Chapter 24 - Jimbo's Story, Part 1

Cable followed Jimbo into the teepee. It was dark inside, with just a little stream of light trickling down from the opening at the top. Jimbo immediately grabbed a candle, lit it, and set it on a small table in the middle of the teepee. He then turned to Cable and said, “Welcome to me abode, Herc. Make yourself homely. You’re welcome to take a seat in the corner.”

Cable turned and looked behind him. Of course, finding a seat in a corner was impossible, since the floor was a giant circle. Cable turned back toward Jimbo, only to see the strange man drop to the ground in laughter. “I made you look!” he declared, writhing on the ground in convulsions. “You fell for the oldest trick in the book! Oh my, am I funny or what? ‘Sit in the corner,’ I said. Ha! The room is a big circle! But for a second you looked for a corner! Oh my, I’m glad I haven’t lost my sense of humor. A big jokester, I am! Whew...” Jimbo sighed deeply and at long last came back to his feet.

Cable wasn’t amused. He enjoyed a good laugh every now and then, but he wasn’t particularly crazy about being the object of laughter. But just as he was opening his mouth to reply, Jimbo reached down, grabbed an animal skin, and threw it at him. “Here, mate, have a seat on Ben. It’s been a long time since I’ve had guests here, and Ben is my very best guest seat. He soft and cuddly, and he loves kids. Don’t you, Ben?” Jimbo paused while Cable spread the animal skin out on the floor. Then he mumbled, “I’m sorry, Ben. You can’t answer, can you? You’re dead. Oh well, your loss is our gain.”

In the dim candlelight, Cable struggled to see what kind of animal he was sitting on. The fur was brown and soft, and finally he found the flattened form of a head. It had once been a bear, and a pretty large one at that. “How’d you kill such a big bear, Jimbo?” Cable asked.

“That be a fine question, Herc,” Jimbo replied. (Cable grimaced whenever Jimbo called him “Herc”, but Jimbo either never noticed or didn’t care.) “You see, bears do a pretty fair job of dodging arrows, so I had to resort to my other weapon of choice.” Jimbo paused, reached over toward the edge of the teepee, and grabbed an object that he held proudly before Cable. “I used my sword!” he declared triumphantly.

“You killed a bear with a sword?” Cable asked incredulously.

“Yes, mate, I did indeed. You see, once upon a time I was a great swordsman. But old Ben, he didn’t realize that. So he just kind of comes at me and rears up on his hind legs like he’s going to rip my head from my body. And then I pretended to be horrified, and I said, ‘Oh no, don’t kill me, Ben! There’s only one of me, and if I die then I’ll be dead!’ And then, while old Ben paused to contemplate what I’d said, I took this sword and thrust it right through his heart!” Jimbo thrust the sword through the air as he relived the scene in front of Cable.

“How did a guy that lives in the woods get to be such a great swordsman?” queried Cable.

“Ah, I thought you’d never ask, Herc!” Jimbo replied. Reaching down, he grabbed another rug and laid it down opposite Cable. “Let me tell you my story, mate. I think you’ll like it. And besides, there really isn’t much else to do around here. Before I start, would you like a piece of dried meat?”

As Cable nodded, he saw Jimbo reach up and grab a piece of meat that was hanging from a rope that was dangling down. Beyond the rope, Cable saw a smiley face that had been scrawled on the inside of the teepee wall. Under the face were the words “Me Rachel. Troo luv.” Under the words was a heart with an arrow through it.

Jimbo noticed Cable staring at the wall as he handed over the piece of meat. “So you’re looking at me love, are you?” he asked.

“Yes, she’s very beautiful,” Cable replied, maintaining a straight face while trying with every ounce of strength to keep from bursting in laughter.

“Oh yes she is!” Jimbo agreed, turning around and looking at the picture himself. “Like you were saying, I am indeed a great swordsman. But if there is one thing I can’t do, it is draw (pronounced ‘draaaaaaaawwwww’). But I’ve got to admit, the portrait does capture her smile and her captivating eyes. Sometimes I just can’t keep from staring at her.”

Cable didn’t think the eyes of the drawing were all that captivating. They were just black dots scribbled on the wall. But Jimbo was quite enchanted with them and gazed silently at them for about two awkward minutes. Finally Cable broke the silence by saying, “So Jimbo...you were going to tell me about how you became such a great swordsman.”

“Oh yes, yes, of course I was. Are you comfortable? This could take awhile.” Then, without waiting for a reply, Jimbo began his tale.

“My life began when I was born. Don’t be surprised, Herc. Your life probably began that way, too. But mine was a little different because I was born at the same time as me brother, who also happened to be my twin. So that’s how I started out. I beat my brother by about 10 minutes. At least, that’s what me mum always told me.

