THE HUNT
“ZAC, I NEED your gun.”
Zac stared, wide-eyed, at his older brother. It was a question he hadn’t expected. For a moment, he wasn’t quite sure how to respond to it.
The morning was crisp. It was clear, it was bright. Birds sang and the sun was warm. He was still reeling from recent events, now being a landowner and all. It still didn’t feel real. It felt like a dream. He was still waiting for the catch, waiting for it all to come crashing down. He was still waiting for the realtors to come behind Burt and tell Zac that the deal was off because it didn’t hold any real merit. At least then he would only be out a quarter when it happened. Zac would have performed the labor for Burt at the store regardless.
At this point, he still hadn’t told a soul about the deal. That evening, after walking Bessie home, he had come home and stored the deed and the rest of the paperwork in a small suitcase underneath his bench. Thankfully, Taylor and Isaac hadn’t been home to question his actions. He wasn’t ready to say it aloud. To him, as long as he kept it between himself and Bessie, there was no chance that it could be taken away from them.
Oh, Bessie. His sweet Bessie. He wished so much to see her beautiful face this morning, but her absence made him smile. Yesterday, she’d revealed to him that her father had suggested taking their horses out for a stroll and she was over the moon excited. She hadn’t been riding in so long, she’d said, and it also gave her the opportunity to spend some quality time with her father. Today was that day. Zac might not get to see Bessie today, but she was safe with her father and she was happy. That was enough to comfort Zac.
Now, though. Now he stared at Taylor. After the events in New York, Zac didn’t think that giving Taylor access to the gun he had stashed away was a very bright idea.
“Why?”
Taylor stalled, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. He glanced around and ran a hand across the back of his neck. “Because I need a gun. Just for today, though. I mean, for now.”
Zac narrowed his eyes warily. “What if I say no?”
Lowering his voice, Taylor took a step closer to his younger brother. “Look. The, um, the fellas are going on a hunt today. You know, for squirrels and birds and stuff. I think Aishe expects me not to go. You know, like I can’t do it or something. But I got a family now, you know? There’s a baby and…and if I save money on meat so I can buy milk…why, bringing back a rabbit or something might…you know, she’ll think I’m worth something.”
Zac stared at Taylor. Watching him transform from a carefree bachelor into a family man in such a short period of time was astonishing. Zac still wasn’t able to believe it. He wondered if maybe, deep down, this was what Taylor had always wanted. Maybe a family was what he’d been waiting on. Maybe a petite, raven-haired gypsy laundress, who was currently staring Taylor down as she hung her linens was everything he ever needed.
Zac tried to read Aishe’s expression, but one never knew with her.
For the sake of manhood and brotherly love, he relented. “All right, fine. But you better not mess it up. Or lose it. Or sell it or trade it off. In fact…I got nothing better to do today. Why don’t I just come along?”
“Come along?”
“Sure, why not?”
“You’re not spending the day with Bessie?”
“Nah. She’s out horseback riding with her old man.” Then he muttered, “With the way this week has gone, I probably ought to get some rabbit shooting practice in, myself.”
To Zac’s surprise, Taylor smiled gratefully. “Well, all right, then. Let’s go hunt some rabbits.”
As the brothers made their way back to the trailer, Zac informed him, “You realize we’re not hunters, right?”
“Yeah. I know. But if I can come back with a couple of rabbits, I might get lucky! And she’ll probably make rabbit stew out of them!”
Zac nodded knowingly. “Definitely right about that rabbit stew.”
“Who says you’re getting any?”
“My pistol.”
“Fair enough.”
The brothers had attended these hunts before. While the hustle and bustle of the preparations would remind one of a grand, Native American hunting party from a couple of centuries ago, the gypsy men didn’t actually carry as much with them and the kills weren’t near as impressive. Rabbits and squirrels were the most common, followed by a bird or two. One even brought a snake back last year.
Inside the trailer, as the pair gathered their meager supplies—Zac with this gun and a couple of familiar throwing knives and Taylor with an old bow and arrow set—Taylor inquired of Zac’s current solo status. “So she’s off riding with her old man, huh?”
“Yup. I think I may have found the one thing I can’t talk her out of.”
“You tried to talk her out of spending time with her old man?”
Zac scoffed as he gathered extra bullets in his pockets. “Of course not. I was referring to the horse.”
“Hm,” Taylor mused. “Since when is she into horses?”
Zac shrugged. “Beats me. The judge owns a couple of them. According to Bessie, they haven’t been ridden in awhile. Next thing I know, she’s coming at me, over the moon that her old man suggested they go. Guess he’s trying to get as much time in as he can before she goes off to college.”
“Isn’t that what you should be doing? Getting as much time in as you can?”
Zac opened his mouth to speak and then closed it. Like his ownership of the clearing, no one knew of Bessie’s plan to skip out on college. He knew in his heart of hearts that he should send her off, and he knew his brother would agree. With the way times were right now, nobody could afford to throw away such an opportunity. But after what his heart went through on the road this past month…why, if Bessie’s heart was set on skipping school, well then so was Zac’s.
In response to Taylor, Zac shrugged. “Can’t keep her to myself all the time.”
