putting up a few words i wrote to start a short story w/..01:34 Nov 20 2006
Times Read: 672
Needs work, but wtf.. lol
The man lay there, as quiet as the stones around him on the small hillock. Below him, nothing moving in the waist-high grass escaped his notice. The grayness of dawn had hardly faded, though the sun was peering through the pines in broad streaks of sunlight. Mist clung to the man as it must to his quarry, hidden from him as it was in the rays of dawn.
He was certain he had seen the dark, sleek, beautiful outline when he’d braced the old field glasses against the sweetgum tree along the western edge of the meadow at the beginning of the morning. In the pre-dawn light and viscous haze, he hadn’t even much of a glimpse, but for that fleeting moment, he was sure. That surety was the only thought in his mind while he circled back to the southwest, backing into the woods and approaching the vantage point on the rocks from the downwind side.
From his point of survey, he could not see the lowest reaches of the swampy glade where he was sure she was feeding amid the last of the lush Indian summers’ final growth spurt. He knew also the bed where she laid to hide from the hunters (as well as the mid-day sun) was in an impenetrable blow-down nearby.
As his eyes scanned the undergrowth below, his mind wandered. An image came to his inner eye of looking at his fathers’ back, grandpas’ old rifle slung high on his shoulder knowing the time would come to carry the honor of his family on his shoulder. Two years later, after shooting his first doe (a tiny animal barely deserving of the title of deer), he sat with his pa and grandpa and got his first taste of moonshine-he coughed and sputtered while the two old men laughed good-naturedly and patted him on the back with firm, broad field workers’ hands.
Ah, the glories of youth! He would have sighed, but his flesh remembered where he was and stayed focused, no longer paying heed to his own mind. Into the thoughts of his youth invaded thoughts of other youth, his children. Only this summer, the eldest had asked him if she could accompany him this fall on his ‘meanderings’.
She was yet only thirteen, and he had promised her that next year she could come, and the year after, she could take the old gun and begin the process of self discovery. But, he admonished her, it wasn’t a matter of days or even weeks, but the training and effort would span months, and many years would pass before she would ever become remotely proficient. Kaitlyn had nodded and said ‘I understand, papa’ and nodded in a serious way.
Kate surprised him, her intense interest in carrying on the family tradition of gaining some food for the winter from the giant forested bayou in the back of the small trailer park only surprised him more than he thought it should. He anticipated that response from her younger brother, but the boy seemed more interested in looking at the leaves on the plants when he went on walks with his father. Perhaps Jason would have a bright future ahead of him if he could get into community college and find someone to help him get into a four year.
He didn’t grudge the boy, though, it was only his nature that led him to examine the shiny rhinoceros beetles that he found walking in the trash piles along the downhill ledge below the dirty collection of manufactured homes. One day, he had discovered Jason peering intently, a board raised off the ground in his right hand. He sauntered up to his boy to see what had that captivated his attention so. Sitting, calmly coiled in front of the boy, was a giant copperhead, the largest he had seen.
Suddenly, his heart was in his throat, he reached down for a large stick. He moved like cane molasses during a particularly harsh winter, painfully slow and deliberate, never taking his eyes off of the snake. Jason spoke softly, but firmly. “Pa, don’t! He ain’t hurting nobody, not doin anything at all. He’s beautiful, and he ain’t gonna to go nowhere.” He felt the realization in his soul. This time, it was wrong to make the kill.
Instead, he smiled softly, telling the exhausting 10-year old “You’re right, Jase; just ain’t the thing to do. But, I want you to leave ‘em alone, ‘cause they can make you sick, or even kill you”. “I’d be hurt, and your momma would have my ass in a basket” he added in softer, conspiratorial tones with a slight lilt of amusement. The boy lowered the little piece of thin plywood over the snake that had only cocked his reddish-orange head to watch the boy’s slow movements.
Jason (the fair-haired one) took after his mother, whose soft curves were probably outlined against the blinds this time of morning. Many days he had woken up, just to see his wife’s outline against the window from his side of the bed, her hair in disarray, her face in a soft smile of sweet dreams. He could almost see her arm moving under the thin covers that they used during the summer to keep the terrible heat at bay. But it was not her arm he saw moving in his mind-his eyes were seeing movement, the kudzu swaying under the light pressure of a hungry jaw, and his mind was being called back to the task at hand before it could wander farther.
The subconscious mind of the man was obligating his faculties to focus on the tasks at hand. All memories or other thoughts were pushed aside, all other ideas of any kind were laid to rest. His hand crept down along his side, feeling the wood fore-end of the well-worn stock with his fingers and slowly pulling the old weapon up towards him, keeping an inch or two of air between the stock and the surface of the granite to keep the noise down to a minimum; there was no room for an error of any kind now.
The tall weeds of the shady dale swayed as the fattening body pressed into them, giving way to the doe that was feeding greedily in their midst. He could not see her, but he knew very well that he would if he were patient enough. He had the time that she did not. That was the advantage of the top of the food chain against the bottom: all consuming time. The rifle was almost even with his face now as he swung it slowly along his body keeping his eyes riveted on the spot in the grass that was moving, but slowly.
Bringing the rifle to his shoulder softly and laying the fore-end of the stock on a clump of weeds gave him a firm post from which to shoot. He could not pull his attention away from the movement below him, his body and mind focused much sharper than most people would experience in their lifetimes. He breathed deep, quiet breaths, holding it each time he let it out halfway, and lining up his sights as perfectly as he could.
An attempt had been made years ago by his father to mount a scope on granddaddy’s gun, but it was generally thought in his family that the ranges they were likely to take the shots in were not long enough for one to be needed. This dim, dark morning, he was very glad the attempt failed; he thought that he would never be able to see the deer wandering through the weeds in the half-light if she happened to come out of the dense brush in one of the many shadowy spots scattered around the hollow.
This particular place was known by almost nobody, and the surrounding edges of forest got hunted pretty hard, he was surprised that he hadn’t seen any human footprints in any of his scouting forays into this place. The blades of grass moved with intent, he knew she was close to coming exposed on the near side of the patch of weeds she was working. Another few steps, and there would be opportunity, probably the only one this season. As the minutes dragged, his focus became sharper.
He could almost smell her on the wind, and feel her silky smooth fur under his fingers. But, time was on his side, as he was well aware. He knew the place to put the sights, a little farther right than where he wanted to shoot, the old gun shot a couple of inches left at about 100 yards. The bullet should go in just behind the front shoulder on a forward step, into the heart-lung and aorta that would make the kill as clean as it could be.
A small note of brown in the symphony of green. It was the flicker, an ear, the man was sure was sending errant fronds of grass, or leaves away from the beautiful sleek face. A black nose slowly appeared above some lips munching heavily on the greenery. Seconds tore by, his eyes focused on the patch of weeds, and the slowly appearing animal. An eye was next, then the beginning of the neck. His pulse quickened, knowing the moment was nigh... to be continued??
D
COMMENTS
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bettydavis2
02:36 Feb 17 2008
i think it cool
GRTR1
04:57 Dec 21 2019
that's really good