Fearless Warriors

by Drew Hayden Taylor

  This was true. I’ve bagged my share of deer in the past, but I seemed to be more occupied with school in the last few years. And, unfortunately, hunting season and college start about the same time of year. Nowadays, I hunt books in the library.

  “Bring me back a nice big steak, will you? It will just about make up for my swollen fist.”

  “You got it.”

  Out of the back seat I heard a polite if impatient “ahem” from my side of the car. That was definitely a signal to me.

  “Better make that two steaks.”

  “Consider them in your frying pan, Andrew my buddy. You know me, I haven’t come back yet without something bagged. It’s that fearless hunter in me, our noble ancestors coming through my trigger finger. And if somebody else in the back seat is nice to me, I could bring back some extra steaks.”

  William waited expectantly, hoping to buy his way out of the trouble he was in. Marie’s immediate family consisted mostly of women, many of whom married white men. So the influx of fresh deer or moose meat was very limited in their household.

  As William guessed, his bait was being nibbled at. “That’s cheating,” came the voice from behind.

  “That’s love,” came William’s response.

  Again Marie’s face appeared beside William’s. “Why can’t I ever stay mad at you?”

  “Because, as you’ve often told me, I’m a boy in adult’s clothing and you have a maternal instinct a mile wide. It’s a match made in Heaven.”

  “I wouldn’t exactly say Heaven but it’s close enough. Okay, I’ll let you off the hook, again.” She leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. Unfortunately, it was just below his newly swollen eye and I could see him wince. But, like the man he claims to be, he didn’t utter a whimper. He was too relieved to be back in Marie’s good graces. Now that left only one other matter to be resolved.

  And that matter was still growling behind me in the darkness. “I suppose you want to be forgiven too?” came the voice of doom.

  I answered honestly. “Not if it’s gonna get me into more trouble.”

  She was honest too. “I don’t know yet.”

  Sensing a warming of the cold war, William punched me in the shoulder. “It’s a beginning.” I turned to respond with my available arm but, was stopped by one of the voices from the back.

  “Come on, you two, not in the car.”

  Then came the deafening screams from behind and an ugly thump at the front of the car, making us swerve uncontrollably. Something, incredibly quickly, flew up the hood and slammed into the windshield, cracking it almost totally with fine web-like fissures from side to side.

  I hit the brakes and turned the wheel instinctively. The tires on the pavement screeched almost as loudly as the voices from the back, and I even heard a note or two from William as he grabbed the dashboard in front of him. Thanks to superior driving skills and a certain amount of luck, we managed to find a somewhat jarring home in the ditch.

  We sat there for a moment, only the sound of our heavy breathing and heartbeats audible in the dark car. Through the faint moonlight now appearing through the fog, I looked at William, and he looked at me. I figured we both had pretty well the same expression on our faces.

  “Is everyone okay. Marie? Barb? You?”

  Nobody answered off the bat. I don’t think they remembered they could talk.

  “William, you can let go of the dashboard, now. We’ve stopped.” I didn’t recognize the sound of my voice.

  William finally found his voice. “What the hell was that?! Did you see it? I think we hit something. Are you two okay? Huh?”

  We both turned in our seats to check on the girls. Marie had her head in her hands, Barb was sitting on the floor.

  William leaned over into the back seat and grabbed Marie’s arm. “Hey Babe, you okay? Hit your head or something?”

  As she took William’s hand she shook her head. “No, just got a headache, that’s all. I’m okay.” Beside her, Barb tried to crawl out from under the seat. I tried to help but I think I just got in the way. Marie gave her a hand more successfully. “Hey, you okay Barb?”

  Barb nodded at her, managed a feeble smile, then turned to me. “Andrew, what happened?”

  I was so happy to see that smile, no matter how feeble it was, under the circumstances.

  “I think we hit something, sweetheart, but I don’t know what. You sure you’re okay?”

  This time her smile was stronger as she nodded.

  I turned around in my seat to try to see where we were exactly, but it was virtually impossible to see out of the cracked windshield. It was like trying to look through a frosted window. William was looking out his passenger window, craning his head for a peek.

