Three days had passed since Grandma had come to Izu, it would have been a joyful affair under normal circumstances, but with Grandpa facing a military tribunal it had been a nightmare and the subject dominated all conversations, ending in tears. Finally, Patxi could take it no longer.

“I’m going home and if Grandpa is not back I’ll go to Oyarzun and look for him!” he boldly announced.

Grandma and Xavier were opposed to the idea since Grandpa had given explicit instructions to remain in the highland pastures until his return.

“I feel Grandpa needs me,” continued Patxi with tears brimming over his youthful cheeks. It was midday and, if he hurried, he could reach the house before dark. Grandma insisted that he take Leon for protection.

As the boy alternately walked and trotted down the steep, and in places rocky path, his feet hardly touched the ground. Luckily he was also wearing the abarcas to protect him from the harsh brush rubbing against his legs. Leon, leading the way, would often wait for his young master to catch up, then sprint on ahead.

Soon they reached the hardwood forest where the going was easier, the boy’s keen eyes ever alert for wild boars. This was the time sows had piglets and thus would be aggressive – he had a leg scar to prove it. Perhaps it was the time of day or just luck that the two did not encounter any. Soon they heard the murmur of the stream and broke into a dead run to reach the house. It was daylight but the sun had already set over the western mountains.

As they raced through the farm gate, Patxi halted as he saw what looked like a crumpled up figure in the doorstep. He raced forward when he heard Leon’s whimpering as the dog began circling and licking the motionless body. By the clothing Patxi knew it was Grandpa. Thoughts raced through his head at the speed of light. Had he been beaten or worse? Was he wounded or, God forbid, dead? Reaching the old man’s side he turned him over and looked at his face. How much older he looked and how gaunt his face.

Caressing his face and gently calling to him over and over the old man woke from his collapsed state and attempted to sit up as he recognized Patxi. Leon kept whining and licking his face and hands as if he understood the seriousness of the situation.

Patxi quickly located the large door key where Grandma had stashed it, opened the door and, with Leon tugging at the overcoat, dragged Grandpa into the kitchen, where he managed to lay him on one of the full-length benches with a seat cover for a pillow. He raced to the well for water, lit the wooden stove after several tries with damp matches and began to boil a kettle. He searched for the coffee tin, all the while keeping an eye on his Grandfather lest he roll off the bench. Leon sat next to the bench with a heavy paw on Grandpa’s leg as if to reassure him that someone was there.

After much searching the boy located the coffee tin that was half empty and added it to the kettle. Soon the smell of coffee pervaded the kitchen; Patxi filtered a large mug and, holding Grandpa’s head up, he urged him to drink, blowing on it to make sure it was not too hot. Slowly, ever so slowly, Grandpa recovered. Smiling feebly, he reached for the boy’s hand and pressed it to his chest. “It hurts here,” he whispered placing the boys hand over his heart, “stroke it gently,” he pleaded. Patxi obliged in spite of his growing fear.

Hours went by with the boy stroking the old man’s chest until finally Grandpa fell asleep, but breathing much easier. The boy found a blanket and covered his beloved Grandfather, then heated some coffee and drank eagerly. He searched for some food to prepare for when his Grandfather would wake up. He and Leon could also use something as he had not eaten since lunch and it was now past midnight. Grandma had hidden all foodstuff well but the boy knew how she thought and, searching by candlelight, found some potatoes, a few chorizos and some hard cheese.

Peeling the potatoes by candlelight through a veil of tears he watched his Grandfather and realized how much the old man meant to him. He was his teacher, his guide, and his idol. As he was musing, Grandpa stirred, Leon whined and dawn broke over the eastern peaks.

“Things will look better now that it’s daylight,” he muttered as if to convince himself. The boiling potatoes and the smell of the wood-smoke filled the kitchen with sound and warmth. Grandpa sat up feebly and smiled at the boy and reached to pet Leon who had been at his side throughout the night.

“Where is Grandma?” the old man asked. “She is at Izu with Xavier, she came the day after you were arrested to tell us,” the boy replied, “she is fine, just terribly worried, and Xavier, too.”

Grandpa nodded, sat up straighter and rubbing his stomach announced that he was hungry, not having eaten in days.

“The cachelos will be ready soon,” laughed Patxi, “and I made plenty for all of us, even for Leon who is licking his chops already.”

The three ate the frugal meal, such as it was, and in the warmth of the kitchen promptly fell asleep as if on cue, getting badly needed rest. Late in the afternoon the noise of some crows chasing away a hawk woke them. Grandpa was able to stand up and walk about the kitchen, bracing himself against the walls. Leon, wagging his bushy tail, followed behind him lest he fall.

Patxi woke with a start when he heard the door of the wood stove close. Fear gripped him for an instant when he saw the empty kitchen bench. . . .