Uncle Thuenberk

Rural area Bustun, Shusits, Bithean Confederacy 443-451 NE

Uncle Thuenberk was the fun uncle that Reken learned more about life from than from his father.

The frequent long visits to his uncle’s farm, The Farm as it were, was the highlight of his youth.

Reken’s father was a harsh man that was gone for work night, day and often weeks or even months. When he was home, he wanted silence. He sat in the dim lit parlour where he would sit quietly frowning in his signature tweed suit, smoking cigars and drinking brandy while staring into an unknown void

Reken was not sure what his father did exactly other than ‘provide security and take care of problems’ that arose in the family business, Dinker Detective Agency. The agency had grown from a simple coach that Grandpa Leddon Dinker had won gambling. Grandpa was mostly indifferent to his grandkids, who held him in awe due to his dominating presence that made all around him bend to his will.

Rocky, Reken’s father, was the second son of six. The first son, Vesser, had died while ‘working’. Reken knew his father had made a big mistake that led to Vesser’s death. Rocky was now the inheritor of the family business but there was a great tension between Leddon and Rocky over whatever happened when Vesser died. Rocky gave his all to his father’s business hoping for a redemption that would never come.

The financial engine of the agency was guarding the coach lines. Oddly, any competitors always had disaster after disaster. Due to the competitions ‘inadequacies’ the Dinker’s worked the eastern seaboard from Shusits in the north to Gleraga in the south. The other three brothers (Himter, Dagaunt and Unsler) operated in respective regions south of Shusits.

The detective part of the agency was really more commercial sabotage, bounty hunting and running out squatters or Sovanni.

Reker had not been told much about this side. He had deduced it over time. Thus he knew his father was a cold-hearted man that had a lot of blood on his hands. Much that was likely innocent.

Uncle Thuenburk was the youngest of the Dinker boys. He was the biggest and treated as the stupidest. Reker knew the latter to be false. Thuenberk’s perceived stupidity was his lack of assertiveness in the grisly aspects of the business. This, in time, would also come to be known as false by Reker.

In truth, Uncle Thuenberk was quite learned, with an interest in all subjects. He loved knowledge with large library being an attestation to this.

His official occupation was overseeing the breeding, raising and training of the horses whom he treated with great reverence. The horses the agency was known for and being a part of their success.

Yet, his uncle was adamantly businesslike about it showing neither pride nor complaint. Reken was never much part of the horsemanship side of things. This often left him feeling a bit put out. He guessed why, horses seemed to not like him and he found them terrifying. He did learn to ride but never sat at ease or had the control of a ‘real’ horseman.

The big uncle also raised pigs. The swine were well cared for, their pork being annually distributed to family and friends. The swine seemed to just be a hobby of sorts but he had much more passion about it than he did for the horses. The horses were his job. The pigs were his passion.

He shared his observations of the pigs with little Ricky. They would stand watching pigs and discussing all aspects of life.

“Horses are what men pretend to be. Pigs are what they really are.” The uncle often said.

He had no wife nor children. Reken never knew why. He did ask once. The big man said nothing and walked away.

That evening, when his uncle was in the dark creosote patinated sauna, Reken guiltily snuck a peek in the locket hanging with his uncle’s clothes outside. He saw two portraits. One side showed a beautiful Xapii woman with dark hair. The other was a boy about Ricky’s age (eleven at that time). Ricky stared in disbelief. It as as if he looked into a mirror. The boy was identical to Ricky himself. Beyond the guilt for snooping he was shaken by the image. Dropping it, still open, he ran off in shame.

After the sauna Thuenberk, having noticed the open locket, came up looking down with a grave expression. Fear and guilt paralyzed the boy as he thought that that never before seen countenance meant unpleasant repercussions. Instead, he lifted Reken, embracing him in the most tender of a bear hug and began sobbing. An eternity passed before he stopped and set Ricky down. Without a word he turned and left. The subject never again surfaced.

What made the uncle so fun was that he played with Ricky. He often played rough, grappling with him, flinging the boy high above his head and chasing him around The Farm. Chess, catch, marksmanship were in daily order. The woodland strolls where his uncle ‘found his peace’ and ‘learned the true things of life’ were other ways to play.

Reken was a rambunctious boy. It was the visceral contact that most endeared him to the big man.

It was not all fun and games. Thuenberk had many chores for Reken. Cleaning stalls, hauling water, pitching hay, bucking, splitting and stacking firewood. Often he worked with the Gensii farmhands who good naturedly would maneuver Reken’s enthusiasm to doing the bulk of their work while they smoked cheroots, diced or napped.

Uncle Thuenberk believed in optimising one’s physical as well as intellectual abilities. The former was attained through the hygiene, rigorous chores, the calisthenics his uncle drilled him on and catching and subduing weaner pigs. The larger pigs, the breeders, were off limits. His uncle warned with all seriousness that they would eat a man in short order and a boy in even shorter order. Occasionally at night the breeders would break out in a squealing and grunting cacophony. His uncle explained that sometimes they needed to be fed at night.

The calisthenics became a habit. These routines were his way of grounding himself.

Hygiene, however, took Reken many years to succumb to. The boy was always caked with dirt, manure and all the interesting substances boys seem to attract. Banning from the house and forcing Reken to sleep in the barn did not have an effect. The boy liked it.

Thus, for several years Ricky kept a ‘bedroom’ in the barn loft with the cats, who kept him warm. Three came to following him about incessantly weaving about his legs with loud meows or riding on his shoulders as he went about his business. As frustrating as this was for his uncle, Reken could tell another side of the man appreciated the boyishness and maybe even the stubbornness.

It was after seeing the pin worms squirming out of his poop while suffering from a bad case of bacon foot that Reken came around. He even learned to enjoy the sauna and cold plunge routine of his uncle.

It was harder for him to admit that he also enjoyed eating at the table and sleeping in his own room without the cats and their fleas.

The latter, intellectual ability, was also a big challenge. Sitting still enough to read was torture. The words would skitter about without meaning as his body squirmed and, if left unchecked, would pull him outside to run free. Numbers did the same thing. Reken knew that he was not as cognitively capable as his uncle. He knew his uncle knew this. His uncle never once made it an issue.

“Keep trying. You will learn your basic reading, writing and arithmetic. Then you can take them as far as you do or don’t want to.” became a mantra.

The uncle’s regiment was never angrily forced. It was done with firm resolutions, calm patience and sincere encouragement. That being said, the rule was that Reken did not eat until his chores were done. With Reken’s big Nander boy appetite, the threat of a missed meal was adequate. He never actually went hungry. The rare times when discipline was needed. Thuenberk would first instigate a grapple session ‘to get the meanness out’. In these he held back a bit less until Reken was exhausted and defeated.

Reken sometimes wondered if it was his or his uncle’s meanness they were getting out. After the session they would have a rational and mature but heartfelt discussion about the offense.

This would be Ricky’s best life until that fateful day.