At this, Taylor’s spine straightened and Zac pretended not to be aware that he was under his older brother’s scrutiny.
“Say, what are you hiding?”
Zac’s shoulders flinched uncontrollably and then he winced at himself for the reaction. “I have no idea what you mean.”
“Oh, yes, you do. Any other time you can’t have Bessie attached to your hip, you’re busy pouting like a baby and being a spoil sport. ‘Can’t keep her to myself all the time’ is not in your vocabulary.”
“So what?” Zac shot back defensively. “Maybe I learned some things over the last month. What’s it to you?”
Taylor wasn’t convinced and Zac knew it. But he also wasn’t ready to divulge his personal business with Bessie, either. Taylor accepted it, but it was clear that he didn’t like it. “Fine. I’ll leave it alone—for now. But you are hiding something and I will find out what it is.”
“What you’re about to find out is what happens if I miss a rabbit and you take a bullet right in the ass.”
Taylor already looked wounded. “You said I could use your pistol.”
“An arrow, then. Doesn’t matter. Let’s just go hunt.”
An hour later, the two brothers and a group of roughly seven or eight gypsy men were getting into the thickening of the woods with very little luck. Shots had been fired, arrows bounced off of tree trunks, and Taylor nearly took a rock to the head from a teenager’s slingshot. One squirrel had been collected and it belonged to neither of the Hanson brothers.
The heat was nearly unbearable and the shade of the trees did very little to suppress it. Zac silently cursed Taylor out for everything he was worth for suggesting this trip and if it hadn’t been for the fact that he’d have had nothing else better to do than watch the clock tick by than go on this trip, he’d have done it out loud.
Suddenly, pulled out of his thoughts, Taylor’s hand clamped down on his shoulder and very nearly forced him to the ground. “What the fu--?”
“Shh!” Taylor hissed. “Don’t scare it away.”
Zac saw absolutely nothing. Had the heat finally gotten to his brother? Furthermore, did he actually think that squatting behind a thin patch of brush was really going to outsmart a small, ground-dwelling creature?
“Have you lost your mind?” Zac spat. “There’s nothing there!”
“Quiet! I hear it.”
“That could be anything—“
“Listen!”
Sure enough, just feet away from them, came a light rustling. Admittedly, this excited Zac a little bit and now he was finally getting into the spirit of the hunt.
“Just wait,” Taylor whispered as he slowly cocked the small pistol. “I bet it’s a big one.”
After a moment of complete, sweltering silence, the rustling finally grew faint. Zac’s heart pounded. Should they have shot blindly and taken a chance? But where? In the general direction of the sound? No. They’d scare off every cut of wild meat within a mile’s radius, at least.
“Come on,” Taylor whispered. “Slowly. It went further ahead.”
Zac felt like they were kids again, creeping after strange noises in the woods, and it caused an excitement to bubble up inside him that he welcomed. Today was going to be the day. They were finally going to bring home the big one.
After what felt like forever, and with a patience Zac didn’t know he possessed, the rustling that was never seen led them to a small clearing in the woods, one he wasn’t familiar with. It wasn’t near as impressive as the one he now owned, but it wasn’t bad. The grass was yellowing from its exposure to the scorching sun and a random, rotting tree stump sat off to the side, but it seemed like it might be an all right spot to stop and camp for the night if one needed to. He imagined that happened a lot.
In the time it took for the brothers to survey their new surroundings, neither one of them had noticed that the rustling had disappeared. It wasn’t until movement in Zac’s peripheral vision occurred that he remembered why they were there.
He eyed the mongrel with a glare as it stepped out of the woods from the side. If ever a moment Zac wanted to kill that beast, now was the time and he had the means to do it.
“Goddammit, Scout,” Zac spat in annoyance. “All this time, we were chasing you?”
“Zac,” Taylor murmured. “Are you sure that’s Scout?”
“Well, I’m not blind. I know my own dog.” He rolled his eyes and snapped his fingers. “Scout, come. You’re gonna ruin this hunt if you don’t mind me.”
“I don’t think that’s Scout…”
Scout wasn’t listening. This was just great. He supposed that after a month with Bessie, the dog learned to only listen to her. That would change.
Zac let out a whistle. “Come here, boy!”
Scout stepped cautiously. As he drew closer, Zac beamed at Taylor in validation. “See, there? Told you I know my own dog.”
“He sure don’t seem like he’s happy to see you.”
“Nonsense. He’s always happy to see me.”
Returning his attention back to the mongrel, he noticed that the dog had grown closer, but no more thrilled to see his beloved master than moments before. What was the problem? Did Zac look different? Smell different? Had Zac managed to piss him off?
That last one wouldn’t have surprised him.
Upon further inspection, however, it did appear that something seemed a bit off about the beast. He looked thinner; a little unkempt for a short-haired animal, but he supposed that could be attributed to his romp in the woods. What got Zac’s attention, though, was the way his tail remained tucked and what looked like thick saliva pouring from the corner of his mouth.
I was like déjà vu.
Zac’s heart raced and he stood still as stone. This couldn’t be happening again. Please, not again.
