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🕑 Added 2024-12-16 03:57:41 +0000 UTCWind in the Smoke
Chapter 56 - Hunting Season
Beth woke up the next morning in significantly better condition than when she had arrived home.
Having Scud, a warm little puppy, sleeping with her on the bed—curled up against her back or at her feet—was incredibly comforting.
Only once, in the middle of the night, did she suddenly feel alert.
At that moment, Scud leaped off the bed and ran to the living room, facing the front door. His tail was stiff and bristling, and a low growl rumbled from his throat.
After a moment, a faint sound echoed. Scud sniffed the air, relaxed, and his tail began to wag slightly.
Beth opened the curtains and saw a pickup truck zooming by in the distance, its headlights flickering across the ground.
When the door opened the next morning, Dante was on the first step of the porch, putting on his cowboy boots. He rested one arm on his thigh while holding a rifle case with the other.
“I guess I owe you an apology.”
Beth sat in the recliner, rocking the chair forcefully on its toes, sipping coffee, and raising an eyebrow, waiting for him to continue.
Dante pursed his lips. “Well, we know arguments are common in this family, but I didn’t realize why you were upset when I got home.”
“Was I upset?”
Dante sighed. “You’re really not going to give me any leeway, are you? Can’t you let this go for your favorite brother?”
Beth remembered everything her brother had done for her, even knowing he blamed himself, in some way, for their mother’s death. She believed Dante didn’t blame her simply because she had no memories of their mom.
But regardless of what she thought, Dante genuinely loved her as a little sister he needed to protect, even if he was the younger one.
“Do you want some coffee? I made more.”
Dante smiled, relief and joy showing on his face, and followed his sister into the cabin. “I needed a break, but Dad called me. He said if you wanted, you could join the open house for hunting season this morning, and then we could grab lunch. That’s what I needed after last night’s drinks.”
“Hunting? What kind of animal?” Beth asked curiously, gripping the fabric bag near the coffee maker tightly before setting it on the counter.
“Mallards, of course—ducks,” Dante replied, clearly wanting his sister to come along.
Dante picked up a few bags he had packed earlier for the hunting day. “Be nice to Kayce. It took me a lot to convince him to join us.”
Beth leaned forward, giving her younger brother a sharp look. “Are you afraid your silly sister will ruin this special moment you worked so hard to create?”
“Stop.” Dante raised his hands in mock surrender. “I trust you’ll behave, sis.”
“Then I’ll go, as long as my cowboy brothers don’t mind.” Beth poured coffee into a travel mug, handing it to Dante while giving him a sidelong glance.
Dante took a sip, noting it tasted a bit different from other coffee. It had a nutty flavor with a hint of something he couldn’t identify, but overall, it was pretty good.
“The company I work for sends me pounds of coffee beans every month—a basic strategy to keep me awake and glued to remote work all the time.”
Beth smiled, glanced at the dog on the couch, and added, “Thanks for lending me Scud yesterday. He’s an excellent watchdog. And thank you for inviting me!”
Dante looked back at Scud, who was sprawled on the couch with his legs stretched out, snoring softly. He nodded at his sister’s words and said, “Yeah, he’s a good dog. If you want him as a companion while you’re home, you can keep him.”
…
In the hunting pavilion, camouflaged from view, Dante was still a bit distracted, picking at weeds on the windowsill with his fingers.
Lee scanned the nearby marsh through binoculars, looking for wild ducks.
A duck blind could only hold two people, so Beth ended up with Lee , who was more experienced in these matters.
Lee put down the binoculars, his eyes widening as he spotted a nearby spot where a duck’s “quack-quack” echoed softly. “Today, you’ll be our meal,” he whispered.
He picked up a double-barreled shotgun, squinted, and pulled the trigger.
Bang!
The shot echoed, white smoke puffing from the barrel, but the shot missed its mark.
The gunfire startled the nearby ducks, and Dante could only lift his binoculars to search for another target.
Each U.S. state has its own independent hunting regulations and inconsistent licensing requirements. Hunting isn’t something one can just do at will.
Local residents could get upland bird hunting licenses for as little as $7.50 a year. Although Dante didn’t hunt often, he kept his license renewed.
Last night, he had used his phone to review this year’s Upland Game Bird Regulations on the official website.
Ordinary wild ducks typically aren’t on the protected list, especially common species. Hunting them is even encouraged by officials.
Suddenly, a bright green flash caught his eye.
A few ducks glided gracefully across the water and landed nearby.
The head of the large male duck leading the group gleamed brightly in the sunlight, with remnants of crops clinging to the corners of its beak—enough to make any farmer curse.
The northern mallard, the most common duck species, can be found along all migration routes. Only males carry the iconic mallard plumage.
They love to forage in nearby fields, causing havoc. Fortunately, their meat is quite delicious, making them a popular hunting target.
Dante set down the binoculars, aimed the shotgun, and carefully calculated the perfect moment to shoot.
The wild ducks swam closer, pausing to preen their feathers in the water.
Dante held his breath, his heartbeat quickening.
Suddenly, the lead male duck raised its head alertly, looking up.
Now.
Dante aimed at the bright green head and gently squeezed the trigger.
Time seemed to freeze, and only the sound of his heartbeat filled his ears.
The shot rang out, and the duck fell.
The surrounding ducks scattered in a flurry of wings and splashes.
Dante snapped his fingers. “Scud, fetch!”
The dog obediently bolted out the door.
“Got it! Well done!” John exclaimed, thrilled that Scud, untrained for hunting, was performing so well.
James, meanwhile, walked to a cooler, grabbed an empty paper bag, and called out, “Hey, who ate my peanut butter banana sandwich?”
“Not me,” Dante said, patting his pants pocket and shaking his head. Then, with a sly grin, he added, “I just took a bite and tossed the rest when I felt full.”
“Tossed what? Stop talking to me!” James balled up the empty paper bag and angrily tossed it to the ground.
“Alright, alright!” Dante pulled the remaining sandwich from his pocket and took a bite. “Oh, look what I found.”
He shoved it into his mouth, prompting James to lunge for him in frustration.
“Ah! Ah! Don’t pull my hair!”
“No way!”
“Fine, you asked for it!” Dante tackled his brother, and the two crashed into a patch of weeds.
John glanced at his sons brawling and then looked at Lee before turning back to search for another duck.
“Aren’t you going to stop them?”
“They won’t kill each other.”
From a distance, Beth murmured to Rip, “Good thing Kayce canceled at the last minute.”
“Yeah, this is definitely not a good vibe,” Rip agreed.
