The Hunting Arrow

The Hunting Arrow

Melinda pushed opened the sliding glass door and gave a small gasp at the northwest sunset over the tips of the pines. The clouds stretched pink, and russet hues had fallen across her brother’s sloping property, bringing out the bursts of crimson on the blooming rhododendrons. The spring air was cool, almost cold for an Arizona girl like Melinda, and she reached back to snag her jean jacket off the back of one of the kitchen chairs.

A soft “sswifffft” sound came to her as she stepped out onto the deck and moved to the railing. Rick owned five acres he said, and it seemed an entire forest filled up his backyard except where the mossy grass had been carved out of the slope. At the bottom of the yard was one long green patch surrounded by thick maples. They were only now budding, and walls of scruffy pines leaned in over the property. Down there on the grass her brother was shooting his bow. “Sswwiffffft.”

She smiled. Her brother. She closed her eyes and tried to remember him, but they had been separated into foster care when she was only three. Now she was here, in his house, watching him and she couldn’t help but shake her head at the wonder of it. Family. Real family. Oh, she loved her adopted parents and all her sisters… but there had always been something nagging at her, some feeling of isolation. Rick glanced up and then grinned. “Come down,” he called up to her.

She hurried down the steps of the deck and then out onto the grass. It was wet, but then this was Washington, and the rain had pattered all morning without relent. The afternoon had cleared though into a glorious sunset. She let the cold breeze caress her shoulder length brown hair. The same color as Rick’s she noticed with yet another smile. We are the same. Her adopted family was pale blonde, but she could see in Rick’s skin the same tawny tone that had always made her tan so much easier than her sisters. We are the same, she thought again with wonder and satisfaction.

“Here, little sister, let me teach you how to shoot.” They both gave each other a goofy grin. Rick said that he too had always felt like something was missing, and when she finally contacted him it was as if the last puzzle piece had fallen into place. “I’m so glad you came up this weekend.” He handed her the bow. She took the smooth wood awkwardly, surprised at how heavy it was.

“Me too,” she said shyly. The plane fare hadn’t been easy to come up with, but she didn’t regret it at all. Getting to know Rick again was just something she had to do. Their mother was gone from an overdose, and no father had ever been listed on her birth certificate. But Rick, Rick she could have. A real brother! He helped her arrange her hand on the polished wood and then turned her for the proper stance. She stood with feet apart and arms up like a “T”.

“So how’s that boyfriend of yours?” Rick asked. They had had several slightly uncomfortable conversations on the phone after she had finally found his name on the internet. They had just been feeling around, trying to figure out how to talk to one another. Face to face had been much easier, almost compatible in a way.

“He’s fine. He’s really nice. I think you’d like him,” she commented, hoping he would. Jason had expressed doubts about her coming up here by herself to meet a man she hadn’t seen since she was three. We’re family, she had tried to explain, I have to do this. She pulled the string, but it was harder than she had expected and she let go.

“Don’t dry fire.” Rick gave her a scolding, big brother glance. She wondered why he wasn’t married yet. He was twenty-eight, handsome, and owned his own house… but of course there was plenty of time. He said he was between girlfriends at the moment.

As he placed the arrow, she could smell his aftershave. It reminded her of her adopted father. She had always loved to watch him shave when she was a little girl. How would it have been to grow up with a brother? To watch him learn to shave, learn to drive, start dating? She sighed. They had missed out on so much.

“Okay, pull again. Good. You’re stronger than you look.” He stepped behind her and she aimed at the target, a piece of paper taped to the back of a rusty lawn chair. She closed an eye for aiming, and watched as the tip moved around and around even as she tried to hold it steady. Her arm was growing tired, the string was far harder to pull than she would have imagined… then she let go. The arrow went up, curved, and fell into the woods.

“Good shot!” Rick said with a laugh and she winced.

“Sorry. I’ll get it.”

“No way. Those woods are full of blackberry brambles. Your legs will get all scratched up.” He gave a glance to her shorts, and she gave him a rueful smile. You could take the girl out of the desert, but not the desert out of the girl. “I’ll go,” he remarked with another of those easy smiles.
***

Rick headed into the woods. He was so happy to have Melinda back, he could barely contain himself. His little sister! She didn’t remember him, but he had been eight when they had separated. He had been more worried about her than himself as he maneuvered his way through the foster care system. He had worried for years about her, and had tried so hard to find her. Then, suddenly, when he had finally given up she had called him.

Wonders of wonders… He glanced back at her and thought with a pang that she looked like their mother. Tall, slim with brown shoulder length hair and a dark tan, she was what their mother might have been if she hadn’t lost herself to drugs.

