The Good 'ol Days

My long days of grueling labor had finally come to an end and my masterpiece was complete. I had spent the last two weeks brainstorming, planning, and building the most magnificent fort anyone had ever seen. This was no easy task, especially as a lone architect and contractor. I was very familiar with the layout because I had spent almost every day for the last two weeks putting this beautiful work of art together. Yet, at the same time, it felt as if I had stepped into a whole new world. The finished product was better than anything I could have ever hoped for.

For the rest of the summer, this structure served many purposes. For a few days it was an army base where I fought off aliens with laser blasters and grenades. Later it turned into a hunting cabin in Alaska that I used while hunting grizzly bear. Man did that bear rug look awesome sprawled across my floor. Sometimes it would even drop into the ground as if it were on an elevator and I would relax in my secret bunker, away from every worry in the world. As far as I was concerned, this was my home. Except for at night. At night it would lay abandoned, there was a force out there I couldn't see but if I ever went out there I could feel it creep all the way down to by bones. When the sun slept it was only a false beacon of hope lurking in the woods waiting for the sun to wake up the next morning, so it could it could be inhabited once again. this structure of leaning branches and chopped down limbs, that was tied down by old bailer twine, was my safe haven that only a select few were allowed to enter.

It was peak wolverine season in Alaska and I was just about to add one more to the body count. I'd been tracking a monster wolverine for about three days now and I finally had him in sight. I had to be real sneaky with this one, it knows what's coming and there is no way I'm going to let him get away this time. I snuck around a tree and loaded a round in my hunting rifle. I slowly lifted my gun and placed that suckers heart right in the middle of my cross hairs. I inhaled slowly and quietly, put my finger on the trigger, and as I was exhaling, milliseconds away from pulling the trigger I heard a screech coming through the woods "Randall!!! Randaaalll, there's someone here to play with you!!" I quickly looked over my shoulder and then back through the scope. There was nothing there. It had gotten away this time, but I knew I would be another shot.

I sprinted through the woods and toward the house. I didn't remember inviting anyone over to play but even if I had its hard to remember when you're trying to survive the great Alaskan frontier. As I got to the house I saw a minivan pulling out of our drive way. I analyzed it but unfortunately, I couldn't make any connections. I stomped through the front door and I saw Dylan sitting on my couch. I knew him from church, but we weren't exactly friends. I looked over at my mom with a curious look on my face. She looked over at me and told me the situation. Dylan's Father had been diagnosed with cancer a few weeks before and they had to go to the hospital to start treatment, so Dylan stayed behind. We didn't hit it off right away because Dylan wanted to stay inside and watch TV, but I knew that wolverine was still out there, and Dylan could be of some use. If he didn't want to hunt, he could at least be bait or something.

After he finished our lunch I finally convinced him to come outside with me. We made it the fort in the woods and to say the least, Dylan was impressed. I gave him the grand tour which took a whole 20 seconds and then we went outside to check the arsenal. I showed him everything I had, I could tell it was a little overwhelming, so I made the decision for him and gave him my 8th favorite gun. I was cautious about telling him about my hunting trip because I didn't want to give the chance to take this thing down all by myself. It was because of that or maybe because I was afraid he would think I was weird. Either way, after we sat around for about 15 minutes without much action I made the decision and I updated him on the wolverine situation. He was pumped! I wasn't sure what kind of guy Dylan was, but if his real passion for killing this wolverine was even half of what he was letting on, I knew this was going to be a successful hunt.