Unaccompanied Minor

It’s hard to believe that so many years have passed since my son Jameson flew alone to northern Alberta. He had just turned twelve. For his birthday, he’d unwrapped a plane ticket for a ten-day trip to his Uncle Eric’s hunt camp in the Alberta wilderness and an Austin Powers: International Man of Mystery video.

He played his new movie continuously, and it didn’t take long for him to master all of Mike Myers’ characters. His favourite was Austin, the swinging sixties British secret agent known for his bad teeth. “Yeah Baby, Yeah.”

His trip gear was stockpiled in the corner of his room – sleeping bag, rubber boots, camouflage rain suit, headlamp, spy glasses and three sets of Austin Powers false teeth – all in anticipation of his big adventure the following Saturday.

When we arrived at the airport, I looked Jameson in the eye and said, “Watch out for bears; brush your teeth and stay with the stewardess until Uncle Eric picks you up.” At the gate, I hung an “UNACCOMPANIED MINOR” sign around his neck, squeezed his skinny body and kissed him goodbye. As the stewardess led him away, he turned and flashed me one last smile. Somewhere between the gate and the ramp, he’d put on his spy glasses and slipped in his Austin Powers false teeth.

Ten days later, I anxiously returned to the airport to pick him up.

His flight had landed ten minutes early but no one at the airline desk had a clue where he was. After a few frantic phone calls, the woman behind the desk hesitated and then blurted out, “He got off the plane alone!” The search began.

I checked the obvious places – the bathrooms and Tim Hortons. I began to panic until I ran past the video arcade and heard Miss Moneypenny’s voice outlining James Bond’s next mission. I stopped dead in my tracks. Golden Eye 007!!!

Jameson was so intent on shooting his “Moonraker Laser,” he didn’t see me coming. A surprised dirty face looked up at me, “Hey Mom,” he smiled.

Eric called minutes later. “Did the boy make it home OK? He’ll have some stories to tell you,” he said. “I told him we were eating porcupine stew, moose nostrils and bear bollocks. He didn’t even bat an eye… He told me international spies were used to that sort of thing… I’ll miss him… ”

As we drove home, Jameson unravelled the tale of his first mission away. He’d stood eye-to-eye with a timber wolf, driven an ATV and learned to shoot a .22. He told me about the roof he’d seen shingled in two colours with the message, “What Would Jesus Do.” A dead dog lay on the front lawn. He told me it was light until ten at night, and that the beavers were “ginormous – gargantuan, actually”.

I glanced over at him and for a split second he seemed older, maybe even wiser.

“Oh yeah, and just for the record, Uncle Eric eats totally weird things.”

I thought I knew what was coming next.

He continued, “Who eats stuff like that…? Honestly … orange juice with EXTRA PULP and HOMO milk.” He screwed up his face, looked out the car window, put on his spy glasses and shoved in his Austin Powers false teeth. “Yeah Baby, Yeah.”

Porcupine Stew
(a.k.a. Sweet Potato Stew)

2 lb. stewing meat
1/4 cup flour
1 1/2 tbsp. Montreal steak spice
2 tbsp. olive oil
1 cup BBQ sauce
1/4 cup ketchup
1/4 cup Worcestershire sauce
1 tsp. dry mustard
2 cans consommé
1/2 can Guinness
juice of 1/2 lemon
1 cup water
3 cloves garlic, chopped
2 large onions, chopped
2 cup mushrooms, finely chopped
2 stalks celery, chopped
2 carrots, chopped
1 medium sweet potato, chopped

• Sprinkle stewing beef pieces with Montreal steak spice and flour.
• Heat oil in a flameproof casserole and brown the meat.
• Add remaining ingredients.
• Cook on low heat for 8 hours.