  “I think I see something.” He turned to me. “Well, shall we go investigate? See what trouble we’re in now?”

  We cautiously got out of the car, keeping the headlights on. Luckily we had skidded backend into the ditch, so the front of the car faced the road for the most part. At least we had some lighting to investigate what had hit us. Or, more correctly, what we had hit. Barb and Marie got out too, but they stayed by the car, not willing to see what remained of the thing on the road. To tell you the truth, that wasn’t high on my list of preferences either.

  As we slowly approached, the lump on the road took gradual shape. Even in the shadows of this deserted road, you could tell what it was. William smiled. “Well, buddy, speak of the devil. Congratulations, you got to bag your first deer of the season without leaving home. Nice sized one too.”

  It was a pretty expensive deer, judging by the cost of the windshield, the front bumper and hood, and God knows what else it had done to the tire alignment when we hit the ditch. I’d be lucky if this little deer didn’t ratio out to at least $8.00 a pound.

  Marie, rubbing her arms in the cool autumn night, yelled out to us impatiently. “Well, what is it? It’s not a person, is it?”

  William slapped me on the back. “No, Hawkeye here just hit tomorrow night’s dinner. It’s a deer.”

  The girls looked at each other, then hobbled up the ditch and over to where we were standing. The four of us stood there looking down at the crumpled body lying in the middle of the road. It was a good sized deer, a female, legs spread out like a sleeping dog. I like deer meat but I still could feel a bit of sadness looking at the delicate creature on the pavement in front of us. I’m sure the girls felt the same.

  “Oh, how sad. How old do you think it is?”

  William kneeled down to examine the head. “I’d say three years old, maybe four.”

  Marie asked, “So what are you going to do with it? Just leave it here?”

  Still kneeling, William started rubbing his hands in anticipation. “Well, technically it’s up to Andrew here, but we shouldn’t let something like this go to waste. I say we take it home and eat it. Andrew?”

  “Should we, Andrew?” asked Barb.

  They all looked at me, and I looked at the deer. The deer was already dead, and it would be a terrible waste to let it just rot or be picked apart by local dogs and such. And maybe I could sell some of the meat to pay for the car. That was illegal but no one would tell. And there was precedent for it. Every couple of years something like this happened and we called it “deer from Heaven.” Somebody on the reserve was even talking about offering some sort of deer/car insurance.

  “You’re right, no sense in wasting it. Let’s take it home then. Barb, see if you can get the car out of the ditch. The keys are in the ignition. William, shall we?”

  Barb turned to return to the car and Marie stepped back, giving us room to grab and lift the deer. William bent to grab the front legs while I got the rear legs. We lifted together but only got the animal about a foot off the ground when William let go of the legs, letting the animal drop with a thud.

  “William, quit kidding around.”

  At first William was silent, just staring down at the deer, then he looked up at me. There was genuine concern in hi
s voice. “Andrew, I don’t think it’s dead.”

  Sure enough, when I looked down, two big, brown, terrified eyes were staring up at us from the formerly dead deer. Marie uttered a squeal as she clasped her hands over her mouth and stepped back. I wasn’t far behind her. Even William took a surprised hop backwards.

  The deer was very much alive, moving even. Evidently it had only been unconscious before, only seeming dead. It kept trying to right itself, to stand, but something was wrong. The poor thing seemed off balance, uncoordinated. It just couldn’t get legs and body stabilized. Its front hooves scraped the pavement as they vainly tried to support the animal’s weight.

  Marie spoke the words I had been wondering: “What’s wrong with it?”

  The deer tried to stand again but immediately fell over, like a newborn puppy, or the newborn Bambi in that movie. It couldn’t stay on its feet. But it kept trying.

  William slowly circled the animal, watching it closely. “Its back’s broken.” William was right. The deer’s hindquarters were not moving or functioning in any way. From the mid back to the tail, nothing moved of its own accord. Like dead weight. Behind us I could hear the wheels spinning in the soft damp mud as Barb vainly tried to move the car. It seemed the car was unable to move much either.

