by Milo Abrams
their faces, he imagined the look of bewilderment the mother must've shown as she realized her partner was gone.
Nolan didn't make the connection, he just looked out the window blankly. "Hunter, probably," he shrugged.
"There are hunters around here?” James asked.
"Sure," Nolan replied," this property goes really far back, something like thirty acres or better. I wouldn't be surprised if hunters were wandering through those woods. The yard around the house is just a fraction of the property."
James opened his mouth to ask him why he decided to build a house in the country but he was quickly interrupted.
"Listen, I'm really sorry but that was work. They need me for a quick surgery. I promise I won't be too long. I'll bring back pizza for dinner, okay? Then tomorrow we can go out and grab some binoculars.”
This was a common occurrence in James's life. He felt like he hardly knew his dad because he spent most of his time at the hospital. In a way, it created an opening for a sort of independence to grow in James to be his own man. Standing there in his dad's brand new house in the middle of nowhere, Nolan looked at him for some sort of confirmation and it made James squirm. Ever since the separation, Nolan seemed more like a buddy than a father. He stared at his son, waiting for permission to go, even though James had no choice in the matter.
"Sure, I'll just explore the grounds, sir," James said, breaking the awkward silence and saluting him in his best soldier fashion.
Nolan smiled, "It'll be good for you to get outside and away from the TV."
James watched him leave from the porch, waiting until he was out of sight before wandering back into the house to snoop around. The house was very open, which contributed to the sense of freedom he felt. He was completely alone and free to do whatever he wanted for at least a few hours, but the lack of supervision left him with no idea of what really to do. He wandered around looking at the place his dad had built. It wasn’t a bachelor pad with its four bedrooms, all of which were also spacious. It had two elegantly decorated bathrooms and was furnished with the types of things that seemed very unmanly. It was almost as if James's mom had decorated the inside.
He threw himself on the couch and bounced around a little. He could do anything and no one would know, so he jumped up and down across the cushions howling like a wolf. At the end of his elongated howling, he caught his breath with wandering eyes to make sure no one had heard him. Of course no one did, he was in the middle of the empty countryside where neighboring houses sat at least a mile apart. Laughing at his foolishness, he turned on the TV only to find out there was no signal. After investigating all the cables and the solid oak TV stand, he realized there was no active cable hook-up. Watching TV was out, but next to the TV stand was a thick stack of magazines. He picked one up.
“Deer Master, huh?” It was an odd magazine to find in his dad’s house, as far as he was concerned, and after a minute of flipping through the pages and looking at all the hunting equipment, supplies, and pictures of deer, he threw it back onto the pile.
Normally, James would let his father have his privacy, but the unusually large stack of hunting magazines made him wonder if his dad was hiding anything. For as long as he had known him, which was his whole life, Nolan Callum was only really interested in one thing: work. The hospital was his life and lifeline for keeping food on the table. He hadn't become a doctor without genuinely being interested in it. It wasn’t the sort of profession a person could or should take lightly, and Nolan didn't. He put everything into being the best doctor he could be, often sacrificing more than he should have for complete strangers.
James wandered into his dad’s room. It was too neat and orderly for an avid woodsman. The dirty and wild characteristics of hunting clashed with the near-sterile neatness of his father’s bedroom. Maybe the cleaning habits had carried over from work, but it was how James had always known him to be.
Nothing around the room seemed out of the ordinary. The bed was even neatly made with the comforter tightly tucked to the mattress. The only place out of sight was the closet. As soon as he pulled the closet door open it became apparent that there were some things his father wasn't telling him. Propped up against the wall, as far from the clean and crisp shirts he had just hung up as possible, were two rifles and a pair of muddy boots just like the ones he had seen in the magazines.
Apparently, Dr. Nolan Callum was a hunter. The irony that he worked so hard to save lives, while simultaneously taking them in his spare time hadn't occurred to James. His twelve-year-old mind was more of a creek than an ocean—it just wasn't that deep.
James closed the closet and left this revelation to rest. All that was left to do was to explore outside.
