For the rest of the day, we picked up some logs and started shaping them using our machetes. We managed to assemble an improvised pottery wheel, powered by a crank. The mechanism is very straightforward, nothing complicated. It's just some rustic gears carved into wood, some axles, a crank and ropes. Everything is very practical, but functional.
We set everything up close to the creek, making access to the water easier. After everything was ready, it was around noon, so we decided to stop to eat some bread and rest a little.
As I was settling down to sit down, my brother, with his mouth full of bread, blurted out: "Between this bread and a car accident, I think I'd rather have a car accident."
I look at my own bread and say, "Yeah, I'm going to be the driver of this car." Then I issue a challenge, "I doubt you can eat this shit in one bite." He looks at me in disbelief and asks: "All this?" I nod, confirming, as a mischievous smile spreads across my face.
He looks at me with half-closed eyes and asks: "And what do I get out of this, other than possibly choking on this stone we call bread?" I shrug and say, "I don't know, maybe an elf falls from the sky."
Instantly, he stuffs the rest of the bread into his mouth and stands up with his arms open, as if he were ready to welcome the elf. He starts to spin from side to side with his arms still open, asking "Where? Where?" with a mouth full of bread.
"HAHAHA!" I can't hold back laughing when I see such a comical scene. "Cough, cough", I was still chewing, so I ended up choking on laughter. But it's nothing serious. Soon I'm rolling with laughter again, with tears streaming down my face and my stomach hurting from laughing so much.
After a few minutes of rolling around laughing, I finally manage to compose myself. I wipe the tears from my eyes, take one last bite of my bread and swallow. After a bit of small talk to digest lunch, it's time to get back to work.
I point to Mr. Oak's home hill, "Now let's get the clay, it's in that pile over there. See that crushed bush? That's where we're going", I explain to my brother. He just nods and responds with a determined "let's go."
I continue explaining, "The amount of clay we can carry is limited, so here's what we're going to do: we're going to tie some sticks together and create a small platform. Then, we will fill this platform with clay. Let's drag the platform down the hill to the camp. This way, we will be able to carry three times our weight in clay. It's a smart plan, isn't it?"
My brother laughs and jokes, "You're the nerd here, so it must be, right?"
With a deadpan expression, I look at him and respond, "I'm glad you know." Without giving him a chance to retort, I dive into the work of building the platform. He seems to give up on any attempt at conversation, and within minutes we have a sturdy platform made of branches tied together with the ropes my brother had obtained earlier.
"Just follow the trail and we'll get to the clay", I say, and following my own words, we each take one end of the platform and head towards the clay. The trail is slippery, the wet bush makes the walk a little more challenging. After a few slips and stumbles, we finally reached our destination: the clay.
After we drop the platform in some corner, I point to the clay and say, "This shit is going to be our livelihood." As I look at my brother, I see him cross his arms and nod, making a strange expression that I can't decipher. Sometimes it's impossible even for me to decipher it.
"Okay, give me a shovel and let's start digging," I say, extending my arm towards my brother, waiting for him to hand me the tool.
He continues with his arms crossed, keeping that strange expression on his face, and says: "What man?" I look at him, then at the platform lying on the ground, and then look at him again, not believing what I'm hearing.
In fact, he only has a machete strapped to his waist and nothing else. "Ha… haha… ha," I massage my temple, trying to ease the tension, and take a deep breath.
"Let's get the damn shovel," I say. My brother, without losing his good humor, begins to retrace our steps, laughing the entire way.
I couldn't hold back my laughter when he slipped and fell, distracted from laughing so hard. And, ironically, I ended up making the same mistake shortly afterwards, falling too.
After a few laughs, we headed back to the clay, this time armed with shovels and ready to dig. We positioned the platform strategically, very close to the trail. This way, when it's full, we won't need to do any complicated maneuvers, just move on.
After a few minutes of digging, the platform was filled with clay. We began the journey of carrying the equivalent of three times our weight in clay back to camp. Unlike the time we went to get the shovels, this time we didn't fall.
We were focused. After all, losing concentration when you have a load three times heavier than you is pushing you is not smart at all.
Upon arriving at camp, sweat was running down our foreheads. Our bodies, still fragile, felt the weight of the load, but we managed to arrive in one piece. We left the clay-laden platform next to the potter's wheel and sat down to catch our breath.
After resting for two full minutes, I stand up and say, "Come on, let's get started." My brother, following my example, stands up. He approaches the clay, with his arms resting on his sides asking, "What now?"
As I grab a handful of clay and place it on the wheel to begin modeling, I respond, "We're lucky, this clay is ready to use. Now just turn the crank and I can do the magic with my hands." He begins to slowly nod his head in agreement as he says, "Got it."
Remembering one crucial detail, I exclaim, "AH! I will also need water from time to time to make the work easier." As he begins to turn the crank, setting the entire system in motion, he responds, "Okay, you can leave it to me."