He pushed into the brambles, his jeans and flannel shirt protecting him but the little thorns catching and pulling. He had to rip through a bit and was glad of his heavy boots when he saw the nettles. He would have to get out here soon with his string-cutter. He searched the ground for the telltale red feathers of the arrow, and saw it just a bit further into the woods. He stepped free of the blackberries and found himself in a small clearing under the boughs of the pines. The litter of pine needles was so thick that the ground seemed non-existent.

Rick was just reaching down for the arrow when he spotted a second arrow stuck not far from the first. The second was older and thicker, an aluminum hunting arrow. It had probably been there for years. He stepped over, gripped the end and pulled it up out of… oh, what the hell was that? By pulling the arrow up he had disturbed the carpet of needles. A white gleaming bone had come free as well and he frowned at it, wondering what part of the deer it had once belonged too. He brushed at the needles and felt another bone, this one bigger, rounder.

He carefully cleared the rounded shape. Two dark holes peered at him from the skull. He looked down at the arrow in his hand and was just about to drop it… this was a crime scene… when… something happened. He clutched the arrow tighter. It whispered to him. It dug into his memories; his foster mother beating him with her broom, his older roommate in the boy’s camp holding his hand down over Rick’s mouth. “You be quiet now…You be quiet and I won’t hurt you.”

“Rick? Rick, are you okay?” Melinda called from the lawn.

Stupid whore. Stupid girl. What did she know about being okay? She had had it easy. She had been so cute and adoptable. That rich couple had swooped her up and taken her to live in their big mansion in the desert where she had had a swimming pool and birthday parties. She had it so easy. And had she spared one moment to think about her older brother? The older brother that had looked after her when their mother would forgot them for days and days in their apartment? No, she hadn’t thought of him at all. She just… forgot.

He stared out at her from the other side of the brambles, knowing she couldn’t see him because of the enfolding darkness. Twilight was settling down like a gray veil over the world, and she stood there with arms crossed, shivering in her too thin jacket and silly shorts. “Rick?” she said again.
***

“I’m here.” He pushed out of the brambles, clutching an arrow in his hand. He hunched slightly, and of just a second she felt afraid. It was like a monster was coming out of the woods to eat her. His face stretched strangely under the shadow, his body seemed hulking, shaking. Then the moment passed and he was just her brother again.

“You scared me.” She gave a breathless laugh. “Let’s go in. I’m getting cold, and we better get moving soon or we’ll miss that movie you wanted to see.”

She blinked in confusion. Was he glaring at her? As he came closer she noticed the arrow clutched in his hand looked different. It was duller in color, the feathers black with mold. “What’s that?”

“Why do you care? You stupid girl. You spoiled rich girl coming here to rub my nose in it. Is that why you’re here? To rub my nose in how great your life has been? You think that everyone should just fall over themselves to love you. Everything should be easy for you. THAT’S NOT THE WAY THE WORLD WORKS, YOU STUPID TWIT!”

He lunged at her then, and despite her shock and confusion, Melinda ran. She screamed and she ran, but she ran the wrong way. She realized this immediately when she found herself in the woods. I need to get to the house, she thought panting, or better yet out to the street…what is happening, what is happening, what is happening? She caught a sob as she heard him thumping behind her. She turned around and now his face was completely in shadow. Old maples were crowded around them hiding the last light that was bleeding from the sky. “Please, Rick. Please.” She held up her hands. “I don’t know what happened. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. You’re scaring me.”

He stopped, a dark figure outlined by the gray light. “Oh, am I scaring you? I’m so sorry.” His voice was gentle but her heart sped up. Tears came to her eyes. “Let me hold you,” he crooned softly. “I’ll make you feel better, little lamb. Sweet little lamb. That’s what our mother called you, oh, but you forgot all about her, didn’t you?” He started forward again, and she backed up.

“Stay away from me. Just go. Go into the house. I just… I need you to go away from me right now.” She was proud that her voice sounded strong, but tears were falling from her eyes. He kept coming, slowly, one hand out and the other at his side. The one with the arrow clutched in his fingers.

She shook her head and backed up with each step he took. “Please, oh, please, oh please, go away!”

“Little lamb. I’m not going anywhere. I wouldn’t leave my beloved, devoted sister out here in the woods. Why you know there are bears, and mountain lions. Lots of coyotes. You hear them at night.” He suddenly raised his head and gave a howl that might have impressed her under different circumstances. As it was, she couldn’t breathe. Her heart was in her throat.