As his life flashed before his eyes, Taylor was incessantly whispering his name. “Shut up,” Zac whispered forcefully. “Don’t move a muscle and give me my pistol.”
“You told me not to move!”
“Now is not the time. My pistol. Now.”
“You’re gonna shoot him?”
“I have to.”
“You’re gonna kill your own dog? Bessie will never forgive you, you’ll lose her forever!”
“I don’t have a choice! Give it to me! Slowly.”
Scout took another step and Zac thought he might throw up. He wished the damn thing would growl or…or something to indicate some semblance of a time frame of attack. The anticipation was torturing him.
And Taylor was right about Bessie. By God, he was right. Bessie would hate Zac forever. This might actually be the last straw for their relationship. But at least everyone involved would be free from a rabies-induced attack.
With the pistol finally in Zac’s hand, Taylor whispered, “Are you sure?”
“I’ve seen this before. Remember? When Ma saved me from the mutt back then? This is the same thing. If I don’t do it, he’ll die anyway. But not before he spreads it or kills one of us. Or both. I don’t have a choice.”
Slowly, Zac raised his pistol and aimed. He couldn’t have gotten a clearer shot than the one he had. As he applied pressure to the trigger, however, he hesitated and his throat caught. What if this wasn’t rabies? What if he was just sick and was asking Zac for help?
At that moment, Scout’s lip raised and a low grumble escaped his throat. Zac had his answer. It had to be done.
“I can’t watch this,” Taylor whispered.
“Then don’t,” Zac whispered back through his teeth. But the truth was, he couldn’t watch it, either.
And, so, in that split second, he squeezed his eyes shut and pulled. He seemed to feel the full force of the tiny pistol radiating all the way up his arm. The slight whimper of the beast rang loud in his ears, the pounding of his own heart deafening him.
The minute felt like an hour and the hour felt like a day. He couldn’t feel the tears until they stung his eyes as he forced them open. No matter how much he’d objected to the mutt, Bessie had managed to convince Zac that he was family and he’d grown accustomed. In spite of himself, the mongrel had become a friend; a reliable companion during less reliable times.
The dog’s body lay there, on its side, limp and lifeless. Blood glistened on the grass around its head, carnal debris surrounding it almost like a halo, hand-delivered by the Angel of Death. As Zac tasted the bile rising in his throat, Taylor was already bent over in a nearby bush. The pounding in his ears returned, this time louder than before. Louder, faster, the pounding grew, seemingly shaking his entire body right through his core and into his feet. The ground shook. His jaw slackened. What was happening? Was this shock? Was he about to faint? Was he having a heart attack?
It was then that Zac realized that it was none of those things. Not when the pounding was the sound of eight hooves pummeling the earth below them. Not when the hooves grew closer and came to an immediate halt in the clearing as their riders demanded they stop. Not when his dear, sweet Bessie jumped down and began to melt down the moment her feet met the ground.
The horror on her beautiful face evoked more fear in him than any rabid dog ever could. What was worse, was the way the horror was directed at him, and the mix of emotions he felt was almost too much to bear.
Before anyone could react, she ran straight to the carcass that lay in the middle of the clearing between them. Surprisingly, Zac’s feet moved immediately and, in a flash, he met her there and was able to catch her before she collapsed onto the dead animal. She fought him, as he knew she would, and he tightened his hands around her wrists as he struggled to push her away from the scene.
“You monster!” She screamed at him as the tears streamed down her cheeks. “You monster, I knew it! I knew you hated him, I just knew it!”
“Bessie, listen—“
“No, you listen! I am done with you, this is over! How could you be such a horrible, terrible person? How could you do something so…so cold-hearted and murderous just because you didn’t like a poor, innocent, helpless dog? I thought I knew you! I was going to—I was going to drop everything--!”
“Bessie, he was sick!” Zac rushed, in a pleading attempt to keep her from continuing her statement.
“When someone is sick, you don’t just kill them!”
“It was rabies, Bessie! He had rabies! I’ve seen it before, when I was a kid. It was the same thing. I told you that, remember? Remember? It was the same thing.”
She shook her head, still sniffing the tears back. She stepped back to release herself from Zac, but he held on for fear that she might expose herself to the infected dog’s body.
“That’s a likely story,” she spat through her tears. “You never said anything of the sort, you’re a liar--!”
He hadn’t? He’d never told her that? He was sure that he did--
“It’s true,” Taylor’s voice rang out. Zac was surprised to see him erect and walking around. He supposed he’d gotten all the retching he could get out of his system. He stepped toward them, careful to stay far away from the bloodied carcass. “He’s telling the truth. When he was a child, a rabid dog approached him outside of our farmhouse. I remember when Ma snatched him up and our old man shot it dead just as quickly. It happened so fast, the memory is almost a blur. It’s true, Bessie. And Scout—well, he was just the same today.”
Zac could feel Bessie’s body relaxing just a little as her eyes darted between Taylor’s and Zac’s, but she wasn’t defeated just yet. “You…you murdered my dog…”
“Well, actually he was our dog,” Zac mumbled.
“Admit it, he was never your dog, you never wanted him to be your dog—“
“Beatrice,” a stern voice rang out, a bellow that practically echoed off of the trees that surrounded them.
