ALL NOVEL Chapter 38: New & Improved Stretch
I pedaled out of town for about an hour until I spotted a trail branching off the main road that looked suitable for my bike. Stretch slept the whole way, curled up in the trailer, his soft snores blending with the rhythmic click of the bike chain and the occasional chirp of birds. After a few minutes on the trail, we reached a stream, its gentle gurgling adding to the serene atmosphere. I unhooked the bike and tried to wake Stretch, but he wouldn’t budge. I diagnosed him, checking for any signs of distress, but he was fine. I didn’t see any changes; he was as healthy as could be. I identified him again.
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Stretch |
I gave up on waking him, put him in a fireman carry on my shoulder, and crossed the stream. The cold water seeped into my boots, sending a shiver up my spine.
“When you wake up, buddy, you'll owe me for the wet boots.” He didn’t even stir.
I walked over an hour with him on my shoulder, silently thanking God for my elevated Strength stat. Each step was a testament to my endurance. Finally, I reached a clearing in the forest. It was big and far away from any paths, so I opened the big glamping tent; I didn’t know how long it would take, and we might need the space. The scent of pine and earth filled the air as I set up the tent, fighting with it for half an hour before it stood proudly. Stretch’s blankets were ready for him. I cast Clean on him to remove all the leaves and dirt from his fur and put him on his bed. He continued sleeping, dead to the world.
I identified him again – still 99%.
After waiting three hours for something to happen, I decided to keep myself busy and started a fire. We had depleted much of our cooked food supply in the last three weeks, so it was time to refill. I re-cleaned and arranged all the TA boxes, re-cleaned all the pots, and arranged all the tools I would need for cooking. The mundane task was almost meditative.
Still, nothing happened; he was sleeping like a baby and still at 99%.
“Ok, stop driving yourself crazy and cook,” I muttered to myself, trying to shake off the anxiety.
I took out a cooler with the mukar/bison meat, vegetables, oil, and spices. The scent of raw meat mixed with fresh herbs made my mouth water. I arranged everything nicely on the prep table, rearranged some things in a better place, and re-stored the cooler to keep the meat fresh. Just in case, I re-checked that all the boxes, pots, and utensils were still clean. I felt like a mother hen fussing over her chicks.
Still, nothing happened; he was sleeping like a baby and still at 99%.
"Stop that; you're like a mother hen," I scolded myself with a small, nervous laugh.
I began to cook and tried to concentrate only on cooking. The sizzling of meat and the aroma of spices filled the air, providing a minor distraction from my worries. It wasn’t easy, but at some point, when I had three pots going and had to make sure they didn’t overturn into the fire, I even managed to forget my worries for ten minutes. I finished the three pots, moved everything to containers, cleaned the pots, and checked again.
Still sleeping.
Diagnosis – all is well.
Identify – 99%.
I still had containers and decided to cook some of my other stuff. I needed something challenging, so I decided to make a campfire lasagna. It took me a while to grate the tomatoes with a manual grater, and my hands became sticky with juice.
I miss my Magimix.
The tomato sauce also took a while, simmering until it filled the campsite with its rich aroma. It was getting dark, and the forest night sounds began to creep in.
Still no change.
I fried the meat with the onions, the sizzling, a comforting background noise, and cooked the pasta sheets in water.
Still no change.
I took a metal pan and layered the pasta, meat, sauce, and cheese in two layers of each. Now, I had a puzzle. How do I bake it? Hmm. I got an idea. I put the baking pan inside a bigger baking pan, covered it with a smaller baking pan that fit it well and covered it completely, and put another bigger pan on top. Just in case, I wrapped the whole thing with wire so that nothing would move. I moved the coals and burning wood aside to create a cradle for the lasagna and covered it on top and from all sides with coals.
Hmm, how do I measure 40 minutes?
I decided to approximate it. That’s what I was doing anyway with time.
Still no change.
I played my guitar while waiting for the lasagna, the notes mingling with the night sounds. After a while, I could smell it, and it smelled delicious. I waited another five minutes just in case. Now, how do I remove it from the fire? After a few minutes of deliberation, I moved all the coals aside in a wide circle, grabbed the lip of the pan with tongs, and dragged it out. The heat radiated from the pan, warming my face. I put on the work gloves I used to remove pots from the fire, unwrapped the wire, and opened the pans. It looked delicious and smelled even better.
I should put the recipe in the Archive.
Stretch lifted his head and sniffed the air with interest.
“Yes!!” I exclaimed.
I identified him – still 99%
He got up and showed a lot of interest in the lasagna.