He howled again, and this time flashed his white teeth at her, smiling. She sobbed and stepped back one more time. Her ankle caught on some hidden bump. She fell over backwards into the thick forest floor, nettles stinging her legs and face. A dark shape jumped and then he was on her. He sat on her with all his weight and she screamed until his hand came down over her mouth. “You be quiet now, you be quiet… and I won’t hurt you.” He laughed and held her hands back with one of his. The other hand raised the arrow.

She couldn’t breathe. He was crushing her chest. She saw the glint of moonlight on the tip of the arrow raised overhead. Animal panic set in. She didn’t think. She fought like a wild thing and managed to pull her hands free. She grabbed his wrist as he started to bring the arrow down. Then she shoved him hard to the side. Suddenly, she was free. She dragged in a ragged breath and scrambled to her feet.

Once more, she was running.

Then she was falling, down a steep slope of decaying leaves, brambles, and tree roots. She hit her head on the rock at the bottom and she cried out with pain even as the world went blurry. Her hand was in something ice cold. A tiny stream gurgling out between moss- covered rocks and a thick carpet of ferns. The moonlight played silver on the water and for a moment, just a moment, she forgot where she was. Then she heard him coming down the bank. Lurching. Staggering. He giggled. “Little lamb, little lamb, you can run but there I am…” His boots went over a tree root and he fell.

He lay stunned and somehow the arrow had been knocked free. She could see it lying a few feet from his hand, a pale line of aluminum in the silvery light.

She snatched it up, despite her pounding head, and then leaped over the creek to put some distance between them. Where could she go now? Run downstream… but… why run? She had sat in an airplane for three hours to come here. She had called him out of love and concern. All she had wanted was a family. She turned on him with a curse. She glared at his prone body. He was starting to sit up.

“What the hell…” He muttered. “Oh, God, Oh, God! Melinda, Melinda I don’t know…how could I do that? How?” He gave a soft cry in the darkness. “Oh, Melinda, please you gotta believe me. I’m not like that. I’m not crazy. God, are you hurt? Are you hurt?”

She narrowed her eyes. Whine, whine, whine. Did he think that he was the only one with problems? She stalked toward him, gripping the arrow hard in her sweaty hand. Only one thought came to her then. She would stab that damn thing right through his throat, oh yeah, and see him cough and sputter. She grinned in the moonlight.

“You’re going to die, you son of…” Then her hand came down in a stabbing motion. It tore into his shoulder, the cloth ripping, the tip rising up bloody in the grey light. She kicked him between the legs and he rolled away from her, crying out. “I came up here to see you. I just wanted some family. You think everything was so easy for me? Hearing about my adopted mother’s precious genealogy conventions? Oh, she just loves to talk about her grandparents coming over from England, and then everyone glances at me. Better not talk about it in front of Melinda, they’re thinking. Her only ancestor was a crack whore. Oh, Melinda you had better not drink… you know your mother was a crack whore. Oh, Melinda, are you staying out past curfew …. You better not, your mother was a crack whore.” Tears and rage filled her with madness. She couldn’t see past the pain, but all she knew was how she hated him for judging her too. Everyone had always watched her, judged her, wondered if she would end up like her mother.

He sat up, hands raised, staring at her. “My God, Melinda, what is this madness? Why are we saying these things?”

She jumped at him. “I HATE YOU. HOW DARE YOU JUDGE ME TOO?” She screeched like a banshee and landed on him, the arrow poised for his heart. She would rip him into pieces. That was the only way to relieve the pain, the pressure. It was tearing her apart. She had to see his blood. Taste it…

He grabbed her wrist and shook with all his strength. They struggled, grunting, like animals. The arrow went flying, right into creek, and for a moment, there seemed to be no sound in the forest.

She stared at him. He stared at her.
***

That night Melinda got on an airplane heading south. As she stared out her little portal window at Sea-Tac Airport, she felt tears come to her eyes. She didn’t know how that piece of aluminum had cursed them, or how such things were possible. All she had known was that she couldn’t spend the night in her brother’s house, and she didn’t want to even stay one more night in the northwest.

She wanted hot desert air and the bright lights of Phoenix. She wanted away from trees, brambles, and stinging nettles. She wiped at the tears on her face. This reconciliation with her brother was going to be a bit harder than she had hoped … And where did the arrow go? She shook her head. Had it been the arrow? Had it really been some kind of curse that had caused them to go at each other with such ferocity? She shivered. She did not know what was worse; to live in a world where evil forces were at work in ordinary objects, or to believe that anyone anywhere could harbor the insanity to kill.


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