deepundergroundpoetry.com
The Hunter
He wanted desperately to take her out into the cold wilderness for the hunt. Heading up the trail at the break of day, the trees flickering in the soft orange warm glow of dawns light meandering through the whitetail woods. Tracking and hunting deer in the mountains. Climbing through dense leafless trees. The ground softly covered in the carpet of leaves ensuring their footsteps remain unheard. Staying down wind, barely exhaling so that not even the mist of of their breath hanging in the cold air would give them away. Teaching her the importance of tracking and the thrill of the hunt itself. He paced back and forth, his animated excited enthusiasm making her believe it would be a great adventure. She had sat, listening to his speech for quite some time, and finally agreed half heartedly not knowing if she could shoot anything, or see someone else shoot such beautiful defenseless creatures.
They rose early. Layering their clothing against the cold in case it were to warm up during the mid day so they could easily peel away anything unwanted. Heading out of the cabin, they made their way along a road. Walking size by side, not saying a word, the only sound the drumming of their feet echoing into the darkness. He was not a morning person and liked to keep his thoughts to himself. She was sure to not say a word as they made their way. They entered the woods just as the sun unhinged itself illuminating the dense horizon of trees.
They had been tracking for hours, making their way through the dense trees and brush. Moving along steadily, quietly up the mountainside and had seen nothing. Not even a glimpse. She was beginning to wonder if deer really existed. She had not seen a one. She had no idea they could be such elusive creatures. Just their mere size should give them away. The cold thinning air was beginning to take its toll. Her hands were frozen and she felt slightly delirious from it and asked him if they could find a place to stop and rest. A fallen tree laid out ahead of them just a short distance away, as if the woods themselves could sense her weariness and was beckoning her to sit if only for a few moments. He agreed, so they quietly, carefully made their way to it. She straddled the frozen trunk and made herself as comfortable as possible, and took a few deep breaths.
He laid his gun across her lap. It was heavy against her legs, the cold smooth steel of the barrel penetrating through her jeans. Not even the wooden butt, carved so beautifully by his own hand and rubbed to a deep patina held any warmth. He needed to relieve himself, so he walked away out of sight. She thought that seemed ridiculous as it was only the two of them out here, and she wondered if he was coming back. She glanced around. Out in the distance she caught a glimpse of movement. A large dark form, in the shape of a deer. In her excitement her hand and finger automatically slid into the trigger. She lifted the gun off her lap, raising the barrel. Suddenly he was back, about 10 feet in front of her. Standing directly in line with what could have been the perfect shot. He started to speak, she shook her head no..and with the barrel held high she pointed slightly over his shoulder for him to look.
Jesus Christ he hissed….put the gun DOWN. She looked up at him the barrel raised toward his face. She glanced down at the gun in her hands, feeling the weight of it there, wondering what his problem was. He had now frightened away her one chance of shooting a deer. She could see nothing wrong. She was holding his rifle just as he had taught her too. Her right hand placed properly, her gloved finger on the trigger, her left grasping the barrel for perfect steadiness. Glancing back up at him she asked what his problem was. He cautiously walked toward her, hands slightly extended in a nervous gesture. Jesus woman, I forgot to put on the safety, put the goddamned gun down, you are pointing it right at me!
She wondered, if she had foreseen then the cruelty she would face from him later on in life…if things, at that moment might have ended differently.
They rose early. Layering their clothing against the cold in case it were to warm up during the mid day so they could easily peel away anything unwanted. Heading out of the cabin, they made their way along a road. Walking size by side, not saying a word, the only sound the drumming of their feet echoing into the darkness. He was not a morning person and liked to keep his thoughts to himself. She was sure to not say a word as they made their way. They entered the woods just as the sun unhinged itself illuminating the dense horizon of trees.
They had been tracking for hours, making their way through the dense trees and brush. Moving along steadily, quietly up the mountainside and had seen nothing. Not even a glimpse. She was beginning to wonder if deer really existed. She had not seen a one. She had no idea they could be such elusive creatures. Just their mere size should give them away. The cold thinning air was beginning to take its toll. Her hands were frozen and she felt slightly delirious from it and asked him if they could find a place to stop and rest. A fallen tree laid out ahead of them just a short distance away, as if the woods themselves could sense her weariness and was beckoning her to sit if only for a few moments. He agreed, so they quietly, carefully made their way to it. She straddled the frozen trunk and made herself as comfortable as possible, and took a few deep breaths.
He laid his gun across her lap. It was heavy against her legs, the cold smooth steel of the barrel penetrating through her jeans. Not even the wooden butt, carved so beautifully by his own hand and rubbed to a deep patina held any warmth. He needed to relieve himself, so he walked away out of sight. She thought that seemed ridiculous as it was only the two of them out here, and she wondered if he was coming back. She glanced around. Out in the distance she caught a glimpse of movement. A large dark form, in the shape of a deer. In her excitement her hand and finger automatically slid into the trigger. She lifted the gun off her lap, raising the barrel. Suddenly he was back, about 10 feet in front of her. Standing directly in line with what could have been the perfect shot. He started to speak, she shook her head no..and with the barrel held high she pointed slightly over his shoulder for him to look.
Jesus Christ he hissed….put the gun DOWN. She looked up at him the barrel raised toward his face. She glanced down at the gun in her hands, feeling the weight of it there, wondering what his problem was. He had now frightened away her one chance of shooting a deer. She could see nothing wrong. She was holding his rifle just as he had taught her too. Her right hand placed properly, her gloved finger on the trigger, her left grasping the barrel for perfect steadiness. Glancing back up at him she asked what his problem was. He cautiously walked toward her, hands slightly extended in a nervous gesture. Jesus woman, I forgot to put on the safety, put the goddamned gun down, you are pointing it right at me!
She wondered, if she had foreseen then the cruelty she would face from him later on in life…if things, at that moment might have ended differently.
Published 20th Aug 2014
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20th Aug 2014 4:37pm
25th Aug 2014 6:13pm
