A Redneck's Wicked Game (A Daryl Dixon Story)

As Redneck As You Can Get

Chapter 47—As Redneck As You Can Get

A few Days later

Rowan's POV

I step out into the chilly morning air and zip up my jacket. I pull a cigarette out of my pack and light it up as I gaze out into the distance. The sky is gray and overcast and I mumble to myself, "Damn, just when I was hoping for spring." I can smell the coldness in the air and I know with the temperatures dropping this way that we are in for some late spring snow. I was hoping that we'd seen the last of winter because of the warm days we've had the last couple of weeks. I exhale another drag of my cigarette and shift my feet a little, listening to the crackling of the frost covered grass under my boot. My fingertips are cold and I put the cigarette to my lips before rubbing my cold hands together. Daryl walks up beside me, handing me my gloves; his raspy voice breaking the silence, "I thought ya might need these." I nod as I take the gloves from him and slip them on my cold hands, "Thanks, I think we may see some snow before the day ends." He looks up at the sky and mutters, "Think we'll git much?" I shrug, "Probably just a dusting but I missed the weather report on the evening news." He gives me a long look and rolls his eyes, "Sassy-ass girl." I grin, "Come on Dixon, lets go hunting." He shoulders his bow as he crushed out his cigarette butt with his boot, following me across the field to the trees. We're quiet as we walk into the woods, looking for tracks and listening for critters. I stop when we reach the fence line and turn to him, "Ya want somethin' bigger than a possum?" He shakes his head, "Not today, we got plenty of deer in the smokehouse, no sense bringing down more than we can use. I just wanted to git out for a while." I nod in agreement and grin, "Sure ya didn't want some squirrel so I'd cook it up for ya?" He gives me a smirk, "Well I was hoping you'd make some of that Southern Fried Squirrel ya made a while back." I chuckle, "So the point of all this was to git some of my cooking?" He gives me a sheepish look, "Kind of." I nudge his shoulder, "Well let's get hunting then, I'll need a bunch of squirrels if I'm gonna feed everyone."

I put my gloves in my pocket and pull an arrow from my quiver, nocking it back in my compound bow as we scan the trees for the fuzzy little varmints. Daryl walks ahead of me and I watch him move quietly through the leaves and twigs scattered on the forest floor. I follow his lead, keeping an eye out for dinner. It doesn't take long for us to find a couple of squirrels playing in the tree branches. Even though the day is cold, these animals know that spring is right around the corner and they are active. Daryl motions to the squirrel on the left and I nod, taking aim on the one towards the right. I pull back my bowstring, concentrating on the animal jumping through the branches, all other thoughts pushed out of my mind. My squirrel hesitates on the end of tree limb, readying it's self for the leap to the next tree when I release my arrow. My aim is good and the arrow pierces the furry little gray body, knocking it to the forest floor. I look over and see Daryl fetching his kill off the ground. He holds up his crossbow bolt with the squirrel skewered to it with a proud look. I smile and hold up my kill, nodding at his accomplishment. I pull the arrow from the rodent as he does the same to his before tying them to the thin rope to carry them easier. Daryl throws the squirrels over his shoulder and we walk further down the fence line towards the back of the property.

The rest of morning progresses like this, walking quietly through the trees; keeping our conversations down to hand gestures and small smiles. Our mood is lighthearted and peaceful; its days like this that I want to remember forever. I get three more squirrels and he bags four, as we walk through the trees we keep an eye out for more. I want to make sure we have plenty of squirrels for dinner because Daryl will pig out on this dish if there's enough. Of all the things I cook, this is the one thing he actually begs me for. It's not a hard dish to make but it is a comfort food. I make a batter like you would for fried chicken and once the squirrel is dipped and fried, I smother it in Country gravy. I grew up eating like this; simple food with lots of flavor and tons of calories. It may not be healthy but when you spend the day doing manual labor, there ain't no way it will make you fat. It will probably clog your arteries but at least you'll die happy.