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The Game

Page 8

by Christopher J. Thomasson


  He had said yes, he understood, but this is different. Before now, the thought of killing one of these beautiful creatures was just that, a thought. Now that the deed is done, he can’t believe he actually pulled the trigger, actually took the life of such a majestic and beautiful creature. All thought of his father’s warning went by the wayside as he buries his fingers into the buck’s coarse brown coat of fur. Thankfully, his bullet had flown true and the deer had been dead before it hit the ground.

  He can hear his dad’s heavy footfalls behind him and a few seconds later, he slides down next to his son.

  “You okay?” he asks, panting.

  The Gringo continues to massage his fingers through the deer’s fur, as if his hands hold a healing power that will bring new life to the fallen creature. Through his tears, he says, “I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!”

  * * *

  Bill places a hand on his son’s head and gently rubs the soft black hair. He suspected this might happen. It had happened to him when he had first gone hunting with his own father so many years ago. And he knows exactly what his son is feeling. To take the life from something, even something like a deer, and knowing that it can never be returned—well, it strikes the heart in much the same way his son’s bullet had struck the heart of the deer. Except, where the deer is concerned, the pain and anguish is over almost as soon as it began—for his son, he’ll remember this moment for the rest of his life.

  To take an innocent life is a hard pill to swallow. Not everyone can be a hunter. Some people can’t get over the taking of that life, even when justifying the action for food or clothing. True hunters recognize the life sacrificed and thank God for providing it. Sport hunters do not care one way or the other; to them it is all about the trophy.

  If The Gringo (Bill’s still giving himself a mental headshake at his son’s choice in nicknames) follows in his footsteps, he’ll come away from this experience with a new respect for life. He’ll be less hesitant in taking a life and more appreciative of the benefits that life has to offer.

  “You okay?” His voice is gentle and complements the setting sun, the wisps of wind through the pines, and the musky smell of the great deer lying on the ground in front of them.

  “Yes, sir. I just wasn’t expecting this at all.”

  Bill nods in agreement even though his son isn’t looking at him. He’s also a little surprised. Here sits his son, not even a teenager, but so many times throughout the past year, he presented a persona far beyond his young years. It’s at those times he feels that his son has become more than just his son—more like a friend or brother—and someone much closer in age. He wonders if his own dad had felt that way about him when he was growing up.

  Steven sniffles, wipes his snotty nose on a sleeve, and says, “As soon as I pulled the trigger I wanted to take it back.”

  “I felt the same way when I killed my first deer.”

  His son finally lifts his eyes away from the deer and looks at him in the dimming light. “You-you did?”

  “Yes, Son. Taking a life, even one that would seem insignificant to us, is a hard thing to do and should never be done out of spite, hatred, or sport. This deer is giving us his life to provide our family with food.”

  “But-but did we really need his meat?”

  His dad looks away. He gathers his thoughts carefully, adjusting the words in his head to match a lesson his father had taught him years before.

  “No, Son, we don’t need the meat.”

  “But-” he begins, but his father holds up a hand to stop him.

  “Let me finish, okay?”

  Steven nods.

  Bill continues, and the words trigger a deep feeling of déjà-vu. The words spill from his mouth but he feels detached from them, as if they are channeled directly from his own father—a man ten years in the grave. “There are certain lessons in life, Son, which you cannot learn from either books or by standing aside and watching. Hunting is one of them. You cannot respect life until you know what it is like to take a life...only then do you learn to appreciate it. Do you understand that?”

  “I think so.”

  “Good. But that isn't the only lesson here.”

  The boy dons a quizzical stare and it makes him smile. The orange glow of the setting sun seeps through the trees like water through a colander, splattering his son’s face and the ground with golden light. He continues, “You probably will not understand this, but when you get older, you will begin to see that this world is full of uncertainty. You never know when disaster or tragedy will strike. Heaven forbid it ever happens, but if you are ever left on your own in the wilderness—for whatever reason—you have to be able to hunt and live off the land.”

  “Kind of like setting snares and traps for rabbits like I learned in Boy Scouts.”

  “Yes.”

  “And like how you taught me how to fish using a cane pole and some string and a worm?”

  “Exactly. Now, do you know why I taught you to do that?”

  He thinks for a second and his dad doesn’t interrupt his thoughts. He looks down at the rifle in his father’s hands. His eyes rise back to his dad’s patient stare. He answers, “Because I might not always have a fishing rod?”

  “That’s right.”

  His gaze settles on the rifle again.

  “But why teach me how to use a rifle? What if I don’t have one of those either?”

  He tousles the boy’s hair again and realizes that it is an automatic gesture of affection —something done countless times and will be done countless times more. “That’s why you learned all those other skills, but if you do have a rifle available, don’t you think you need to learn how to use it too? Just like you learned to fish with a fishing pole?”

  “I guess so.” As the final brush-strokes of light bleed away with the setting sun, Steven says, “But I still don’t like it.” It isn’t just the death of the deer that has him upset. The world around him has taken on a whole new light. Sure, he’s seen death time and time again in movies and television shows, but it’s always disconnected from life. But now that death is lying right in front of him, he worries that it will come for him sooner rather than later. If it doesn’t come for him, then it will come for his mother...or heaven forbid, his father! For the first time in his life, death is a very tangible thing, something more than just an idea or a scene from a movie.

  “That’s good, Son. That’s very good.” His father stands and steps over the deer. He pulls a knife from the scabbard on his belt. “Now break out one of those flashlights and help me get this deer cleaned. We’ve got a long hike back and he’s going to be mighty heavy.” He plunges the knife into the deer's belly and the coppery aroma of blood spreads its invisible tendrils through the air. It’s a smell that will grow familiar to Steven in the coming years.

