This is a long story, but this was one of the most glorious moments of my life, and by God I’m gonna do it justice.
I was raised on a piece of land way out in the country, and hunting is a tradition that runs way back in my family. Every fall I look forward to enjoying cool days in the woods; sitting in a deer stand is a kind of hillbilly meditation for me, and a much-needed break from city where I’m currently going to school.
My best friend, let’s call her Kate, has been begging me for the past two or three seasons to take her hunting. In principle, I didn’t mind the idea of introducing someone to the sporting tradition, but hunting with another person means hunting the only 2-man stand on the property, which isn’t in a great spot for deer. Most mornings in that stand pass without seeing a single animal, and since I only have a limited amount of time in the woods, I didn’t want to waste a day in such a poor spot. Finally, however, Kate pestered me so severely that I broke down and promised her I’d take her hunting the next saturday afternoon when I was home from school. She was so excited about it that it almost made up for wasting a good morning on the sub-par deerstand.