  “Ooh, the poor thing,” was all any of us, specifically Marie, could say as we watched the deer give up on trying to walk. Instead, still terrified, it was using its front legs to crawl away. The hooves would scratch across the pavement, straining to pull the rear end of the animal a few inches. After going a foot, the animal stopped, exhausted but still terrified. Then it tried to stand again, but with the same results. It lay there, in the middle of the road, practically bisected by the yellow line.

  None of us had moved. Barb joined us, cursing to herself: “No damn good, the car’s deep in the mud. Who moved the deer?” Then she saw it lift its head and look at her. “Oh my God … ,” was her only response.

  The paralysed animal started to crawl again. Even in the bad light, from a dozen feet away, it was easy to see and hear the desperation of the deer as it tried to get away.

  “William, what should we do?” I was afraid of his answer.

  “I don’t think it’s a matter of choice. Meat aside, we’ve got to kill it. We can’t let it suffer.”

  One of the girls, I don’t know which, moaned a note of sadness. William noticed this. “Have either of you two got a better idea? Think we should just let it go and crawl off into the woods and die of starvation, or be attacked by dogs?”

  The girls just looked at each other. They knew we had to kill the deer—we all did. It was as necessary as killing a rabid dog, but it was not a decision any one of us had expected or wanted to make. I guess it’s natural to be repulsed by the need to kill, on purpose, a wounded, defenceless creature.

  It was Marie who spoke first: “Yes, I guess we have to. Ooh, the poor thing.”

  “It would be worse if we didn’t, Marie. Think about that.”

  It was my turn to ask a question that had been formulating in my mind since the obvious need to put the deer out of its misery had become evident. Again, I was afraid of the answer.

  “Um, William, how are we going to kill it?”

  He looked at me, confused for a moment, then the reality of the question sunk in.

  “I don’t suppose you have a rifle in the trunk of your car, Andrew?” he asked hopefully. I shook my head. I don’t even own a gun. The few times I had gone hunting I had borrowed an uncle’s.

  “Damn.” I agreed. A crippled and mangled deer crawling across the highway in front of us and no way to kill it mercifully.

  “What do we do then?”

  “Do you have anything? Anything at all?”

  I looked through my jacket pockets and held up a pocket knife. William shook his head. “That won’t do much.”

  Marie stepped forward a little to within a few feet of the struggling animal.

  “Well, we can’t let it suffer. I know this is going to sound cruel but maybe … like … we can run it over again? That should do it, shouldn’t it?”

  Barb joined her by the deer, shaking her head. “No can do, the car’s stuck.” Other than their voices, the only noise filling the night was that of hooves scratching on pavement.

  William shrugged his shoulders. “Well, I’m outta ideas. Andrew?”

  Unfortunately, I had an idea. I didn’t want to but it was there, in the back of my mind, screaming, “It’s the only logical thing to do.” I hate it when my mind does things like that. I swallowed and looked at William. He could tell I had come up with something.

  “I do have an idea. You won’t like it. I certainly don’t. But I can’t come up with anything else.” William looked at me expectantly. The girls turned to hear my idea too. I swallowed again.

  “In the trunk. I have a tire iron.”

  Both girls, once it sunk in, looked like they were going to cry. They grabbed each other’s hands.

  William, on the other hand, looked towards the deer, his face quite grim.

  “Yeah, that would do it. Can’t say it will be pretty but … No other choice, I guess.” He looked at me. “Well, let’s do it. Get it over with.”

  I got the keys from Barb, who looked on the edge of tears. I wasn’t much better. I knew I wouldn’t cry but there were a million other places I would rather have been at that moment, including back at the bar wrestling with the bouncer. And I’m pretty sure William wasn’t enjoying it either.

  Silently, except for the rusty groans and creaks of the trunk, we both got the tire iron. I’d only used it three times since I had bought it with the car—all three times to fix flat tires. I felt the weight in my hand. It certainly would do the job. Strangely enough, it felt good resting in my palm. We headed back to the middle of the road, having gotten our shoes and pant legs muddy. The girls were watching us as we approached. They moved aside, back towards the car, not that I could blame them. I wished I could go with them.

