Gale's Window

Chapter 5: Waiting (II)

I was six years old the first time my father took me out into the woods. It was early spring, Rory was just a few months old and my old man decided it was time I started behaving like the older brother I was.

"Right now your brother is fragile and defenseless," he told me, "but, one day, he'll be big enough to go under the fence. When that day comes, you'll have to show him everything I'm about to show you."

"Me?" I wondered in amazement, "Why?" My surprise turned into suspicion, "Where will you be?"

My father shook his head and chuckled softly, "The same place I'm always at," he said. "I'll still be working in the mines from sunup 'till sundown. But you, you'll still be in school and you'll be able to help me train him."

I couldn't believe my ears! My father was going to share his knowledge with me!

I had always been curious about my dad's Sunday outings. I never knew where he went. I only knew that he disappeared as soon as the first rays of sunlight filtered through my bedroom window and that he always came back a few hours later, his hunting bag heavy with whatever he'd found that day.

I remember watching mesmerized as he pulled rabbits, badgers, birds, fish and even the occasional squirrel out of his satchel. I'll never forget the proud smile on his lips and the mischievous glint in his eyes as he presented these riches to his family; the satisfaction that tinted his voice when he asked my mother to clean up the day's haul.

The announcement made my heart flutter happily inside my chest. He was going to take me with him! He wanted to share his secrets with me and he expected me to pass them on to Rory someday.

I still couldn't believe it, so I asked, "Really?"

My father let out a deep chuckle before he confirmed, "mm-hmm, will that be alright with you?"

"Yes!" I answered enthusiastically, "I'll do it, dad! I'll help you train Rory when he's old enough."

"Good. Now, before you can even think about training anyone, you have to learn yourself. Are you ready?"

I straightened up and looked directly into his eyes. I was just a kid, but I felt like a grown man, tall, strong and proud as I said "ready."

Over the next few years, my father taught me everything he knew about the woods. By his side, I learned how to move noiselessly over the dampened leaves that covered the forest's floor, and to watch and analyze different creatures and their habits.

I learned that creating an effective snare was as much about understanding your prey's instincts as it was about the technical ability to build the traps themselves. I became aware of the fact that our own motivations were not that different from our prey's. In the end, it doesn't really matter if you're the hunter or the target. We all just want to survive and to protect our loved ones. Your success as a hunter depends on your ability to use this knowledge to your advantage.

I remember those Sundays with my father as some of the happiest days of my life. Being outside the fence filled me with a strong sense of pride that almost made me forget about the dreariness that surrounded every other aspect of our lives. By the time Vic was born, I had moved on from placing snares and collecting berries and was on my way to learning how to gut and dress an animal on the field.

For Rory's fourth birthday my father took me to the Hob and introduced me to Greasy Sae, and to some of the other vendors from the underground market. I remember walking next to him, trying to look as tall as he was while my small satchel, fat with that day's haul, banged against my hip with every step I took.