Zac let go of her in the instant her head whipped around at the sound of her name. Judge Harlow dismounted his horse and proceeded to wrap the pairs of reins around the stump that adorned the clearing. When his hands were free, Bessie turned around and ran straight into her father’s arms. “Daddy!” She wailed.
Zac wished he knew what to feel in the moment. On one hand, he was surprisingly confident that the relationship wasn’t over. Bessie could be awfully overdramatic and this was something he was getting used to. On the other hand, was this what he was going to be known for? As a dog-killer? And would Judge Harlow now condemn him for this? Would he allow Bessie to spend her time with a dog-killer? Oh, God, had he committed a crime? Would Judge Harlow have him arrested?
With Bessie, tears and all, tucked underneath his arm, the judge approached the Hanson brothers as they stood like a shield in front of the dead dog. Zac could see the mixture of pain and understanding on his face and it was then that he knew what side the judge was on.
The side of reason and the understanding of dramatic young women.
“Rabies, huh?” The judge asked.
“Yes, sir,” Zac nodded. “Full-blown. I didn’t want to believe it at first. But he’s been missing for a couple of days and he approached us here in the clearing. He was drooling. Acting funny. Then he growled at me and I had to make a decision.”
“You could have taken him to the veterinarian,” Bessie spat.
“Beatrice, that is enough,” the judge commanded. “Veterinarians can’t cure rabies, there was nothing they could have done. Do you know what rabies is, Bessie? Didn’t I teach you that on the farm? There’s no coming back from that. He would have died from it, anyway, and if he were allowed to go on, he could have hurt both Zac and Taylor—maybe even you—and spread it around to other animals. Zac did what had to be done in that situation. He didn’t murder anything. It had to be done. I would have done the same.”
“It’s not fair,” she sobbed.
“No, darling, it isn’t fair. Life is isn’t always fair. But he was a happy dog being your dog and you gave him the best life he could have. He couldn’t help getting sick. But he’s in a better place now, he’s not suffering anymore.”
“Daddy,” she sniffled.
“Bessie, baby, I didn’t want to do it,” Zac said quietly. “You might not believe it, but I loved Scout, too. And it tore me up to have to pull that trigger. You gotta believe me.”
The clearing was silent as Bessie stood there, tucked into her father, calculating everything she had just heard. There was nothing else that could be done or said. The dog was dead, everyone had said their piece—now it was up to Bessie to decide what her own verdict was going to be: was Zac a cold-blooded, murdering monster, or was her father right and more trustworthy than her boyfriend was?
Come to think of it, did Zac even have a dog in this fight?
Bad analogy. Thank God, he didn’t say it out loud.
Finally, she lifted her tear-streaked face off of her father’s ribcage. “Can I keep his collar?”
“No,” came a chorus of voices.
“He can’t be touched, not even a finger,” Zac said to her. “He’s very contagious, both humans and animals can be infected.”
Her eyes widened and her jaw slackened and he thought he saw a new set of tears welling up in her eyes. But to his surprise, she ripped herself from her father’s arms and threw herself into Zac’s.
He held her close to his body, tightly, feeling his own chest constricting, but he dared not say a word. Out of the corner of his eye, he witnessed the judge step around them, presumably so that he could get a look at the carcass himself and assess the situation.
“I’m sorry, Zac,” Bessie whispered frantically. “I’m sorry I accused you so, I just…miss him so much!”
Fresh tears dampened his shirt and it took everything he had not to follow suit. After all, he was in the presence of men with a very serious situation that needed immediate dealing with. He had to be strong. Diligent. A man.
“I miss him, too,” he whispered back, pressing his lips into the top of her head. “Honest, I do.”
“We’ll have to burn him,” Judge Harlow’s voice cut like a knife through the air.
“Burn him?” Bessie gasped in horror.
“It’s the only way,” the judge replied. “Can’t risk letting other animals get to his carcass.”
“Oh, dear lord,” her chin trembled with horror.
“Taylor,” the judge addressed authoritatively. “You ever ridden a horse?”
“Um…”
“It’s easy. Just nudge it in the ribs and lead it where you want it to go. Bessie knows the way.”
“Daddy!”
“Show Taylor back to the stables,” he commanded. “Help him with the horses. Then tell your mother to set two extra plates on the table. We’ll be along shortly.”
Nobody could say no to the judge, not when he used that tone of voice, not even Bessie. Zac watched Taylor nervously struggle to mount the beast and Bessie morosely untied the reins from the stump and mounted her own. With a little encouragement and a few lackluster words, the two of them were on their way slowly out of the clearing and in the direction of the Harlow residence.
Once they were out of sight, the judge wasted no time looking directly into Zac’s eyes. “We’re going to need fire and a shovel. And we can’t leave this carcass alone.”
Audibly Zac gulped and looked down at the dead dog, the bile threatening his throat once more. With thinking quicker than he expected, he began to unbutton his shirt. “We’ll have to carry it with us.”
“All right then,” the judge nodded in agreement. “Lead the way.”
And with that, Zac and the judge were carrying a dead, rabid dog toward the gypsy camp. There would never come a day that could be more screwy than this one had turned out to be.
