Pennsylvania Game News - November 2021 - 42

ripe berries. Uncle Nick had drawn up a
steep quota for the week. As a farmer and
owner of a burgeoning outdoor market, a
few of his vendors and some of his own
customers expected fresh berries, as well
as pies, cobblers and jams.
The pickers were on alert for the buzz
of rattlers and the hum and flash of yellowjacket
wasps in their subterranean
nests. They worked steadily all morning.
Toward noon, Ted whistled sharply. Chip
whistled back, then popped up out of the
briars and worked his way over. They
sat in the shadow of a tall rock outcrop.
Ribbons of heat mirage boiled up from
the patch, the sun like a magnifying lens,
scorching what lay below.
" I'm about picked out, " said Ted wearily,
" and starved. "
" Me, too, " Chip replied. " Uncle Nick
will be back in half an hour with lunch. "
They drank water from their canteens,
then saturated their kerchiefs and wiped
their faces. They soaked the kerchiefs
again and retied them around their necks.
Cicadas droned and a lone vulture sailed
across the field. They leaned back against
the rock, closed their tired eyes and dozed
off, the blurred images behind their eyelids
showing a sea of crisscrossed canes
and glistening berries.
At the sound of the truck's horn, they
hustled up to the field and set their pails
into the bed. " Good work, fellas, " Uncle
Nick said. " Time to eat. "
They returned to the shade of the outcrop
toting a cooler and devoured thick
BLT sandwiches on homemade bread and
iceberg pickle spears, washing it all down
with lemonade.
" Two summers from now, you boys
won't be picking berries, but will probably
be at football practice, " announced
Uncle Nick.
42
Ted.
Their hearts leapt. " Football? " queried
" That's right. I had a meeting at the new
high school construction site this morning.
Turkey Ridge High is going to field its
first football team and the athletic field's
even going to have lights. After merging
Northfield High with Turkey Ridge, there
ought to be about 450 students enrolled.
Your dad's shop is machining the wood
for the bleachers. "
They shared a peach pastry ring, the
muffled groans of dozers from far down
Turkey Ridge fueling their thoughts and
visions.
" What're you lookin' at Uncle Nick? "
Chip asked his uncle, who was squinting
at a big shadowy shape about 40 yards out.
" My word, " Uncle Nick said, " I think
I know what that is. "
Nick jumped to his feet, picked up a
staff and waded into the canes. The boys
followed.
It wasn't until they were closer that
they discerned it was an 8-foot-tall metal
statue of a wild turkey gobbler. It was
pinned to a flat rock base and could
have been some relic remaining from an
ancient culture, cloaked in mystery. Nick
yanked away a handful of vines. " Let's
pull these vines off, Ted. Chip, knock
down the brush all around. "
They worked quickly and soon had the
Iron Gobbler exposed. It stood with its
neck stretched tall, head held at high alert,
looking far down the ridge. It was made
of steel and other pieces of scrap metal
welded together, the " iron " designation
an inclusive term.
" Who made this, Uncle Nick? " asked
Ted. " And why is it way out here? "
" It's the work of a guy named Carl
Lutz. We went to school together. He
moved on years ago, but still owns this
Pennsylvania Game News - November 2021

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