Fraser's gold mine escapade challenge
Mar. 23rd, 2004 12:29 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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ds_flashfictionThis just kind of tumbled out, slightly over the limit. just my editing which means there are probably still mistakes within...
Because I’m relatively convinced that Benton Fraser would have a different perspective than most of us about what would be something that no one could forgive-- even as a child. My version of the “gold mine” is based on what I saw of old mining operations in either Alaska or northwestern Canada on a trip I took through the area a few years ago.
Tracks
The bedroom was lit only by the low glow of the fire in the fireplace across the room. On the bed, Ray was on his side, one arm propped on an elbow, head cradled in the palm of his hand; the other hand was lightly caressing Benton’s arm and chest. Benton was lying on his back, his head turned toward Ray.
“So, now that I’ve seen the Mountie mask completely disappear,” this was accompanied by a leer and a wiggle of his eyebrows, “Tell me about a time when you weren’t Mountie perfect. And I don’t mean the Vicky-chick thing, either. I’ve told you about some of my exploits,” that word getting a pointed emphasis, “as a kid. Tell me something you did that tells me you weren’t a Mountie-perfect kid.”
“’A Mountie-perfect kid?’” Benton repeated. “Now Ray. You have shared with me some of your childhood exploits – things you seem far too proud of given that you were deliberately setting out to engage in behavior you knew would be upsetting to your parents.”
“Well, yeah, Ben, every kid’s done something that you know you shouldn’t do but you did it to prove something, or make a statement, or just shake the dust loose.”
“Children need to shake the dust loose?” Benton’s eyebrow rose as this description. “That seems… that just seems wrong, Ray.”
“Oh come on, share. Tell me one thing you did as a kid that wasn’t expected, that was wild, that wasn’t perfect. It doesn’t have to be something you’re proud of. Just something. Come on. Let me in.”
Benton began to realize this wasn’t so much about Ray wanting to know about a time when Benton had shaken the dust loose, as it were; it was more about Benton letting Ray into his life. While there certainly was a time when Benton would have gracefully – or even gracelessly – retreated from such a request, that was no longer true. Benton wanted to open up to Ray the way Ray had almost always been so open to him.
“Hmm. I could tell you about time I ran away from home.”
Ray’s eyes widened in mock surprise. “You, Benton Fraser, ran away from home? What, Santa didn’t bring you moose slippers?”
Benton smiled at Ray’s reply. A thumb rubbed against his eyebrow as he began, “Well, really, the impetus of the whole situation was something totally beyond my control, but I was responsible for, well, the destruction of the local gold mine.”
“Now, that I can see. You destroying a gold mine. Probably all in the name of maintaining the right, too, I’ll bet. Yep, someone with your tendency for trouble had to start early.”
“Ray. Do you wish to listen to my story, or do you wish to continue to engage in a manner which reinforces my reluctance to tell you anything of a personal nature?” While the words and tone may have seemed to convey annoyance, the smile that accompanied the request earned a smile from Ray in return.
“Story away, Ben, story away.”
“As you know, my grandparents gifted me with books during my childhood. Most of these books were books related to philosophy and such – quite seditious reading when one considers it. But not always. Every once in a while the book would be more child-oriented. When I was about sixteen I received a book on various aboriginal sports and games. The book provided an interesting history of the boomerang, a description of the science related to it, as well as directions for how to construct one. I decided to make one. The story of the boomerang is very intriguing, Ray, as is the science,”
“Benton. I didn’t ask for the boomerang’s history. I asked for yours. You can tell me about boomerangs on our next stakeout.”
“Quite right, Ray. So I made my own boomerang. I had taken it to the gold mine to test it out. It worked quite well, I must say. It had a marvelous range and returned with accuracy and speed.”
“Wait a minute. Gold mines – aren’t they down in the ground – you go down into mines with shafts and dark and stuff?” Ray looked confused.
“Well, I shall have to take you to some of the mining areas in Alaska and the Territories. Locally, it was called the gold mine. It’s actually the east end of the lake, near where the stream feeds into it. You’ve seen some of the equipment left by the old mining company. This was a gold mine that was created as the equipment mined out the banks of the lake and the creek.”
“Ah, so Canadian for gold mine is bank. I get it.” Ray smirked.
“May I continue?” Benton asked, his tone haughty. Ray nodded, holding back a laugh but not able to hold back the grin.
Benton continued his story. “It was against the rules to be in the mine. It was abandoned and was considered out-of-bounds. Not just for me, but for all the village children. I had always thought it was a safety issue – unstable ground, littered with all sorts of mechanical detritus, etc. But it was one of the largest areas where you could throw a boomerang and not hit a tree, a house, or another person. So I was breaking the rules to be playing in the mine. Of course, as a teenager, I was certain that the safety concerns adults might have for a child were inconsequential to me.