“ZAC, I NEED your gun.”
Zac stared, wide-eyed, at his older brother. It was a question he hadn’t expected. For a moment, he wasn’t quite sure how to respond to it.
The morning was crisp. It was clear, it was bright. Birds sang and the sun was warm. He was still reeling from recent events, now being a landowner and all. It still didn’t feel real. It felt like a dream. He was still waiting for the catch, waiting for it all to come crashing down. He was still waiting for the realtors to come behind Burt and tell Zac that the deal was off because it didn’t hold any real merit. At least then he would only be out a quarter when it happened. Zac would have performed the labor for Burt at the store regardless.
At this point, he still hadn’t told a soul about the deal. That evening, after walking Bessie home, he had come home and stored the deed and the rest of the paperwork in a small suitcase underneath his bench. Thankfully, Taylor and Isaac hadn’t been home to question his actions. He wasn’t ready to say it aloud. To him, as long as he kept it between himself and Bessie, there was no chance that it could be taken away from them.
Oh, Bessie. His sweet Bessie. He wished so much to see her beautiful face this morning, but her absence made him smile. Yesterday, she’d revealed to him that her father had suggested taking their horses out for a stroll and she was over the moon excited. She hadn’t been riding in so long, she’d said, and it also gave her the opportunity to spend some quality time with her father. Today was that day. Zac might not get to see Bessie today, but she was safe with her father and she was happy. That was enough to comfort Zac.
Now, though. Now he stared at Taylor. After the events in New York, Zac didn’t think that giving Taylor access to the gun he had stashed away was a very bright idea.
“Why?”
Taylor stalled, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. He glanced around and ran a hand across the back of his neck. “Because I need a gun. Just for today, though. I mean, for now.”
Zac narrowed his eyes warily. “What if I say no?”
Lowering his voice, Taylor took a step closer to his younger brother. “Look. The, um, the fellas are going on a hunt today. You know, for squirrels and birds and stuff. I think Aishe expects me not to go. You know, like I can’t do it or something. But I got a family now, you know? There’s a baby and…and if I save money on meat so I can buy milk…why, bringing back a rabbit or something might…you know, she’ll think I’m worth something.”
Zac stared at Taylor. Watching him transform from a carefree bachelor into a family man in such a short period of time was astonishing. Zac still wasn’t able to believe it. He wondered if maybe, deep down, this was what Taylor had always wanted. Maybe a family was what he’d been waiting on. Maybe a petite, raven-haired gypsy laundress, who was currently staring Taylor down as she hung her linens was everything he ever needed.
Zac tried to read Aishe’s expression, but one never knew with her.
For the sake of manhood and brotherly love, he relented. “All right, fine. But you better not mess it up. Or lose it. Or sell it or trade it off. In fact…I got nothing better to do today. Why don’t I just come along?”
“Come along?”
“Sure, why not?”
“You’re not spending the day with Bessie?”
“Nah. She’s out horseback riding with her old man.” Then he muttered, “With the way this week has gone, I probably ought to get some rabbit shooting practice in, myself.”
To Zac’s surprise, Taylor smiled gratefully. “Well, all right, then. Let’s go hunt some rabbits.”
As the brothers made their way back to the trailer, Zac informed him, “You realize we’re not hunters, right?”
“Yeah. I know. But if I can come back with a couple of rabbits, I might get lucky! And she’ll probably make rabbit stew out of them!”
Zac nodded knowingly. “Definitely right about that rabbit stew.”
“Who says you’re getting any?”
“My pistol.”
“Fair enough.”
The brothers had attended these hunts before. While the hustle and bustle of the preparations would remind one of a grand, Native American hunting party from a couple of centuries ago, the gypsy men didn’t actually carry as much with them and the kills weren’t near as impressive. Rabbits and squirrels were the most common, followed by a bird or two. One even brought a snake back last year.
Inside the trailer, as the pair gathered their meager supplies—Zac with this gun and a couple of familiar throwing knives and Taylor with an old bow and arrow set—Taylor inquired of Zac’s current solo status. “So she’s off riding with her old man, huh?”
“Yup. I think I may have found the one thing I can’t talk her out of.”
“You tried to talk her out of spending time with her old man?”
Zac scoffed as he gathered extra bullets in his pockets. “Of course not. I was referring to the horse.”
“Hm,” Taylor mused. “Since when is she into horses?”
Zac shrugged. “Beats me. The judge owns a couple of them. According to Bessie, they haven’t been ridden in awhile. Next thing I know, she’s coming at me, over the moon that her old man suggested they go. Guess he’s trying to get as much time in as he can before she goes off to college.”
“Isn’t that what you should be doing? Getting as much time in as you can?”
Zac opened his mouth to speak and then closed it. Like his ownership of the clearing, no one knew of Bessie’s plan to skip out on college. He knew in his heart of hearts that he should send her off, and he knew his brother would agree. With the way times were right now, nobody could afford to throw away such an opportunity. But after what his heart went through on the road this past month…why, if Bessie’s heart was set on skipping school, well then so was Zac’s.
In response to Taylor, Zac shrugged. “Can’t keep her to myself all the time.”