  The Gravedigger

  Coming Soon

  Reader Praise For

  AVERAGE JOE

  This book is a real thriller! Loved the suspense and mystery. It really keeps you on the seat of your pants with all the action! I would recommend this book to almost any one. The killer was a real psychopath and is tortured with the evil one. Joe can see clearly after he connects with God! A great book!

  -Valory Elliott, Author

  This powerful story tells of overcoming tragedy, dealing with fear and finding salvation. It's written in a most readable form and draws the reader into the story. I kept telling myself, "Just one more page. Just to the end of this chapter." But I didn't stop reading. I highly recommend it.

  -Pat Haddock, Author

  Joe is a man haunted by his past; a past that holds great power over him. He possesses an unusual gift—he can see into the spirit realm. And so the story unfolds, and we, the reader, learn more about Joe’s fears and trials as he struggles with his ability (or disability, as Joe himself thinks).

  This book skillfully combines the literary conflicts of Man vs. Man (the central plot of the novel) and Man vs. Self (Joe’s struggles with his “gif
t”). The action takes place in East Texas, and the characters and their dialogue feel accurate in their depictions. Their interactions with one another ring true and at times made me laugh out loud. There are hints as to the identity of the antagonist, but the presence of a few red herrings adds interest and allows the suspense to build. The tension is palpable as our villain enacts the vendetta against Joe, causing him to embark on a circuitous journey as he tries to unravel the clues to the killer’s identity. As hard as he tries to avoid it, all paths lead him to the same place and Joe is forced to confront his fears. Ultimately, this is a story about good vs. evil, acceptance, and “letting go and letting God.”

  -Erin Schroeder

  INSPIRATIONS

  “I have enjoyed Inspirations. It shows much depth, especially from a spiritual standpoint! You are blessed as in this world there are few who aspire to climb higher, spiritually.”

  -LWT (one of my toughest critics: my dad)

  “I received this book on a giveaway for an honest review and I truly enjoyed it! Christopher is such a great inspirational writer and I love the fact the he brings true personal life experiences to this book which makes it so interesting to read. It is very well written and the poems are just beautiful. I would recommend it to anyone seeking peace, inspiration and knowing they are not alone out there living life's troubles and tribulations......anything is possible if we have faith in God and persistence in everything we do!! Thank you Christopher for bringing us this wonderful book and please continue inspiring us with your writings you have won a fan in me.”

  -Annie (Goodreads Member)

  “Inspirations” was the first book by Chris that I have had the pleasure to read. He includes brief introductions to several of his poems to give the reader insight to his subject. Some are written with the intent to merely entertain while others have a deeper meaning meant to “inspire” the reader. The short stories give us a brief taste of his talent with prose, making us yearn for just a bit more. The commentaries are snippets of his life—also included in his memoir, “I am Nobody”—that leave you with a better understanding of Chris, the person.

  -Erin Schroeder

  Deeply personal & beautifully written.

  Thoroughly enjoyed! The title says it all: Inspirations. Truly, an inspiration.. x.

  -@akakadydids (twitter follower)

  I AM NOBODY

  Chris has a very lyrical style of writing that truly engages the reader. Throughout this book, he opens his heart to us and gives us a view into the different stages of his life—from childhood to adolescence to adulthood—and all the trials he experienced during that journey. Many of us will have no trouble identifying with his many adventures, joys, and even sorrows. To say I enjoyed reading “I am Nobody” would be an understatement. It made me laugh and it made me cry…many times in the space of a few paragraphs. It would be impossible to read this book and not feel touched by the depth of emotion behind the prose. I think we can expect many great things from Chris in the future.

  -Erin Schroeder

  “It is so good. The way its written is like he’s right in front of you, sharing his story… beautiful.”

  -@pack_of_one (Twitter follower)

  NUGGETS

  “Nuggets” is a collection of micro poetry, a veritable treasure chest of poems to delight and entertain the reader. I had never heard of micro poetry before reading this book, but it is a challenging medium for the author and Chris nails it. The entire spectrum of human emotion can be found within its pages. It is true joy to be led through that spectrum by such a skilled author. Chris has a real gift for storytelling, whichever medium he uses.

  -Erin Schroeder

  “So dramatic, and different in a good way, I love your poems x.”

  @gamzemey96 (Twitter follower)

  You sign into your Twitter and are greeted with #Nuggets of beauty…

  You star favorites and immediately a want for more is craved.

  "Nuggets" satisfies those cravings in a perfect book of favorites.

  -@akakadydids (twitter follower)

  About the Author

  Christopher J. Thomasson was born in Honolulu, Hawaii in 1972. His family permanently settled in the piney woods of East Texas when he was two years old. He discovered a love for reading and writing at a very young age and until recently, only ever wrote for himself, his family, and his closest friends.

  In April 2013, at the age of 40, Christopher suffered a mild heart attack while on the tennis court. Within a couple of days, he was undergoing triple-bypass surgery. Because of his love for tennis and the increased active lifestyle the sport provided, the doctors informed him of a miracle—with the clotting in his veins, his heart created new vessels to transport blood to those areas of the heart that were being depleted...and as a result of those new vessels, his heart had sustained no damage!

  As a result of this experience, Christopher realized that he has more to add to this life than merely existing—he has a story to share—a lot of stories to share! He loves the challenge of writing outside just one or two genres. Many of his early short stories and poetry compositions include fantasy, science fiction, romance, and horror.

  Christopher lives in Tyler, Texas with his wife Debra. They have two children; Camron and Megan; and three grandchildren; Braydon, Cheyenne, and Brooklynn.

 

 

 


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