanted to be rid of. However, the moment I clutched my coin purse, they noticed and their expression changed instantly. Figures. Well, either way, my birthday isn't for a few more days, and to be completely honest, I much prefer my mother's cooking. She has her own ways of making certain mushroom-based dishes that are just the best. I think I would prefer that over any of this anyway.
"Qu'avons-nous ici?" [What do we have here?]
I recognised that voice, it was Louis. A boy around my age with whom I sometimes explored the woods. Alongside him were Stéphane and Pierre. One was a bit older and tougher, the other was younger, fat and timid.
"Que faites-vous?" [What are you doing?]
When Louis spoke, the other two always stood behind him on either side.
"Je fais du lèche-vitrine pour voir s'il y a quelque chose que je veux pour mon anniversaire." [I'm window-shopping to see if there's anything I want for my birthday.]
Louis tilted his head and strutted closer, his hands in his pockets.
"C'est la même chose ici, en fait. Mais nos parents ne nous donnent pas d'argent de poche, alors je ne pense pas que nous pourrons t'acheter quoi que ce soit." [It's the same here, actually. But our parents don't give us pocket money, so I don't think we'll be able to buy you anything.]
I was taken a bit by surprise. I've only known them for a few months now, almost a year, actually. I don't remember ever telling them when my birthday was. But I suppose parents talk, and if I'm not mistaken, Pierre's father is Noah.
"C'est dommage. Mais je n'ai pas vraiment envie de quoi que ce soit." [That's a shame. But I don't really want anything.]
"Ehh? Nous avions prévu une surprise pour toi, mais nous n'avons pas assez d'argent." [Ehh? We had planned a surprise for you, but we don't have enough money.]
"Nous avons appris que vous avez abattu un arbre aujourd'hui." [We hear you cut down a tree today.] Stéphane finally piped up in his usual overly loud voice.
"et vous avez gagné une prime." [And you've earned a bonus.] Pierre stuttered out as he looked to the floor. Saying it like this was something rehearsed.
"Oui, c'est bien cela. Si vous pouviez nous prêter cette prime, nous pourrions vous acheter ce cadeau surprise. Tu as dit que tu n'allais pas le dépenser de toute façon, n'est-ce pas?" [Yes, that's right. If you could lend us that bonus, we could buy you that surprise gift. You said you weren't going to spend it anyway, right?]
I thought about what Louis said for a moment, but I know everything they said was true. They know enough about me to know what I like, and the idea of a surprise gift did interest me. I was so curious, I really wanted to know what it could be. So I held tossed the coin purse to Louis.
"Il vaudrait mieux que ce soit une surprise vraiment cool." [It better be a really cool surprise.]
The three smiled, nodded and walked away. Heading deeper into the market street as I was heading home. I'm sure I'll run into them again tomorrow anyway. They were good guys, always true to their word, and so I trusted them. Also, they said they were only wanting to borrow the money, so I'm sure they will pay me back eventually once they start getting work or an allowance. I was thinking about it so hard I didn't realise I had turned left slightly too early, and rather than walking past the graveyard, I walked into it. When I realised, I simply hopped the low fence and continued down my path.
I spoke with my mother the next morning over breakfast about the idea of my birthday. I mentioned the idea I had of using the money I was bringing in from work to actually have a proper celebration, perhaps a feast. Though when she asked me what I would like, I couldn't think of an answer, much like yesterday. I had lived exclusively on her cooking, so I didn't know what else was out there. I was afraid that I might spend money on something and then end up disliking it, and the fact was, I couldn't tell good food from bad without tasting it first. So she came up with an idea.
"If you give me the money, I can take care of it. I know what you like, so I can buy some food you'll love."
She reached over and stroked my head as she spoke. My worries about what to spend the money on melted instantly, after all, who knew me better?
I didn't see my friends again that day. Or the day after. In fact, I didn't see them again until the day before my birthday.
The day was like any other. I awoke to the voice of my mother, and when I stumbled out of my room, I smelled breakfast being made. I would fetch water from the well, come back, sit down and eat breakfast with my mother. I thought about asking her if she had any ideas on what she was going to get me tomorrow, but I also liked the idea of it being a surprise. A part of me was nervous that I might not like whatever she gets, but she does cook every meal I eat, surely after fourteen years, she knows my tastes.
That day was a slow day on the farm. I had free time, and mother said she was going to go into town by herself. I decided to water some crops I had noticed were a little dehydrated near the northern side of the property. As I did, I heard some voices coming from the woods nearby. Young voices, bickering voices. My friend's voices, the three of them were arguing about where they were, that they were lost and if this was even the right way to my place. My Place? Why were they coming here through the woods and not through the road?
"Ici" [Here]
I called out, and the bickering voices fell silent. I repeated myself even louder, and the sounds of the three stumbling through the woods grew louder as, after a few moments, in the distance, they emerged behind a thicket. Waving to me.