So, I was learning the heft of the boomerang, how to control its distance, its spin, when I saw something untoward.”
“Untoward. Is that like backward, not toward…?” Ray interjected with a smile.
“When I saw something untoward,” Benton repeated, as if he had never been interrupted. “There were men entering the old operations shack. Since the mine and the work there had been closed for years, I knew that they were likely there for unlawful reasons. I found out later, after all this had happened, that the reason the mine was out-of-bounds for children was because drug runners used it. The locals knew about it, but the RCMP had never been able to catch anyone. In a youthful urge to be a hero and given my seemingly newfound abilities with the boomerang, I decided to stop these drug runners. I saw one come outside and pick something up off the ground. I sent the boomerang whipping through the air. The miscreant, most likely, had a lit cigarette or cigar and he was picking up a gas can. The boomerang hit him; he dropped the lit object into the gas can. The can exploded, and set off the drug lab that was set up in the deserted shack. Suddenly, the whole area was ablaze.
Not expecting that my little game would end so, well, explosively, I ran. I didn’t really think, I didn’t really consider my actions. I just ran. I took off into the woods. I was cowardly. I didn’t check on the state of the man who I hit. I didn’t wait to ascertain the explosion didn’t detonate additional blasts. I. Just. Ran.”
At this point, Benton turned his face away from Ray. Ray’s hands had stilled during the telling, but Ray quickly moved his free hand to under Benton’s chin. “Hey. I love you. Nothing you did as a kid’s going to change that. Even if you blew up an entire Inuit village. Even if you blew up your grandparents. Hell, if you tell me you helped to blow up Toronto, I’d give you back the medal you gave me.” While Ray’s words grew more silly, his gaze remained serious. “I love you, no matter. It’s been put in the done box and ain’t going to be revisited by me.”
Benton finally met Ray’s eyes again. “I’ve always believed you in my head when you said it. I’m so grateful that we’ve had the time together that I can also feel it in my heart. Thank you.” The words were said so softly it was almost like a dream.
“So, you’ve set a gold mine on fire and took off for parts unknown. You unknowingly brought to an end an illegal drug lab and probably helped capture wanted felons. So, rather than be happy, you head for the hills. Humph.”
“Well, I didn’t run far. With all my luck, this was a period of time that my father was actually visiting for more than 24 hours. Once my grandparents and he figured out that I was missing but wasn’t hurt by the blast, they pieced together the day’s events. My father tracked me, catching up with me by the time I had made my night camp.”
“Reamed you good, did he?”
Benton looked at Ray with a slight smile. “Actually, quite the opposite. He told me that he knew that I had been in the gold mine, which he knew I knew was out of bounds. He knew that somehow I was responsible for the explosion. He told me I could keep running should I so choose. If so, he would provide me with some money and food to ease my trip. If I kept running, he warned, I’d probably continue to feel ashamed. I could, however, own up to my misbehavior, and face the consequences. Of course, he didn’t bother to let me know that I was due for a reward for helping to capture the criminals. He didn’t bother to suggest that, for all my misbehavior, I was essentially a hero.”
“Figures,” mumbled Ray.
“So I followed him back to the village. The two men had been injured, but surprisingly, their injuries and burns were relatively light. The lab was destroyed, but not so completely that the RCMP couldn’t piece together sufficient evidence to ensure the two men would be brought to justice. They were also able to piece together enough clues and evidence to follow up on approximately another ten criminals. I ended up with a commendation from the RCMP and having to go to bed directly after dinner for a week as punishment from my grandparents. It was, upon reflection, quite bizarre.”
“Rewarded by the Mounties and punished by your grandparents. Huh. And later on, you’re punished by the Mounties, but get me as a reward.” Ray leered again, seeming to realize that Benton needed to be reassured with his gentle teasing.
At this, Benton moved onto Ray, rolling the slighter man onto his back. “Mmmmhmmm. And how thankful I am for this reward,” replied Benton. “Perhaps my reward for living what you call the perfect Mountie life is such a perfect reward. But you must understand. Should you run away, I’ll track you as my father did me. I won’t let you run away from me. I love you, Ray.”
“Track away, Ben, track away.”
Because I’m relatively convinced that Benton Fraser would have a different perspective than most of us about what would be something that no one could forgive-- even as a child. My version of the “gold mine” is based on what I saw of old mining operations in either Alaska or northwestern Canada on a trip I took through the area a few years ago.
