"Lee's Moment" Story

This forum is for general discussion that doesn't fit in the other topic-specific forums.
User avatar
missed mallards
Duck South Addict
Posts: 2168
Joined: Mon Mar 08, 2004 11:29 pm
Location: Leland, MS

"Lee's Moment" Story

Postby missed mallards » Thu May 09, 2013 1:24 pm

Got tired of crunching #'s and took a break.
Short story, read at will, probably errors. Hope ya enjoy.

“Lee’s Moment”


March had finally arrived. It was the month I’d so looked forward too and now there were just mere days before I could hit the timber. I was as excited about the opener as I had been all those Christmas mornings as a child. The start couldn’t get here soon enough, and before I knew it, it was already consuming my life. Old friend’s understood, new ones didn’t, and family just let it be. Some call it an obsession, some call it a sickness, but I just refer to it as fun! I was ready to hear that thunderous gobble, let out a few yelps, and watch the chips fall into place.

The season started off with little activity. A few gobbles here and there, a few adventures’ for my journal, and few hens summed it all up. It wasn’t shaping to be much of a season, yet, I kept at it. Every morning, I rose, jumped into the truck, and set out. Morning after morning was the same. I would venture into the dark timber, listen, and play the cards that I had been such dealt. I was quickly beginning to realize I wasn’t much of a poker player, and games were getting costly. The excitement at first was now frustration, and the enjoyment of the hunt took a back seat to anger. To put it nicely, my mood swings were worse than a woman during that special time of the month. Some days I came home happy. Others I came home content. And then some days I came home madder than a disturbed hornet. I needed a change and a moment to regroup. That moment came with just a simple request.

My younger brother found himself with a long weekend ahead. It seemed as though the rain would hinder their efforts to plant and the desire to hit the woods came on all at once. It was around noon one Friday when he came down the hall with gun in hand. A simple smile crossed his face and a “Come on” was all that was needed. As we hit the highway, discussion went from laughter to a serious nature. My brother wanted a bird, or his first, and he was digging at me. Questions came quickly, and before I knew it a game plan was created. It was rather simple. We’d arrive that evening at the camp, he’d drop me off on the far side of the timber and my evening would be spent gathering Intel for the following morning.

At around 7:15 the following morning, I had made up my mind that if I heard one more crack from him concerning my surveillance, it was going to be on. I had all I could take, and the wise cracks kept on coming. Comments that started with, “Mr. Turkey”, “Mr. Walkandtalkinthespring”, “Mr. Iknowwheretheyare” all came at what seemed like the wrong moment. Then the woods filled with laughter and for the first time that season I was just enjoying the moment. I was back to having fun, and for some brief period, allowed my mind to be free of all the junk that had cluttered it. To put it in Lee’s words, “man, we may never kill anything, but their ain’t anyone that has as much fun.” Truer words had never been spoken. Then, it happened.

With the morning looking to be a bust, I made a reference to a video that pretty well sums up our hunts together. On a short clip in T.K. and Mikes Turkey hunt, some fella made the comment “I’m going to hit this call 5 times, and the turkeys going to come out of that bush!” Well, I’ve hit that poor call some 500 hundred times until that point, and truth be told never expected much. I was honestly doing it for just the mere laughter I expected to follow. However, on that 5th yelp, a gobble shattered the silence that morning. The way we were scurrying across the forest floor to find a tree would have made an onlooker expect an atomic bomb to drop just any minute. Facemask went on, butts hit the ground, and guns came to rise in the direction the ole tom sounded off.

The next 15 minutes were long. Quite possibly, the longest 15 minutes I’ve ever sat in the woods. It went from an all-out heart throbbing experience, to silence, in less than a second. He gobbled twice, and just shut up. Not a sound could be heard, and the silence had begun to make my ears ring as I strained to hear anything. A leaf being crushed, a stick snapping, drumming, I mean anything. The harder I strained, the more my ears seemed to ring. Not knowing exactly what had happened, and feeling as though the bird could be close, I let out a purr that made goose bumps rise down my arms. It wasn’t but a second later, my ears were filled with that ‘VROOOOMMMMMM” that all turkey hunters dream to hear.

That’s about the moment my heart sank. I caught movement out of the corner of my eye and saw my brother’s head peering around the tree with question marks in his eyes. I knew he was going to ask I just hoped he wouldn’t. “Tom, hey, what the hell is that?” A simple shut up put his mind at ease and he knew. The bad part of the situation, the strutter was behind us. I was getting glimpses of him as he made his way up and down the creek but couldn’t gather enough information to make a move. When he stepped into the opening, I was on him. Bead at head, heart racing, trigger on finger. For some act of brotherhood, or kindness, the moment I realized he was heading back east, I rested my body. I then watched as my brother made his move. His gun slowly rose; his body stiffened, and just as he got ready the turkey disappeared from my view. A second went by, then another, and another, and as I relaxed for that half a second, he shot.

In the time it took me to find the turkey, he was up on two feet. His fist pumping like a piston stroking a small bore engine at max RPM’s. A loud whoop was yelled, and just like that, his #1 was flopping on the ground. It was awesome, and I was as confused as to what happened as I had been the first day in my Spanish class some many years prior. I sat there in amazement for a short spell. I was trying to rerun the events, and then it hit me, he was flopping. Just like that, I was on my 2 feet, in a dead sprint to the downed bird. The excitement and thrill of seeing his first bird in his hand had made the whole season worth the trip.

An old man once told me, “In life, there are pot holes. Drive down any gravel road and I’m sure you’ll get your fill. Just keep going, don’t look in the mirror, and don’t stop to back up! You may only get a few minutes of smooth road underfoot, but that short time will make the potholes a faint memory. ” Though this turkey season was full of potholes, this one moment of easy riding, graded, stretch of road made my season. The excitement returned, the fun reappeared, and before I knew it the lush green timber was as brilliant a painting as any I had ever seen! Good Times, Fun hunts, and stories to add to the many!
If I don't do it, I ain't gettin nun.......So i'm doing it
User avatar
mossyisland
Duck South Addict
Posts: 1978
Joined: Thu Oct 24, 2002 12:17 am
Location: morgan city, ms
Contact:

Re: "Lee's Moment" Story

Postby mossyisland » Thu May 09, 2013 8:17 pm

Great Job!
DanP
Duck South Addict
Posts: 1488
Joined: Tue Mar 20, 2007 6:38 am
Location: Leland

Re: "Lee's Moment" Story

Postby DanP » Thu May 09, 2013 9:07 pm

Yep, going in the magazine :D

You are truly a talented writer.

Return to “General Discussion Forum”

Who is online

Users browsing this forum: No registered users and 51 guests