At this, Taylor’s spine straightened and Zac pretended not to be aware that he was under his older brother’s scrutiny.
“Say, what are you hiding?”
Zac’s shoulders flinched uncontrollably and then he winced at himself for the reaction. “I have no idea what you mean.”
“Oh, yes, you do. Any other time you can’t have Bessie attached to your hip, you’re busy pouting like a baby and being a spoil sport. ‘Can’t keep her to myself all the time’ is not in your vocabulary.”
“So what?” Zac shot back defensively. “Maybe I learned some things over the last month. What’s it to you?”
Taylor wasn’t convinced and Zac knew it. But he also wasn’t ready to divulge his personal business with Bessie, either. Taylor accepted it, but it was clear that he didn’t like it. “Fine. I’ll leave it alone—for now. But you are hiding something and I will find out what it is.”
“What you’re about to find out is what happens if I miss a rabbit and you take a bullet right in the ass.”
Taylor already looked wounded. “You said I could use your pistol.”
“An arrow, then. Doesn’t matter. Let’s just go hunt.”
An hour later, the two brothers and a group of roughly seven or eight gypsy men were getting into the thickening of the woods with very little luck. Shots had been fired, arrows bounced off of tree trunks, and Taylor nearly took a rock to the head from a teenager’s slingshot. One squirrel had been collected and it belonged to neither of the Hanson brothers.
The heat was nearly unbearable and the shade of the trees did very little to suppress it. Zac silently cursed Taylor out for everything he was worth for suggesting this trip and if it hadn’t been for the fact that he’d have had nothing else better to do than watch the clock tick by than go on this trip, he’d have done it out loud.
Suddenly, pulled out of his thoughts, Taylor’s hand clamped down on his shoulder and very nearly forced him to the ground. “What the fu--?”
“Shh!” Taylor hissed. “Don’t scare it away.”
Zac saw absolutely nothing. Had the heat finally gotten to his brother? Furthermore, did he actually think that squatting behind a thin patch of brush was really going to outsmart a small, ground-dwelling creature?
“Have you lost your mind?” Zac spat. “There’s nothing there!”
“Quiet! I hear it.”
“That could be anything—“
“Listen!”
Sure enough, just feet away from them, came a light rustling. Admittedly, this excited Zac a little bit and now he was finally getting into the spirit of the hunt.
“Just wait,” Taylor whispered as he slowly cocked the small pistol. “I bet it’s a big one.”
After a moment of complete, sweltering silence, the rustling finally grew faint. Zac’s heart pounded. Should they have shot blindly and taken a chance? But where? In the general direction of the sound? No. They’d scare off every cut of wild meat within a mile’s radius, at least.
“Come on,” Taylor whispered. “Slowly. It went further ahead.”
Zac felt like they were kids again, creeping after strange noises in the woods, and it caused an excitement to bubble up inside him that he welcomed. Today was going to be the day. They were finally going to bring home the big one.
After what felt like forever, and with a patience Zac didn’t know he possessed, the rustling that was never seen led them to a small clearing in the woods, one he wasn’t familiar with. It wasn’t near as impressive as the one he now owned, but it wasn’t bad. The grass was yellowing from its exposure to the scorching sun and a random, rotting tree stump sat off to the side, but it seemed like it might be an all right spot to stop and camp for the night if one needed to. He imagined that happened a lot.
In the time it took for the brothers to survey their new surroundings, neither one of them had noticed that the rustling had disappeared. It wasn’t until movement in Zac’s peripheral vision occurred that he remembered why they were there.
He eyed the mongrel with a glare as it stepped out of the woods from the side. If ever a moment Zac wanted to kill that beast, now was the time and he had the means to do it.
“Goddammit, Scout,” Zac spat in annoyance. “All this time, we were chasing you?”
“Zac,” Taylor murmured. “Are you sure that’s Scout?”
“Well, I’m not blind. I know my own dog.” He rolled his eyes and snapped his fingers. “Scout, come. You’re gonna ruin this hunt if you don’t mind me.”
“I don’t think that’s Scout…”
Scout wasn’t listening. This was just great. He supposed that after a month with Bessie, the dog learned to only listen to her. That would change.
Zac let out a whistle. “Come here, boy!”
Scout stepped cautiously. As he drew closer, Zac beamed at Taylor in validation. “See, there? Told you I know my own dog.”
“He sure don’t seem like he’s happy to see you.”
“Nonsense. He’s always happy to see me.”
Returning his attention back to the mongrel, he noticed that the dog had grown closer, but no more thrilled to see his beloved master than moments before. What was the problem? Did Zac look different? Smell different? Had Zac managed to piss him off?
That last one wouldn’t have surprised him.
Upon further inspection, however, it did appear that something seemed a bit off about the beast. He looked thinner; a little unkempt for a short-haired animal, but he supposed that could be attributed to his romp in the woods. What got Zac’s attention, though, was the way his tail remained tucked and what looked like thick saliva pouring from the corner of his mouth.
I was like déjà vu.
Zac’s heart raced and he stood still as stone. This couldn’t be happening again. Please, not again.