Tracks
The bedroom was lit only by the low glow of the fire in the fireplace across the room. On the bed, Ray was on his side, one arm propped on an elbow, head cradled in the palm of his hand; the other hand was lightly caressing Benton’s arm and chest. Benton was lying on his back, his head turned toward Ray.
“So, now that I’ve seen the Mountie mask completely disappear,” this was accompanied by a leer and a wiggle of his eyebrows, “Tell me about a time when you weren’t Mountie perfect. And I don’t mean the Vicky-chick thing, either. I’ve told you about some of my exploits,” that word getting a pointed emphasis, “as a kid. Tell me something you did that tells me you weren’t a Mountie-perfect kid.”
“’A Mountie-perfect kid?’” Benton repeated. “Now Ray. You have shared with me some of your childhood exploits – things you seem far too proud of given that you were deliberately setting out to engage in behavior you knew would be upsetting to your parents.”
“Well, yeah, Ben, every kid’s done something that you know you shouldn’t do but you did it to prove something, or make a statement, or just shake the dust loose.”
“Children need to shake the dust loose?” Benton’s eyebrow rose as this description. “That seems… that just seems wrong, Ray.”
“Oh come on, share. Tell me one thing you did as a kid that wasn’t expected, that was wild, that wasn’t perfect. It doesn’t have to be something you’re proud of. Just something. Come on. Let me in.”
Benton began to realize this wasn’t so much about Ray wanting to know about a time when Benton had shaken the dust loose, as it were; it was more about Benton letting Ray into his life. While there certainly was a time when Benton would have gracefully – or even gracelessly – retreated from such a request, that was no longer true. Benton wanted to open up to Ray the way Ray had almost always been so open to him.
“Hmm. I could tell you about time I ran away from home.”
Ray’s eyes widened in mock surprise. “You, Benton Fraser, ran away from home? What, Santa didn’t bring you moose slippers?”
Benton smiled at Ray’s reply. A thumb rubbed against his eyebrow as he began, “Well, really, the impetus of the whole situation was something totally beyond my control, but I was responsible for, well, the destruction of the local gold mine.”
“Now, that I can see. You destroying a gold mine. Probably all in the name of maintaining the right, too, I’ll bet. Yep, someone with your tendency for trouble had to start early.”
“Ray. Do you wish to listen to my story, or do you wish to continue to engage in a manner which reinforces my reluctance to tell you anything of a personal nature?” While the words and tone may have seemed to convey annoyance, the smile that accompanied the request earned a smile from Ray in return.
“Story away, Ben, story away.”
“As you know, my grandparents gifted me with books during my childhood. Most of these books were books related to philosophy and such – quite seditious reading when one considers it. But not always. Every once in a while the book would be more child-oriented. When I was about sixteen I received a book on various aboriginal sports and games. The book provided an interesting history of the boomerang, a description of the science related to it, as well as directions for how to construct one. I decided to make one. The story of the boomerang is very intriguing, Ray, as is the science,”
“Benton. I didn’t ask for the boomerang’s history. I asked for yours. You can tell me about boomerangs on our next stakeout.”
“Quite right, Ray. So I made my own boomerang. I had taken it to the gold mine to test it out. It worked quite well, I must say. It had a marvelous range and returned with accuracy and speed.”
“Wait a minute. Gold mines – aren’t they down in the ground – you go down into mines with shafts and dark and stuff?” Ray looked confused.
“Well, I shall have to take you to some of the mining areas in Alaska and the Territories. Locally, it was called the gold mine. It’s actually the east end of the lake, near where the stream feeds into it. You’ve seen some of the equipment left by the old mining company. This was a gold mine that was created as the equipment mined out the banks of the lake and the creek.”
“Ah, so Canadian for gold mine is bank. I get it.” Ray smirked.
“May I continue?” Benton asked, his tone haughty. Ray nodded, holding back a laugh but not able to hold back the grin.
Benton continued his story. “It was against the rules to be in the mine. It was abandoned and was considered out-of-bounds. Not just for me, but for all the village children. I had always thought it was a safety issue – unstable ground, littered with all sorts of mechanical detritus, etc. But it was one of the largest areas where you could throw a boomerang and not hit a tree, a house, or another person. So I was breaking the rules to be playing in the mine. Of course, as a teenager, I was certain that the safety concerns adults might have for a child were inconsequential to me.
So, I was learning the heft of the boomerang, how to control its distance, its spin, when I saw something untoward.”
“Untoward. Is that like backward, not toward…?” Ray interjected with a smile.
