My Friend, The Opponent: Chapter II

Chapter II: Claude 25 September, 1967

On the other side of the fields, a 1953 DeSoto FireDome Convertible was pulling up along a dirt road leading up to an old log cabin. A gruff twenty-year-old was sitting on the porch, lighting a cigarette. He stood up to see the convertible stop and an old man hop out. The old man had an unshaven face and was wearing a broken straw hat and overalls.

         

He waved his wrinkled hand to the twenty-year-old. "Afternoon, Cletus," he barked.

         

Cletus nodded gratefully to the old man. "Afternoon, Uncle Archie," he said.

         

The door on the other side of the convertible opened and a tiny boy peered from around the front of the convertible shyly.

         

Archie laughed and pulled the boy by his shirt collar towards him. The boy let out a yelp, but didn't try to pull away. He gazed nervously at Cletus.

         

"Ah, Cletus," said Archie hardily, "meet your cousin, Claude."

         

Cletus glared at Claude for a long while before muttering, "What's he a'doin' here?"

         

"I'm goin' to train him to be a hunter like me. He's my new apprentice."

         

Claude looked as though he was going to protest, but shied away under Cletus's evil stare. He scooted closer to Archie.

         

Archie pushed the shy boy away from him and chuckled. "First rule of bein' a hunter, Claude, is that you can't be afraid of anythin'," he said. He patted the boy's shoulder and walked up the squeaky steps to the front porch. He turned to Cletus and murmured, "Keep and eye on that boy." Then he walked into the log cabin.

         

Claude walked onto the porch, flinching at the squeaks from the steps, and sat down on the weathered wood by Cletus's rocking chair. He gazed at Cletus silently.

         

The twenty-year-old puffed a cloud of smoke and sighed. "How'd you wind up here with ol' Uncle Archie?" he asked.

         

Claude looked at the weathered porch nervously. "Mom said I needed to learn how to be a hunter." Cletus noticed he had a strong southern accent, almost stronger than Archie's. "So she wrote to Uncle Archie to get me and teach me."

         

The twenty-year-old puffed another cloud of smoke. He believed there was much more to the story than the kid was letting on, but he didn't press the issue any longer. Instead he changed the subject.

         

"You ready for your first huntin' lesson?"

         

Claude nodded vigorously. "Yup," he said.

         

The two sat on the weathered porch and watched the sun rise and set, the twenty-year-old puffing smoke and the seven-year-old drawing shapes with his finger. It was a beautiful sight to see.