We're Gonna Starve To Death

Dear Boo and Bubble,

One of the fun things about The Bridge Project is that, from time to time, family members respond and share tales that I have never heard before.  Frank Bryant, your second cousin twice removed (and one of the great turkey chasers in the previous post), sent me another example of Uncle Dick folklore. 

You had a first cousin thrice removed named Wade Bryant.  Like so many of your kin about whom I’ve written, Wade left this world way too soon.  The son of your great, great, great Uncle Gene and Aunt Harriett, Wade was the one who scared all of us girls to death at The Blues as we came down the path to the river butt naked for a skinny dip. (See January 18 entry entitled “Skinny Dip.”)

When Wade was around 10, he visited Uncle Dick and Aunt Annie Mae at Hamelfields.  One morning, he came down for breakfast to find Dick in the kitchen.

“What’s for breakfast?” Wade inquired with a positive hope for something legendary.

“Wade, I’m sorry to tell you this, but we don’t have a thing in this house for breakfast,” Dick said incredulously.  “Looks like you’re going to have to go out and kill something for us to eat.”

“Uh…..okay….but”

Ignoring Wade’s hesitation, Dick gave him a light-gauge shotgun and sent him out the back door to hunt something down.  Wade walked around Lake Ressielona behind the house, hoping to flush or stalk something edible, but to no avail.  He came back into the kitchen with the dismal news.

Uncle Dick put his hands on Wade’s shoulder and looked him in the eye.  “Son, I’m telling you, if you don’t go back out there and get something, we’re going to starve.”

Wade’s crystal blue eyes grew large at that prospect.  With the weight of the world on his back, he struck out again.  About half-way around the lake the second time, something rustled in the bushes, fluttered and flew up right in front of him.  Wade raised his gun, closed his eyes and fired a blind shot. 

When he dared open his eyes, there lay - mortally wounded at his feet - a Robin Redbreast.  Knowing that his family depended on this catch for their very survival, he picked up the bird and raced back to the house where Uncle Dick had been watching the whole scene from the kitchen window.

“You’ve saved us, Wade!” Dick exuded as he tossled his nephew’s hair.

Wade beamed. 

Nothing would do but Dick plucked the Robin, cleaned it and cooked it in a pan…………and served it to Wade

Then……….. he fixed him some bacon and eggs.