“But why?”
“Because.” I deepened my tone so he’d know not to push me.
And he was smart enough not to.
Makuvan hung in the sack tied across my back. My two-year-old son could walk on his own, butit was a little too dangerous out here. He might wander off while I was taking care of his brother, and I might not find him again. “Dad.” He reached his little hand over my shoulder, opening and closing his palm like he wanted a snack.
I reached into my pocket and placed a snack I’d packed for him in his hand.
He immediately ate it, able to stand in the sack and look over my shoulder.
I continued forward, and after a couple minutes of silence, Xiathan dropped his attitude and came to my side.
“How are we going to take the deer back?”
“I’ll carry it, and you can carry your brother.”
“But he smells.”
I hid my smirk as best I could. “You think you don’t?”
“No,” he said with a laugh.
We walked through the forest for a while, and I finally found a fresh dropping that told me a pack of deer had been there recently. I stopped Xiathan from walking by grabbing his arm and bringing him to a halt. I got down on one knee, and my son did the same.
“I think they’re headed this way,” I said quietly. “If we’re patient, they’ll come right here into the clearing. Get your bow ready.”
He reached for the bow I’d carved myself. Put an arrow to the string like I’d taught him but didn’t aim.
Moments like these made me remember a different time when I’d taught Darius to hunt for the first time. The two boys were very different from each other, Xiathan coming from a life of privilege that I tried my best to make him forget. Darius and Tiberius had been very aware of the fact that if we didn’t catch anything on our hunt, we ate only vegetables for dinner.
We waited in silence.
Makuvan reached his hand over my shoulder and opened and closed his fingers again.
I reached for a piece of dried fruit and put it in his hand, and he ate that.
The deer eventually stepped into the clearing.
I silently gestured to Xiathan to put the arrow to the string and tighten his elbow.
He did as I told him, but his form was still off. So I reached behind him, forced his arm back to make the string even more loaded. Lined him up to make the shot. Then I nodded to him, telling him that he was ready.
He stared down the deer with the arrow ready, but his elbow started to shake as he held the string and didn’t release it.
I waited, unsure what he was waiting for.
Then he dropped the bow altogether. “I can’t. Just can’t…” The tears came from nowhere.
The deer scattered when they realized they’d been stalked and immediately ran off.
I pulled the bow off him and placed my hand on his back. “You can’t what?”
“I don’t want to shoot the deer, okay?” he said through his tears. “It makes me feel so bad…seeing them dead on the ground…and their eyes are open.”
I started to rub his small back as he cried. “It’s okay. It’s okay.”
“I’m sorry. I don’t want to disappoint you?—”