“Well, although we were twins, we didn’t look very much alike, and we sure didn’t act very much alike. My brother was kind of a mamma's boy who just liked to stay around the house and help cook. Whenever I wanted to go shoot squirrels or catch fish, he’d just say, ‘Jimothy,’ (that’s me real name--Jimothy--but if you ever call me that, I’m afraid I’ll have to kill you), ‘I don’t really like to kill animals. I’m going to stay home and help mama.’ And I’d say, ‘If you don’t like killing animals, then why do you eat them?’ And he’d say, ‘If you’re going to kill them anyway, then I need to eat them to keep their lives from being wasted. But don’t ever ask me to kill an animal myself!’ And I’d say, ‘Have it your way, bro,’ and I’d take off.

“You see, Herc, I loved the outdoors. I couldn’t stand staying inside. All the time growing up, me and my brother would have fights. We shared a room, and all he’d want to do was stay home and keep things neat and tidy. And he’d hate it if I spilled a teeny little drop of squirrel blood on our blankets. And so we’d fight, and I think it drove our parents crazy.

“Well, during one of our many battles (which I always won, by the way), my dad broke things up and said to me, ‘Listen, Jimbo. You are 11 years old now. When you are 12, I’m going to give you your very own room. And you’ll be able to keep it as messy as you want. But for now, just get along. All right?’ He said ‘All right?’ sort of like he was asking a question, but it really wasn’t a question. It was a command. So I nodded me head, and for the next few months I couldn’t wait to get my own room and get away from my brother.

“The one peculiar thing was that dad never actually built anything. I kinda figured that he was going to build me a new room, or maybe put a wall up in our room. But he didn’t do a thing. Then, when my birthday came (which also happened to be my brother’s birthday), he came into the bedroom and said, ‘Son, welcome to your new room!’ And I said (with a great deal of respect in me voice, I assure you), ‘What new room, Dad?’ And he said, ‘Follow me.’ Then he led me out side and pointed to the nearby woods. ‘Jimothy, that is your room. The whole outdoors is your room. You can stay out here as much as you want. You can come back to eat from time to time if you’d like, but don’t stay too long, because you just like to cause trouble. And when you enter this house, you need to leave your brother alone. Is that clear?’ Then, without pausing to hear a reply from me, he walked back into the house while muttering, ‘Happy birthday!’

“I suppose that a lot of kids would feel intimidated by being kicked out of their own house at age 12. But in case you haven’t guessed, Herc, I’m not much like a lot of kids. I was thrilled to get out. I grabbed my bow and arrows and a deerskin run and dashed out to the woods. I didn’t even look back. I built a lean-to, killed some squirrels, made some squirrel stew, and just enjoyed breathing fresh air. No more brother to annoy me, no more house rules to follow. I loved it. Oh, I’d come back from time to time to get some of mama’s home cooking, which was a wee bit better than my cooking. But then I’d turn right around and go back to the woods.

“That continued for, oh, maybe eight or nine years or so. I kind of lost track, since I didn’t have my annoying brother to tell me what date it was all the time. But then one day, when I was out hunting for some deermeat, I heard a crashing sound through the woods. That was a bit odd, because nobody lived nearby. I crouched down and listened. Moments later, an arrow whizzed through the air and planted itself in the tree just above my head. I was thoroughly impressed--someone could have killed me, and didn’t! And they were a good shot as well! I pulled the arrow out of the tree, stood up and said, ‘Whoever you are, I salute you! Come show yourself! And take your arrow back!’

“Moments later, some chap with a crooked jaw emerges from a thicket. He doesn’t really introduce himself or anything. He just says, ‘Listen, chap. I’m gathering together an army of black knights. I’ve heard you’re a good warrior and could help us out. Now just looking at you, I’m not too impressed. But I’ll ask anyway--will you join us?’

“Well, I was kind of offended by the fact that he wasn’t impressed. But I enjoyed life too much to let this chump ruin me day. So I said, ‘No thank you sir, I’m fine where I am.’

“The man with the crooked jaw just kind of stared at me. He didn’t move for about a minute; he just stared at me. Then without speaking he raised his hand and made a faint motion. I heard some rustling, and then two other people emerged from behind some trees. One guy was a really mean-looking chap with a patch over his eye and a scar on his cheek.

“The other guy...well, it was my brother. He had a gag in his mouth, and his hands were bound behind him. The guy with the patch held a knife to his throat and glared at me.

“The the man with the crooked jaw said simply, ‘Does this change your mind?’ Well, I had to admit that it did.”