The last time James went hunting was after Carolyn was born. Daddy Bent and Roddy, my father and brother-in-law, loved to hunt and of course James was expected to go also. Roddy got his first deer when he was eleven or twelve, I guess, but James always missed.
They had insisted that he sit in a tree and they would scare a deer in his direction. The gorgeous deer came close, her beautiful brown sad eyes looking at him. He couldn’t shoot. He didn’t care what his brother and Dad thought, so he fell out of the tree and saved face.
No comments:
Post a Comment