“When I saw something untoward,” Benton repeated, as if he had never been interrupted. “There were men entering the old operations shack. Since the mine and the work there had been closed for years, I knew that they were likely there for unlawful reasons. I found out later, after all this had happened, that the reason the mine was out-of-bounds for children was because drug runners used it. The locals knew about it, but the RCMP had never been able to catch anyone. In a youthful urge to be a hero and given my seemingly newfound abilities with the boomerang, I decided to stop these drug runners. I saw one come outside and pick something up off the ground. I sent the boomerang whipping through the air. The miscreant, most likely, had a lit cigarette or cigar and he was picking up a gas can. The boomerang hit him; he dropped the lit object into the gas can. The can exploded, and set off the drug lab that was set up in the deserted shack. Suddenly, the whole area was ablaze.
Not expecting that my little game would end so, well, explosively, I ran. I didn’t really think, I didn’t really consider my actions. I just ran. I took off into the woods. I was cowardly. I didn’t check on the state of the man who I hit. I didn’t wait to ascertain the explosion didn’t detonate additional blasts. I. Just. Ran.”
At this point, Benton turned his face away from Ray. Ray’s hands had stilled during the telling, but Ray quickly moved his free hand to under Benton’s chin. “Hey. I love you. Nothing you did as a kid’s going to change that. Even if you blew up an entire Inuit village. Even if you blew up your grandparents. Hell, if you tell me you helped to blow up Toronto, I’d give you back the medal you gave me.” While Ray’s words grew more silly, his gaze remained serious. “I love you, no matter. It’s been put in the done box and ain’t going to be revisited by me.”
Benton finally met Ray’s eyes again. “I’ve always believed you in my head when you said it. I’m so grateful that we’ve had the time together that I can also feel it in my heart. Thank you.” The words were said so softly it was almost like a dream.
“So, you’ve set a gold mine on fire and took off for parts unknown. You unknowingly brought to an end an illegal drug lab and probably helped capture wanted felons. So, rather than be happy, you head for the hills. Humph.”
“Well, I didn’t run far. With all my luck, this was a period of time that my father was actually visiting for more than 24 hours. Once my grandparents and he figured out that I was missing but wasn’t hurt by the blast, they pieced together the day’s events. My father tracked me, catching up with me by the time I had made my night camp.”
“Reamed you good, did he?”
Benton looked at Ray with a slight smile. “Actually, quite the opposite. He told me that he knew that I had been in the gold mine, which he knew I knew was out of bounds. He knew that somehow I was responsible for the explosion. He told me I could keep running should I so choose. If so, he would provide me with some money and food to ease my trip. If I kept running, he warned, I’d probably continue to feel ashamed. I could, however, own up to my misbehavior, and face the consequences. Of course, he didn’t bother to let me know that I was due for a reward for helping to capture the criminals. He didn’t bother to suggest that, for all my misbehavior, I was essentially a hero.”
“Figures,” mumbled Ray.
“So I followed him back to the village. The two men had been injured, but surprisingly, their injuries and burns were relatively light. The lab was destroyed, but not so completely that the RCMP couldn’t piece together sufficient evidence to ensure the two men would be brought to justice. They were also able to piece together enough clues and evidence to follow up on approximately another ten criminals. I ended up with a commendation from the RCMP and having to go to bed directly after dinner for a week as punishment from my grandparents. It was, upon reflection, quite bizarre.”
“Rewarded by the Mounties and punished by your grandparents. Huh. And later on, you’re punished by the Mounties, but get me as a reward.” Ray leered again, seeming to realize that Benton needed to be reassured with his gentle teasing.
At this, Benton moved onto Ray, rolling the slighter man onto his back. “Mmmmhmmm. And how thankful I am for this reward,” replied Benton. “Perhaps my reward for living what you call the perfect Mountie life is such a perfect reward. But you must understand. Should you run away, I’ll track you as my father did me. I won’t let you run away from me. I love you, Ray.”
“Track away, Ben, track away.”
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no subject
Date: 2004-03-23 06:51 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-03-23 06:06 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-03-23 08:14 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-03-23 06:07 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-03-23 08:15 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-03-23 06:09 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-03-23 08:57 am (UTC)And how thankful I am for this reward,” replied Benton. “Perhaps my reward for living what you call the perfect Mountie life is such a perfect reward. But you must understand. Should you run away, I’ll track you as my father did me. I won’t let you run away from me.
Wow. Just perfect. Thank you so much for this!
no subject
Date: 2004-03-23 06:11 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-03-23 06:16 pm (UTC)absolutely :-) can't you just see him doing something he knew was wrong, and still coming out the hero to all but his family? i can almost hear his grandmother now... I don't care that the prime minister wants to call to personally thank you -- you've been sent to your room young man and you won't come out even for a phone call from the Queen...
thanks so much for your comments!