“Wait, buddy, it’s hot. You’ll burn your tongue. Let me cool it for you.”
I took a big piece of cardboard and started waving it over the pan to cool it. After five minutes, it was a little cooler. I cut a piece for myself, stored it, and moved the rest to a bigger pan for him. I touched it with a finger, and it was still hot. I cooled it more with the cardboard until it felt cool enough and gave it to him. It was gone in less than a minute.
He pushed the pan toward me. “More food?”
He nodded his head!!
Twice!
I gave him more food and had trouble keeping up with the demand. He inhaled the food and wanted more and more and more. He ate for over an hour straight and finished his average weekly food intake. He licked my face and went back to sleep.
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Stretch |
I sighed, a mixture of relief and lingering worry, and took out my lasagna piece. It was a winner!
It was the middle of the night, so I went to sleep. If he needed me, he would wake me up with the tongue alarm.
When I woke up, the sun was high in the sky. The tent was warm, and morning light was streaming in.
Stretch still slept.
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Stretch |
After two cups of coffee, I was at a loss for what to do. The rich aroma did little to calm my nerves.
I tried reading a book, but the words blurred together.
I tried playing the guitar, but my fingers felt clumsy on the strings.
I rearranged some things in my storage and filled some emptied boxes, the sound of clinking metal oddly comforting.
I removed some of the damaged weapons and started to restore them. The amounts of mana required varied—some needed 100-200 mana, and some needed 500 or more. I spent 2,000 mana, ate a late lunch, and regenerated to full.
Still no change.
I ate dinner and went to sleep, the forest quiet around me.
In the morning, after coffee.
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Stretch |
“Come on! Seriously?” I groaned in frustration.
After breakfast, I spent 4000 mana restoring weapons. That was a cool spell. I ate lunch and sat to regenerate on a camping lounge chair with a book. The sun was warm, and the pages rustled gently in the breeze.
I woke again with the sun high in the sky, still in the lounge chair. The warmth had lulled me into another nap.
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Stretch |
After coffee and breakfast, I arranged some more things in my Storage. Suddenly, I felt the mana in the air stir. It felt like a vortex of mana. I walked over to Stretch, touched him, closed my eyes, and concentrated on sensing the mana around and inside him. Something was happening, but it was unclear what. His body had a lot of mana action going on, but I couldn’t discern what was happening. So, I just sat there with my eyes closed, sensing and following the motion of the mana.
I’m unsure how much time passed, but I felt the mana subsiding and opened my eyes. It was dark. Wow, I was so absorbed that I didn’t notice that I had sat there all day. I was also starving.
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Stretch |
Yes! But he was still sleeping.
I ate dinner, put my sleeping bag beside him, hugged him, and slept.
The tongue alarm woke me up. When I opened my eyes, a big dog head was in front of me.
“Wow, Stretch, you got bigger!”
I stood up and checked. He had grown taller by about 10 centimeters, his body filled out, and his fur turned more unified silver-gray. His eyes were brown before, but now they were ice blue, like a husky but bigger. I could also sense that he had mana; he exuded it.
I patted him and said, “Welcome back; you slept for over four days.” Suddenly, he bit my arm hard, drew blood, and licked it.
“Oww, what are you doing? I thought we were friends. I didn’t expect…” I trailed off as I felt something connect in my mind, and I felt an apology and a strong wave of adoration and gratitude.
“Oh my god, Stretch, was that you?”
He nodded, and I also got a mental confirmation.
“You are amazing!” I hugged him, petted him, and scratched his ears like he loves.
“Why did you bite me?”
I got a mental taste of blood, coppery and salty, and a feeling of connection. I never knew you could taste something in your mind.
“You needed my blood to connect?”
He nodded and agreed mentally.
“You are the most amazing dog in all the worlds that exist.”
I got a feeling of smugness. Then I got a taste of beer and happiness.
“You’re asking for a beer to celebrate?”
He nodded vigorously, and I got the most vigorous agreement so far.
I laughed out loud, “You are ridiculous!”
He wagged his tail and sent happiness and love.
“Yeah, I love you too, but let me get coffee first. I can’t drink beer first thing in the morning.”
I got a strong disagreement.
“You can disagree as much as you like. I still need coffee first. And then we will celebrate with a beer.”
He nodded and agreed.
“You’re not hungry?”
He shook his head no, and I felt a negative.
“You don’t need to nod or shake your head; the feeling I get from you is enough. Also, some people might react badly.”
He agreed with me without nodding—smart awakened dog.
After coffee, we had a beer together, and Stretch was very happy. I got from him how much he loved beer. Our connection was stronger than ever, a bond forged in mana and blood.