"Enfin" [Enfin] Louis sighed out. "Voici ton cadeau d'anniversaire. Viens le voir." [Here's your birthday present. Come and see it.] He said as he held up a sack.
I placed my watering can under our cart shelter next to our crop sacks so it was in the shade. I walked into the woods and towards the three. Stéphane and Pierre had sat down on a fallen tree, seemed like they were in the woods for a while. Their clothes were a bit dirty, and their hands were covered in dirt. Pierre looks the most out of breath. What could have taken them so long to get from the woods?
"Nous sommes allés plus au nord et avons trouvé quelque chose d'intéressant qui pourrait vous plaire." [We went further north and found something interesting that you might like.]
Louis handed me the sack, and I opened the top of it and looked inside. There were black mushrooms. I looked up to Louis and over to the others who were sitting. They seemed fine. I didn't know this mushroom; I felt as if I had seen it once before. Though if these three picked these by hand, then contact was at least safe. I reached in and picked one of the mushrooms out of the bag, looking it over carefully, I brought it close and sniffed it. There was nothing strange about it other than its colour, a deep purple. If not held in direct sunlight, it looks black. I looked again at the two sitting on the dead tree. They seemed fine. I put the mushroom back into the sack and closed it. My mother might know more than I about it, and if not, she might know the best ways for determining if it's safe better than I.
"Voulez-vous venir boire un verre chez moi?" [Would you like to come and have a drink at my place?] They clearly looked thirsty, slightly dehydrated and in need of water to wash themselves.
I invited them in, and they washed their hands with water I drew from the well. I offered them all some water, and after a short sit-down, they all decided to take their leave, claiming they had a few other things they wanted to do in the woods today. I asked if they might need my help since I could navigate through the woods better than they, but they said they were going to head to the southern woods to check on something. Before I could ask any further, they waved, said farewell and ran off. Leaving me with the sack of black mushrooms on the table.
I took out one mushroom again and stared at it, trying to remember everything mother taught me about figuring out is a mushroom is safe or not. It was safe to touch the spores, are most likely all gone from harvesting, there was no strange smell to it, the mushroom itself was a consistent colour even after being roughly handled. All signed showed it was safe.
I picked it up and ripped the cap from the stem. I then ripped the cap in half and used a knife to cut the stem in half. Both were very solid and dry on the inside. Now, is one half safer than the other? I decided to cook one half of the cap and one half of the stem to see if anything changed. Once they were cooking over the fire for a moment, the colour of them lightened, which seemed odd, but the smell smelled amazing. Before I realised it, I was adding some salt to them as well.
I took my four pieces of mushrooms outside and headed over to the chicken pen. I fed one piece to one chicken each to make sure eating it wouldn't kill me. After observing them for a few minutes, they seemed fine. The ones I gave the cooked parts to, however, were standing much closer to me than the other two. I decided to go about my day and check in on them later once they had digested the mushroom to see if it did anything to them.
A while later, my mother returned home at a rather unfortunate time. She knew I was in my room, as there were only three rooms and I didn't enter hers. She called out down the hall, asking me what the sack on the table was. After a few moments, I emerged from my bedroom, pulling my pants up.
I went to where we kept the clean, distilled water and drank some. After downing a cup, I finally answered her.
"Some weird mushrooms, my friends gave them to me as an early birthday gift."
She let out a long "hmmm" as she opened the bag and looked inside. "These safe?"
I shrugged. "I've been testing them, and everything about them seems okay. I did the half and half test you showed me and fed them to the chicken a while ago now."
She adjusted her posture, putting her weight on her back leg as her hands landed on her hips. "What are we going to do if you end up killing four of our chickens? We don't have any fertile eggs, you know."
I scratched my head as it slung slightly low as I apologised meekly. I hadn't even thought to harvest some fertile eggs in case the chickens died. Just then, I heard a sound, a sniff. Looking up, I saw my mother's somewhat assertive posture give way as she tilted her head in the air and sniffed. She walked closer to me, sniffing at the air. I sniffed as well, wondering what she was smelling; her smell was better than mine by a lot. I started to get a bit nervous as she got closer to me with her sniffing. I mean, I get I'm at that age now, but you don't have to call me out with a smell!
Just then, she thankfully walked right past me and towards the fireplace and the cooking pan above it. She stuck her nose into the pan and sniffed it some more. She then suddenly snapped her head towards me.
"What did you cook in this?"
"Just those black mushrooms. They got lighter as I cooked them."
She walked quickly back to the bag and opened it, lifting it to her face and shoving her nose into the opening of the small sack as she inhaled deeply. She had a confused look on her face as she sniffed again. Putting the sack down, she turned to me.
"Something that smells that good definitely is safe to eat"
I wanted to ask her how she knew that for certain, but I knew it was pointless. She had an intuition for nature that was impossible to describe. If not for being stuck here, she might have made a fantastic herbalist somewhere.
