Thursday, February 23, 2017

Drive - A Memoir 50th Installment

twine tied to our gun and spot light, we scaled the stack. We pulled the battery, the gun and the spot light to the top. In the moonless pitch–dark night we lay on our backs looking up through the crisp clear air at the stars and waited. The stars were glorious, billions of them, bright against the black sky. The cold seemed to make them brighter and thicker.

Russ whispered, “Look at the Milky Way; it’s so bright that it nearly looks solid because there are so many stars. It seems so close I think I can reach up and touch it from here.”

The Milky Way?” I replied, “That reminds me I wish we’d brought up our milk and cookies!”

After a while we crept over the hay stack’s edge and clicked on the spot light. There were jackrabbits everywhere, and for a moment I didn’t know which one to pick, shining the light from one to another.

Pick one and hold still. The rest aren’t going anywhere; they don’t know where we’re at. We’re ghosts to them up here.” Russ hurriedly said as he was ratcheting the gun’s chamber to load the first shell. I picked one. Pop, it was down and kicking. I picked another. Pop, a head shot, and it just fell into a pile of death. I picked another. Thud, a gut shot, the jackrabbit went down, then tried to escape by pawing along with its front legs and dragging its body. Russ had to shoot it again to put it out of its misery.

That ends your attempt for the perfect 50/50 tonight,” I moaned. I was competitive and wanted to be the first shooter to do the 50 jackrabbits out of the 50 shells in a box, but I also wanted it to happen; for either of us. What a great thing to brag about regardless of whose name is on the story. We stayed out a long time, taking turns, waiting, then shooting. We’d nearly filled our barrel when we headed home. The milk was frozen and so were the cookies. We warmed the cookies in our mouths until we could bite a piece off and ate them anyway.

After we got home, spread out the jackrabbits so they wouldn’t all freeze together in a bloody lump, put away our stuff, ate real food not just cookies and repaired to bed; I brought up the Richard ride, “I was thinking that our barrel holds around 100 jackrabbits, and that made me think about the frontage road ride home with Richard. Do you remember?”

What did you say?”
Richard!” I bellowed, “Pay attention.”

Oh, Edith’s brother. Oh Yeeeaaahh.” Russ drawled.

Russell’s brain really was attached to his mouth. I thought. Russ continued with a silly question, “That was seven or eight years ago, you were only seven. You can’t remember last week, but you say you can remember seven years ago?” I had

500 more words tomorrow

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