As his life flashed before his eyes, Taylor was incessantly whispering his name. “Shut up,” Zac whispered forcefully. “Don’t move a muscle and give me my pistol.”
“You told me not to move!”
“Now is not the time. My pistol. Now.”
“You’re gonna shoot him?”
“I have to.”
“You’re gonna kill your own dog? Bessie will never forgive you, you’ll lose her forever!”
“I don’t have a choice! Give it to me! Slowly.”
Scout took another step and Zac thought he might throw up. He wished the damn thing would growl or…or something to indicate some semblance of a time frame of attack. The anticipation was torturing him.
And Taylor was right about Bessie. By God, he was right. Bessie would hate Zac forever. This might actually be the last straw for their relationship. But at least everyone involved would be free from a rabies-induced attack.
With the pistol finally in Zac’s hand, Taylor whispered, “Are you sure?”
“I’ve seen this before. Remember? When Ma saved me from the mutt back then? This is the same thing. If I don’t do it, he’ll die anyway. But not before he spreads it or kills one of us. Or both. I don’t have a choice.”
Slowly, Zac raised his pistol and aimed. He couldn’t have gotten a clearer shot than the one he had. As he applied pressure to the trigger, however, he hesitated and his throat caught. What if this wasn’t rabies? What if he was just sick and was asking Zac for help?
At that moment, Scout’s lip raised and a low grumble escaped his throat. Zac had his answer. It had to be done.
“I can’t watch this,” Taylor whispered.
“Then don’t,” Zac whispered back through his teeth. But the truth was, he couldn’t watch it, either.
And, so, in that split second, he squeezed his eyes shut and pulled. He seemed to feel the full force of the tiny pistol radiating all the way up his arm. The slight whimper of the beast rang loud in his ears, the pounding of his own heart deafening him.
The minute felt like an hour and the hour felt like a day. He couldn’t feel the tears until they stung his eyes as he forced them open. No matter how much he’d objected to the mutt, Bessie had managed to convince Zac that he was family and he’d grown accustomed. In spite of himself, the mongrel had become a friend; a reliable companion during less reliable times.
The dog’s body lay there, on its side, limp and lifeless. Blood glistened on the grass around its head, carnal debris surrounding it almost like a halo, hand-delivered by the Angel of Death. As Zac tasted the bile rising in his throat, Taylor was already bent over in a nearby bush. The pounding in his ears returned, this time louder than before. Louder, faster, the pounding grew, seemingly shaking his entire body right through his core and into his feet. The ground shook. His jaw slackened. What was happening? Was this shock? Was he about to faint? Was he having a heart attack?
It was then that Zac realized that it was none of those things. Not when the pounding was the sound of eight hooves pummeling the earth below them. Not when the hooves grew closer and came to an immediate halt in the clearing as their riders demanded they stop. Not when his dear, sweet Bessie jumped down and began to melt down the moment her feet met the ground.
The horror on her beautiful face evoked more fear in him than any rabid dog ever could. What was worse, was the way the horror was directed at him, and the mix of emotions he felt was almost too much to bear.
Before anyone could react, she ran straight to the carcass that lay in the middle of the clearing between them. Surprisingly, Zac’s feet moved immediately and, in a flash, he met her there and was able to catch her before she collapsed onto the dead animal. She fought him, as he knew she would, and he tightened his hands around her wrists as he struggled to push her away from the scene.
“You monster!” She screamed at him as the tears streamed down her cheeks. “You monster, I knew it! I knew you hated him, I just knew it!”
“Bessie, listen—“
“No, you listen! I am done with you, this is over! How could you be such a horrible, terrible person? How could you do something so…so cold-hearted and murderous just because you didn’t like a poor, innocent, helpless dog? I thought I knew you! I was going to—I was going to drop everything--!”
“Bessie, he was sick!” Zac rushed, in a pleading attempt to keep her from continuing her statement.
“When someone is sick, you don’t just kill them!”
“It was rabies, Bessie! He had rabies! I’ve seen it before, when I was a kid. It was the same thing. I told you that, remember? Remember? It was the same thing.”
She shook her head, still sniffing the tears back. She stepped back to release herself from Zac, but he held on for fear that she might expose herself to the infected dog’s body.
“That’s a likely story,” she spat through her tears. “You never said anything of the sort, you’re a liar--!”
He hadn’t? He’d never told her that? He was sure that he did--
“It’s true,” Taylor’s voice rang out. Zac was surprised to see him erect and walking around. He supposed he’d gotten all the retching he could get out of his system. He stepped toward them, careful to stay far away from the bloodied carcass. “He’s telling the truth. When he was a child, a rabid dog approached him outside of our farmhouse. I remember when Ma snatched him up and our old man shot it dead just as quickly. It happened so fast, the memory is almost a blur. It’s true, Bessie. And Scout—well, he was just the same today.”
Zac could feel Bessie’s body relaxing just a little as her eyes darted between Taylor’s and Zac’s, but she wasn’t defeated just yet. “You…you murdered my dog…”
“Well, actually he was our dog,” Zac mumbled.
“Admit it, he was never your dog, you never wanted him to be your dog—“
“Beatrice,” a stern voice rang out, a bellow that practically echoed off of the trees that surrounded them.
