SOON Online Magazine

Stories

Change in a Dream by Gunnar McClellan

The twang of the bow, the whiz of the arrow, the penetration of skin and muscle and tracking the blood trail that is soon to come. As the alarm clock awakens me with a horrendous scream, I gently roll out of bed so as to not awaken my sleeping wife. I quietly pull on my camouflage, pack up my hunting gear and trudge through the dense fog that lays waste to my car somewhere in the near distance. As I find my truck, I gently rest my bow and arrow case in the back seat and turn the engine over. With this I get my first real sensation of the hunt that is soon to follow. The first thoughts of the twang of the bow, the whiz of the arrow, the penetration of skin and muscle and tracking the blood trail that is soon to come. As I am "On a long and lonesome highway East of Omaha I listen to the engine moanin' out his one note song" and think about the hunt the day before. As the golden sun breaks the plane in the distance I am already perched in my tree stand waiting for that perfect buck. As I fix my eyes towards the brush in front of me I begin to see a slight movement, my heart begins to race and the adrenalin begins to pump, then the movement stops and as I fix my binoculars to my eyes I see a black spot emerge from the brush. With this sighting I quickly and quietly set my binoculars down, pull an arrow from my sheath and fit it to my bow. As I fixate on the target I slowly begin to pull my arm back as the beautiful head of a doe breaks the barrier between, what seems like fiction and reality. As I slowly lower my bow I can't help but stare at this majestic piece of perfection. At that long slender body meant for running and jumping, at those every watching eyes and at those all hearing ears. Just as I begin to see the imperfections in my body the doe turns and meanders off through the dense brush that engulfs the sky and horizon in front of me. The moments of silence return, the long and arduous battle with my mind again rages in full force. Finally my mind wins and I am lost, my whole world seems dark and dreary, the fog that had lifted again is rolling in, if this is true fog or my mind at its devilish tricks I am not sure. Yet through this fog I begin to see a faint glow, so faint that at first I begin to question its validity yet this glow seems to multiply in size and intensity. It appears as the sun glistening off the mane of a huge male lion in the morning sun. As this glow came closer and closer I begin to return to normalcy and realize that this glow is no mirage no male lion but it is a huge buck coming to meet its death. It is an animal that has no fear in the presence of his eternal enemy. As I stare into his unending eyes I can't help but feel beaten, to feel as though I did not come to kill the buck yet that the buck came to kill me. That it came to purge me of my faults and of my wrong doings. With this I pack up my bow, re-cover my arrows, and climb down from my tree stand. As I turn around from the tree a see a shape following me in the distance, not the shape of a beast but the shape of a savior. I finally reach my car and again put my bow and arrow case in the back seat and put the key in the ignition. Just as I hear the engine turn over I awaken to the screaming of my alarm clock. With this I gently roll out of bed so as to not awaken my sleeping wife. I quietly pull on my camouflage, pack up my hunting gear and trudge through the dense fog that lays waste to my car somewhere in the near distance. As I sit in my car I think of the twang of the bow, the whiz of the arrow, the penetration of skin and muscle and tracking the blood trail that is soon to come.

© 2003 Gunnar McClellan

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