"Only one way to be sure" She took another mushroom out of the sack and dropped the whole thing into the cooking pan, placing it over the fire. The mushroom began to cook. The two of us stared at it as we watched the black colour fade from it. As it faded, mother ran her finger across the mushroom, and the black colour left a stain on her finger. We both looked down at the black substance on her finger and then looked at each other. Without warning, she hovered the tip of her finger in my mouth. I recoiled instantly at the foul, bitter taste and began trying to spit out whatever the black substance was. She laughed and said. "That's what you get for using my chickens as test subjects without getting any eggs first." She handed me a wooden cup of water for me to wash my mouth out with.
We figured out that the mushroom had a thin outer layer that was bitter and foul tasting, but with heat, it evaporated away quickly, revealing the rest of the mushroom. She removed the last of it with her finger again and tasted it herself. She guessed that, at worst, the black outer layer might give you an upset stomach or make you vomit if you have too much. How she guessed that I have no idea, maybe it tasted similar to something else that did that?
As the now naked mushroom cooked, she started adding salt to it. As the skin started to brown slightly, she removed it from the pan with her bare hands. It was too hot, so she juggled it between her hands as she stammered out half-phrased expletives. She tossed the mushroom to me, I caught it with both hands and then with a 'yauch' I tossed it onto the table. It sat there steaming as I turned to my mother, angrily, I pointed to the counter next to the pan, "We have tongs!" She looked at me like she completely forgot they even existed and wasn't even sorry about it.
We divided the mushroom into four pieces again, like I had before with the chickens. Though this time all four pieces were cooked and salted. I had half of the cap and half of the stem, and so did my mother. We looked at each other, unsure how to proceed. "Stem" I asked. She nodded, and we both grabbed the stem. We held it up high above our heads briefly for a moment as we did with every meal, and both simultaneously put the stem into our mouths.
The silence was brief and short-lived as we both emitted a hum, a pleased sight and a muffled, closed-mouth squeal of delight all at once. This was easily the best-tasting mushroom, if not one of the best-tasting foods I've ever had in my whole life. The rest of the mushroom was devoured instantly. As I was savouring the cap, mother had already taken the sack of mushrooms and run to the pan, dumping all of the mushrooms into it. It was just that good that we needed more.
The two of us hovered over the mushrooms as they cooked, staring intently at them as we were almost drooling over the smell. Once the first one was cooked, my mother grabbed it with her hands and crammed it into her mouth. I expected her to huff and puff smoke and reach for a glass of water for the heat, but her eyes lit up from the taste. I followed her moves, shockingly, the intense heat that would harm your hands vanished instantly once it entered the mouth. As soon as it was in your mouth, the temperature was still hot, but just the right level of hot. It was perfection.
After a while, all the mushrooms were gone. The two of us sat at the table with the empty sack between us.
"I wish I could have tried cooking them in a stew."
"Can we have that tomorrow? I can get more."
My mother leapt up, slamming her hands on the table in excitement. "You can get more?!"
"My friends gave me these. I can just ask where they found them and get more."
Mother sat down again and grabbed the sack, looking inside it. "I want to see them too. If I can see what kind of environment they like to grow in, I might be able to cultivate them here." She dropped the sack on the table. "If you're getting more, you're going to need a bigger sack."
The next day, my mother handed me a harvest basket to sling over my back and basically pushed me out the door right after breakfast. I was a bit surprised, but a moment later the door swung open again as she grabbed the basket on my back, pulled me backwards, spun me around and hugged me as she wished me a happy birthday. She was so excited about the mushrooms that it was almost like she forgot for a moment there.
I walked the road into town and quickly walked through the market road, looking around for my friends. After a moment, I reached the dead end of the road that was the village hall, where meetings took place. It also served as our church, court and under it was a small prison, not that it was ever used for anything other than locking up drunkards overnight who were too rowdy.
I dipped onto a side road and walked around the residential area for a bit. It took only about thirty minutes before I had walked past every house. It was more dencly packed here and with such a small population the town was small. As I was about to head towards the northern woods entrance, I spotted Pierre walking the other way. I called out to him and he stoped, I ran up to him.
"Hé, Pierre. Peux-tu me dire où tu as trouvé les champignons noirs que tu m'as donnés hier ? Ils étaient si bons que je veux aller en cueillir d'autres" [Hey, Pierre. Can you tell me where you got those black mushrooms you gave me yesterday? They were so good that I want to go and pick some more.]
He stammered for a moment as if nervous for whatever reason.
"Suivez-moi" [Follow me]
Slightly confused, I did, and he led me to the northernmost entrance to the woods where nobody was around. After a moment of looking around nervously, he leaned in close to me and whispered.
"Nous les avons trouvés dans le lieu interdit" [We found them in the forbidden place]
Of course, I knew instantly the place he was talking about. There was a section of the woods; if you went into the northern path and continued north after a while, you would come across it. An area where the soil went from brown to black, where the trees shed their leaves a month too early, a place that was rife with superstition and was forbidden for any to enter.