The Deerslayer

A deep chill held Memphis captive; dark clouds covered the slowly fading, setting sun. It must have been the month of January. The cold wind set into your bones like death is said to do. It was a Thursday evening as two brothers carried furniture in to town in the bed of a pickup. Traffic was busy the other side of the road, everyone leaving town, headed home for a three day weekend. Nicholas and Jeremiah had one final delivery before they too would join the festivities of an extra day off. Though theirs was without pay. Pay that, in truth, they really could have used. There was a vague hope for a nice enough tip out of this last delivery. Usually those hopes, in times of greatest need, went unfulfilled.

It had become dark enough that Nicholas flipped on his headlights, though there was still some gray light to the sky; enough so that he could clearly see way beyond what his low beams illuminated. They came to a red light and Jeremiah suggested turning left onto Highway 64 rather than crossing over it and circling around to their destination. His logic: that the left arrow would precede the full green, making their trip that much sooner ended. Highway 64, for the reader's benefit, is a heavily trafficked road in the Memphis area. Tonight was no exception. Cars passed before the brothers, who waited for the green arrow, with barely inches separation. The cold was palpably evident in that every vehicle spouted white smoke from rear mufflers as they passed or waited alongside the pickup truck.

The arrow finally lit. A few stragglers on 64 blazed through the blatant red light. Finally, the lead car, sensing it was safe to process lurched forward into a left hand turn, followed by several others, and finally by the brothers. No sooner had they reached the 45-mile per hour speed limit, than they saw deer running across the road. This was rare indeed, for 64 is 6 lanes wide and not a place for deer to even attempt crossing this time of day. In 23 years, give or take a few due to early childhood naivety, Nicholas had never before seen deer on this highway.

A split second was all that passed from seeing the deer leaping with incredible speed through the oncoming traffic which slowed for the red light ahead, until the creatures were in the lanes of traffic with Nicholas and Jeremiah. And another split second before the lead car of the left turners, a black SUV smashed into one of the doe. The animal's momentum was so immense that it continued in the general direction originally intended. To the right hand side of the road it bounced and somersaulted, hind legs completely shattered and flailing around with it. Deer hair snowed down onto the pavement. The taillights of the SUV lit fiery red as it slammed on its breaks, but it was too late.

Oh shit! was all Nicholas could think. He may have even executed saying it a few times in the flash of time it took to witness the catastrophe. Instantaneously, he got that awful gut feeling, racing heart, forehead sweat, and adrenaline reaction similar to the abrupt waking of students who fall asleep in class and then dream about falling, or when someone jumps out and scares an unsuspecting friend. He likewise braked and slowed the truck, both for fear of more casualties and to settle his nerves digesting what had just happened.
 
His brother, in a state of shock but also beginning to dismiss the event, confessed he could never go hunting. He could never kill something so beautiful, so God-gifted tranquil and innocent. And he couldn't understand those people who could kill deer for sport. Nicholas heard Jeremiah speaking but was busy thinking about the bitter cold that the helpless deer was left to embrace, frozen and suffering, immobile, in a world that has abandoned and condemned it to the side of a road. "What about that deer?" he asked his brother. He already knew the answer but sometimes one asks dumb questions not wanting to accept the obvious answer without confirmation. Jeremiah answered him, "It's going to lie there and die. Probably freeze to death during the night. It can't move. Its hind two legs were in shards."

"I wish I had a pistol right now! I wish I had bought one by now. I could deliver that poor creature out of its misery. Oh I wish I had a freaking pistol! I'd save that tortured beast!" Nicholas pulled the truck over. "What are you doing?" Jeremiah inquired. "Nicholas, what? What are you doing?"
Nicholas had a determined look on his face. "We cannot leave it to die like that, bro." 

"Yea, okay, but what are you doing? This is crazy! What can you possibly do!?"

"I don't know. I do know that no one else is going to stop. No one else cares. And no one else is going to help. Dammit! I care! I will not stand aside." He turned off the ignition and buttoned his bulky winter coat. "Stay here."

"The hell I'm staying here. I'm coming with you."

There was a little patch of woods that the deer had been headed for. It was a very small section in which the booming expansion of the city had not yet swept away the thick wood and brush along this busy road. Nicholas and Jeremiah reached the spot where the deer had entered on its collision roll into the foliage. They then trampled through the tall grasses and mud, turning up their collars to the biting cold winds. Darkness was quickly setting, especially under canopy of many trees. The heavy sounds of traffic spurred them on, as they replayed the whole scene in their minds. Finally they found its final resting place. The collision course ended for the adult doe into a large Cyprus tree trunk. She was trembling, fore legs flailing left and right seeking the strength to stand, not understanding the physics that prohibited it. She was shrieking a god-awful noise of agony when she wasn't gnashing her teeth. Steam rose from her open wounds, her bloodied and shattered legs. The smell of blood and piss permeated the immediate area. It was stifling for two brothers who had never seen or smelled the destruction of a living creature this size. Tears overtook them both. Jeremiah began to scream as they both escalated to all out crying.
 
Nicholas pulled at his hair as he sank to his knees. He closed his eyes tightly trying to shut out the painful image while he pounded the earth with his balled fists. Minutes passed before he composed himself to face the task ahead of him. Determination again infested his already austere composure. He crawled to the doe and mounted it, trying to restrain the horrified beast. Nick secured his knees across her left shoulder and chest then turned to his brother, "Jeremiah? Listen to me. Go back to the truck. Bring me a flashlight." Jeremiah stared blankly at his brother, and with a puffy tear soaked face he slowly nodded, unable to speak. He was gasping large gulps of air and shaking, cold and shocked.
 
Jeremiah innocently followed the path back to the road and the truck, in search of a flashlight that didn't exist. There was no way Nicholas was going to let his baby brother witness this. No sooner had Jeremiah left the clearing, Nicholas grabbed the doe's convulsing head, one hand on the foaming muzzle, the other cradled above the neck, right behind the ears. SNAP… SNAP! SNAP!
 
The doe fell limp in his hands. The tongue slid from the mouth. Her eyes, giant black marbles, stared emptily into his own greens. He lowered the head to the ground and fell over on top of her, curling into a sort of fetal ball. He held her cheek-to-cheek and sobbed crocodile tears onto her still warm head. He gently stroked his hand across the great body. His brother returned empty handed and saw Nicholas lying on the doe. He came and lay likewise on top of Nicholas, hugging him, protecting him…