  By this time, the deer had made it almost to the other ditch. Another foot and it would be on the dirt shoulder. It craned its head as we came closer, and yet again we saw it futilely try to rise up and run. Instead, it resembled a grotesque marionette with broken strings.

  William touched my shoulder. “Do it, man. Then let’s go home. Make it quick.”

  This had become one of those moments we all face in life when you would gladly and willingly offer up a couple of fingers or even an eye just for a good, legitimate, reason to stop. But there was no such offer in the air. It had to be done and I had the tire iron in my hand.

  I stood over the deer, looking down at those inoffensive eyes, and the weight of the iron became heavier. I tried to imagine the iron coming down on the deer’s forehead, the quickest way to do it. I remembered all the deer meat I’d eaten over the years, all the deer I’d hunted. But it’s different when it comes to a paralysed doe and a simple, crude tire iron. As much as I knew I had to, I just couldn’t do it.

  “I can’t do it, William. I just can’t. My arm won’t go up. I keep seeing Bambi. You do it.”

  For the first time I thought I saw fear in William’s eyes.

  “Sure you can, Andrew. It has to be done.”

  “Then you do it.” I tossed the iron to him and he caught it instinctively. But he looked at it like it was dripping with some sort of plague.

  “The hell I will. You hit the deer. It was your car. You finish it.”

  He tossed it back to me. I tossed it back to him.

  “I don’t think so. You wanted to go out tonight. You got us in trouble and made us come home early. And it was you who punched my arm and caused me to hit the damn thing. You kill it. You’re the fearless warrior, remember? Prove it.”

  I stepped back, making it perfectly clear that I had no intention of giving in. I looked at him as sternly as I could and he actually seemed to cave in. His fingers wrapped tightly around the tire iron, he approached the deer. It struggled a few inches
more as William raised his arm, holding the tire iron aloft like a torch. It hovered up there before it came down. Quite slowly. Then it was dropped on the ground with a clang.

  William barely whispered the words: “I can’t do it either, Andrew. I tried, I really did, but like your arm wouldn’t go up, my arm wouldn’t go down. Christ, I’ve shot enough deer over the years, but I can’t kill this one. I can’t kill it, Andrew. I know I should, but it just looks at me with those goddamn eyes and I don’t know what to do.” This was the most emotional I’d ever seen him. In all the years we’d known each other, I’d never seen him crack like this. He kicked the iron towards me.

  “Like I said, I can’t do it. And I don’t think … in fact I’m positive the girls wouldn’t do it. So it’s up to you, buddy. Either you take care of it, or we just leave it here and walk away. Some choice huh?”

  As they say, the ball was back in my court. I could see the tire iron lying on the glistening pavement half way between me and the deer, who was on the road shoulder by now. Scarcely breathing, I bent over and picked it up.

  I clenched my fist around it and approached the deer for the final time. I passed William who didn’t say anything. In fact, he moved back to give me more room. Once again I stood over the exhausted deer. This time the hand holding the tire iron rose into the dark, damp air. It hovered there for a moment. I could hear the girls cry out as the damn thing came down. Quickly.

  The rest of the drive home was quiet. It took about fifteen minutes for me and William to get the car out of the ditch. The girls said hardly a word, with just the occasional sob coming from the darkness. William looked out the window, quieter than usual, even moody. I didn’t feel anything, or, more accurately, I didn’t allow myself to feel anything. Not right now, anyway. Besides, I had to concentrate on driving with the cracked glass and the fog. That sounded like a good excuse.

  We had left the deer hanging up in a tree so no animals could get at it. Somebody from the village would pick it up eventually, either for the meat or to take to the dump. We really didn’t care anymore. We just wanted to get home.

  William rolled down his window, letting the cold autumn air pour in through it. It felt refreshing, almost cleansing. The wind did wild, magical things with his long hair.