“Over thirty acres, huh?" he asked himself. The idea was daunting and James was too much of a city boy to go wandering through the trees alone without the certainty of getting lost. He remembered seeing a huge barn on the other side of the driveway and decided he'd start his exploration there.
He stopped in the kitchen to grab a bottle of water and as he twisted it open he happened to look out the window into the backyard. Along the tree line sat the blurry gray figure again. He stared at it for a minute, frustrated that the sheer distance made even squinting useless. It was at that moment he noticed that his dad’s laptop was sitting on the table in the kitchen, still flipped open. "Yes!" he yelled.
Surfing the Internet was second nature for him. In an instant, he had the browser up and was ready to search the wealth of the World Wide Web for an answer. He looked out the window again and saw the gray mystery sitting in the same spot, taunting him with its stillness.
“What the hell are you?” he thought aloud. Speaking his thoughts helped him to organize them. "Could it be just a rock? No, I saw it get up and move." He scratched his head unconsciously, mimicking the traditional thinking gesture while his mind started to flip through the catalogue of every Ohio animal he could think of. He counted them out in his head as he searched. Bears, bobcats, coyotes, and wolves. Wait, wolves! His dad had told him that the woods were deep and all sorts of different animals could be wandering back there. As children, the line between fear and danger is even more blurred than it is for adults, and so the thought of wolves and deer wandering in the backyard was thrilling to James. He had never seen a wolf except for on TV and nothing on TV actually seemed real. His mind lured him into thinking about how he could lure the wolf back for a better look.
"Maybe it's hunting the deer!" he yelled in revelation.
He had never really been alone for any length of time, and if he was, there was always some way to communicate with other people. Out there though, he was isolated. Talking to himself was the best socialization he had aside from a bloody handprint on a volleyball or drawing a face onto his water bottle.
He looked back into the yard for the wolf but it was gone. From that moment, his plan was in motion. He had to find a way to lure deer into the yard to lure the wolf back. Sick and twisted as it may have seemed to lure deer toward death just so he could see a wolf, James was young and the country was too wild and beautiful for him to resist. The only way he could think to lure an animal was with food. If the deer was going to be the wolf bait, then he needed bait for the deer. Problem was, he had no clue what deer ate. Being strictly a city kid, the only thing he knew how to feed, other than himself, was his dog, Duffy.
He scoured through the cupboards and fridge looking for something a deer might eat. Turning up empty handed and defeated, he slumped back into the chair without a clue. He thought back to watching Bambi, but it was no use. Just as he was about to abort his mission in favor of something that took considerably less effort, the phone rang.
“Hello?” James answered softly.
"James," the voice boomed through the receiver.
"Oh, hey Dad."
"I just wanted to call before I head back in. The surgery went faster than expected, but a big accident just rolled in and the ER is short staffed."
"Aren't they always?"
James asked.
Nolan laughed. "I just wanted to check up on you."
"Hey Dad, do you have any idea what deer eat?"
"What?" James could hear the background chatter picking up now. "Well I guess they eat all sorts of things, why?"
"I was thinking about trying to lure them into the yard so I could get a better look."
The pride oozed from Nolan's voice. "Man, James, what a great idea! I think there are some apples in the bottom of the fridge. You should build a deer feeder and put it out back."
"How do I do that? Can't I just throw them on the ground?"
"Well you could, but then they'll rot more quickly. It'll also keep smaller animals off the apples. Try finding something to put them in and cutting them up. I've got a stack of hunting magazines next to the TV. Look in there for some inspiration. Listen, I have to go. I'll see you with pizza, okay?"
"Sure thing," James said.
"Love you, bye!" Nolan hung up. It was weird for James to hear him say that. It seemed that since the separation his father had become a lot more affectionate toward him. A good thing, he supposed. He flipped through a few of his dad’s magazines to get the general idea of what a deer feeder looked like and then decided he would improvise the rest.
On the other side of the driveway was the barn. Every time James had ever imagined a
