{"id":4649,"date":"2021-06-09T15:00:00","date_gmt":"2021-06-09T15:00:00","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/buber.net\/Basque\/?p=4649"},"modified":"2021-06-05T14:47:32","modified_gmt":"2021-06-05T14:47:32","slug":"the-adventures-of-maite-and-kepa-part-55","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/buber.net\/Basque\/2021\/06\/09\/the-adventures-of-maite-and-kepa-part-55\/","title":{"rendered":"The Adventures of Maite and Kepa: Part 55"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

Kepa found himself sitting at a long table covered in a bright red table cloth. Spread out in front of him were plates of cooked steak, fried potatoes, and salad. Large bowls were filled to the brim with beans and bread. Carafes of wine were spaced evenly down the length of the table. An older man sat across from him, his gnarled hands picking up one of the carafes. His knuckles were swollen and his fingernails misshapen, some of them almost capping the tips of his fingers. The old man smiled at Kepa as he poured him some wine before filling his own glass.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"\"
Buber’s Basque Story is a weekly serial. While it is a work of fiction, it has elements from both my own experiences and stories I’ve heard from various people. The characters, while in some cases inspired by real people, aren’t directly modeled on anyone in particular. I expect there will be inconsistencies and factual errors. I don’t know where it is going, and I’ll probably forget where it’s been. Why am I doing this? To give me an excuse and a deadline for some creative writing and because I thought people might enjoy it. Gozatu!<\/em><\/figcaption><\/figure><\/div>\n\n\n\n

\u201cJust arrived? Couldn\u2019t wait for dinner?\u201d the old man asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Kepa nodded. \u201cYes, only this morning.\u201d He took a deep breath, inhaling the aromas surrounding him. \u201cIt smells wonderful.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The old man chuckled. \u201cThey do a good job here. Almost like ama did back in the baserri.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

A young woman came out of the kitchen, carrying plates. She was dressed in a white blouse and a red skirt that fell past her knees. She set one down in front of the old man while playfully smacking the back of his hand. \u201cYou just couldn\u2019t wait, could you?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The old man smiled. \u201cWait for what? Your answer to my proposal?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The young woman just laughed. \u201cYou know the answer to that, Juan Jose.\u201d She turned to Kepa. \u201cOngi etorri to the Noriega. My name is Elena. And you are\u2026?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cKepa. I just got here this morning.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cDon\u2019t let this old man fill your head with any nonsense. I think he must have gone a little txoriburu, spending so much time in the mountains.\u201d She placed a plate and bowl in front of Kepa. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cIf I\u2019m crazy, it\u2019s with love for you,\u201d said the old man with a wink.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cOy!\u201d exclaimed Elena. \u201cI\u2019m going to have to send the new girl out next time. I shouldn\u2019t keep all of this to myself!\u201d She disappeared into the kitchen as more people wandered into the dining hall and sat at the tables.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cSo,\u201d said the old man as he filled his bowl with beans. \u201cWhen do you head out?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhat do you mean? I just got here,\u201d replied Kepa through spoonfuls of beans.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cTo the hills,\u201d replied Juan Jose. \u201cWhen do you go out with your first flock?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Kepa shrugged. \u201cIn the next couple of days, I guess. I haven\u2019t met my boss yet. I think that\u2019s supposed to happen tomorrow.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWell, I wish you the best of luck. Try to stay sane up there.\u201d A dark look passed over the man\u2019s face. \u201cI\u2019ve known too many that couldn\u2019t take it.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Kepa nodded. \u201cI know. There was one, an Amerikatarrak, in the baserri next to us. He had spent a few years here. When he came back, he just couldn\u2019t handle it. He kept to himself in the baserri, never went down to town. One day, they found him. He killed himself with a shotgun.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI\u2019m sorry to hear that. Too many get sheeped, go crazy in the head. It\u2019s a hard life. You need to take care up there.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI will. Thanks.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

As more joined them, the conversation shifted to the upcoming dance and pilota competition. Kepa was glad for the change of topic. As the women shuffled back and forth from the kitchen, he could have sworn he caught a glimpse of Maite, but if she were amongst them, she didn\u2019t come by to say hello.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

As the meal wrapped up, some of the men headed to the bar. \u201cYou up for a game of mus?\u201d asked Juan Jose. \u201cWe have an open seat.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Kepa shook his head. \u201cNot tonight, thanks. I\u2019m pretty tired from the train ride.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Juan Jose nodded. \u201cNext time.\u201d He turned to another man who was just getting up. \u201cGeraldo, come on.\u201d The other man sighed as he followed Juan Jose into the bar.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Kepa found himself sitting at a long table covered in a bright red table cloth. Spread out in front of him were plates of cooked steak, fried potatoes, and salad. Large bowls were filled to the brim with beans and bread. Carafes of wine were spaced evenly down the length of the table. An older […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":4410,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"advanced_seo_description":"","jetpack_seo_html_title":"","jetpack_seo_noindex":false,"ngg_post_thumbnail":0,"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":true,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","default_image_id":0,"font":"","enabled":false},"version":2}},"categories":[2640,864],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-4649","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-adventures-of-maite-and-kepa","category-bubers-basque-story"],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"https:\/\/buber.net\/Basque\/wp-content\/uploads\/2021\/03\/maite-and-kepa-v2-01.png","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_likes_enabled":true,"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p2sYNu-1cZ","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/buber.net\/Basque\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/4649","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/buber.net\/Basque\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/buber.net\/Basque\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/buber.net\/Basque\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/buber.net\/Basque\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=4649"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/buber.net\/Basque\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/4649\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":4650,"href":"https:\/\/buber.net\/Basque\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/4649\/revisions\/4650"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/buber.net\/Basque\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/4410"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/buber.net\/Basque\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=4649"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/buber.net\/Basque\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=4649"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/buber.net\/Basque\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=4649"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}