I never was

An early riser,

But deer camp has that

Effect on folks.

There’s a buzz in the air …

a strange

frequency

that vibrates between gestures, glances, and ‘good mornings,’

passing unseen

on invisible wires that leave you … wired.

Even before coffee.

Days getting ready for work,

school,

even Christmas

don’t begin this way.

There’s something primal and programmed in readying for

the hunt.

It’s a combined allure of

adventure,

camaraderie,

and ‘the kill.’

And coffee.

Exiting the den, you’re in the mezzanine.

It’s not a proper mezzanine—just

a tiny room.

But it’s set an inch-and-a-half above the main entrance,

and four inches below the kitchen

so

we call it the mezzanine.

In the mezzanine is the beer fridge,

a taxidermied Trout from the 1960s,

and a small white table.

Oh, and dad's gun safe.

Uncle Bill’s percolator sits on the table and perks away,

its gentle

splashing

and rich roasty aroma

greeting you as you

pass

toward the kitchen.

Through the kitchen and there’s two more coffee makers brewing

away—drip machines

belonging to Uncle Lars and dad,

left and right

on the coral formica-and-stainless steel counter,

respectively.

You need a lot of coffee to fill seven thermoses.

Er,

I guess it’s only five now.

Still.

I cast a salty glance at the second machine.

A simple permission would have suited me, but

that was probably more my morning brain

talking

than any true sincerity.

Dad wouldn’t have minded one bit lending his dripper.

Uncle Bill entered the kitchen through the living room archway to refill his cup.

He’d been up since five a.m. watching the farm report.

“Curtis will be up this afternoon,”

he said as poured his warmup.

Curtis was Dad’s best friend from Livonia,

since high school or

junior high or

maybe earlier.

“Is he bringing Lukas?”

I asked.

Lukas is Curtis’ nephew.

Curtis has two young daughters who decline any interest toward outdoor sports, so bringing Lukas is a cherished value.

Plus,

Curtis is the closest thing to a father Lukas has ever known.

He’s a half-orphan

like me

I guess.