Zac let go of her in the instant her head whipped around at the sound of her name. Judge Harlow dismounted his horse and proceeded to wrap the pairs of reins around the stump that adorned the clearing. When his hands were free, Bessie turned around and ran straight into her father’s arms. “Daddy!” She wailed.
Zac wished he knew what to feel in the moment. On one hand, he was surprisingly confident that the relationship wasn’t over. Bessie could be awfully overdramatic and this was something he was getting used to. On the other hand, was this what he was going to be known for? As a dog-killer? And would Judge Harlow now condemn him for this? Would he allow Bessie to spend her time with a dog-killer? Oh, God, had he committed a crime? Would Judge Harlow have him arrested?
With Bessie, tears and all, tucked underneath his arm, the judge approached the Hanson brothers as they stood like a shield in front of the dead dog. Zac could see the mixture of pain and understanding on his face and it was then that he knew what side the judge was on.
The side of reason and the understanding of dramatic young women.
“Rabies, huh?” The judge asked.
“Yes, sir,” Zac nodded. “Full-blown. I didn’t want to believe it at first. But he’s been missing for a couple of days and he approached us here in the clearing. He was drooling. Acting funny. Then he growled at me and I had to make a decision.”
“You could have taken him to the veterinarian,” Bessie spat.
“Beatrice, that is enough,” the judge commanded. “Veterinarians can’t cure rabies, there was nothing they could have done. Do you know what rabies is, Bessie? Didn’t I teach you that on the farm? There’s no coming back from that. He would have died from it, anyway, and if he were allowed to go on, he could have hurt both Zac and Taylor—maybe even you—and spread it around to other animals. Zac did what had to be done in that situation. He didn’t murder anything. It had to be done. I would have done the same.”
“It’s not fair,” she sobbed.
“No, darling, it isn’t fair. Life is isn’t always fair. But he was a happy dog being your dog and you gave him the best life he could have. He couldn’t help getting sick. But he’s in a better place now, he’s not suffering anymore.”
“Daddy,” she sniffled.
“Bessie, baby, I didn’t want to do it,” Zac said quietly. “You might not believe it, but I loved Scout, too. And it tore me up to have to pull that trigger. You gotta believe me.”
The clearing was silent as Bessie stood there, tucked into her father, calculating everything she had just heard. There was nothing else that could be done or said. The dog was dead, everyone had said their piece—now it was up to Bessie to decide what her own verdict was going to be: was Zac a cold-blooded, murdering monster, or was her father right and more trustworthy than her boyfriend was?
Come to think of it, did Zac even have a dog in this fight?
Bad analogy. Thank God, he didn’t say it out loud.
Finally, she lifted her tear-streaked face off of her father’s ribcage. “Can I keep his collar?”
“No,” came a chorus of voices.
“He can’t be touched, not even a finger,” Zac said to her. “He’s very contagious, both humans and animals can be infected.”
Her eyes widened and her jaw slackened and he thought he saw a new set of tears welling up in her eyes. But to his surprise, she ripped herself from her father’s arms and threw herself into Zac’s.
He held her close to his body, tightly, feeling his own chest constricting, but he dared not say a word. Out of the corner of his eye, he witnessed the judge step around them, presumably so that he could get a look at the carcass himself and assess the situation.
“I’m sorry, Zac,” Bessie whispered frantically. “I’m sorry I accused you so, I just…miss him so much!”
Fresh tears dampened his shirt and it took everything he had not to follow suit. After all, he was in the presence of men with a very serious situation that needed immediate dealing with. He had to be strong. Diligent. A man.
“I miss him, too,” he whispered back, pressing his lips into the top of her head. “Honest, I do.”
“We’ll have to burn him,” Judge Harlow’s voice cut like a knife through the air.
“Burn him?” Bessie gasped in horror.
“It’s the only way,” the judge replied. “Can’t risk letting other animals get to his carcass.”
“Oh, dear lord,” her chin trembled with horror.
“Taylor,” the judge addressed authoritatively. “You ever ridden a horse?”
“Um…”
“It’s easy. Just nudge it in the ribs and lead it where you want it to go. Bessie knows the way.”
“Daddy!”
“Show Taylor back to the stables,” he commanded. “Help him with the horses. Then tell your mother to set two extra plates on the table. We’ll be along shortly.”
Nobody could say no to the judge, not when he used that tone of voice, not even Bessie. Zac watched Taylor nervously struggle to mount the beast and Bessie morosely untied the reins from the stump and mounted her own. With a little encouragement and a few lackluster words, the two of them were on their way slowly out of the clearing and in the direction of the Harlow residence.
Once they were out of sight, the judge wasted no time looking directly into Zac’s eyes. “We’re going to need fire and a shovel. And we can’t leave this carcass alone.”
Audibly Zac gulped and looked down at the dead dog, the bile threatening his throat once more. With thinking quicker than he expected, he began to unbutton his shirt. “We’ll have to carry it with us.”
“All right then,” the judge nodded in agreement. “Lead the way.”
And with that, Zac and the judge were carrying a dead, rabid dog toward the gypsy camp. There would never come a day that could be more screwy than this one had turned out to be.