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The First Time Lane Said No

by

Linda Beiver

The second time Lane ever saw snow; he was perched on a platform high in a tree in the woods behind his family’s cabin, waiting on deer. He was sitting in his practiced coma like trance in the deer blind, just barely breathing, when the first few flakes appeared. They were tiny, almost invisible, swirling down to the ground like feathers on the wind. Lane watched as the flakes got gradually bigger obscuring his vision and covering the ground. Snow was a rare occurrence in Georgia and Lane was tempted to put his gun down, climb out of the tree and scoop up a handful, taste it. But something bigger than his desire to taste snow compelled Lane to stay right where he was. He had promised his brother Ben he’d bring back a buck, and he knew better than to disappoint Ben.

Resisting the urge to shake the snow from his hands, Lane focused inwardly instead, letting his mind drift to the first time he’d seen snow. He was a young boy and Ben a teenager then, doing the after school yard work their mother had assigned them. Ben was raking leaves and Lane was on his way to the trash barrel with a large sack of them when the snow started falling.

"Ben!" Lane shouted excitedly, dropping his sack and running back toward the house.

Ben continued raking as if he hadn’t heard his brothers’ voice.

"Ben!" Lane gasped breathlessly as he approached his brother, "Don’t you see it?"

"What?" Ben grumbled.

Lane grabbed the rake out of Bens’ hand, forcing him to look up. "Snow, Ben! Snow!"

"So?" Ben replied, reaching for the rake.

Lane pulled the rake out of Bens’ reach, "I’ve never seen real snow before, Ben."

"Well, I have, boy, now give me that" Ben reached for the rake again.

Lane knew it wasn’t any use trying to hold on to the rake; Ben was twice his size. But he wasn’t going to give up, the flakes were bigger and falling faster now and Lane knew the ground would be covered soon. It would be their only chance to play before dark.

"Ben, look you don’t have to rake anymore, the snow will cover the leaves up soon," Lane said, pointing to the ground and rapidly disappearing leaves.

Ben glanced up at the sky as if he just realized it was snowing. Then he brought his gaze back to his brother. "Yeah, you got a point there, Lane. No use in raking," Ben said, picking up the rake and walking back toward the house.

Lane ran to catch up with him and grabbed his arm, "Ben, where you going? Don't you want to play in the snow?" he exclaimed.

Ben yanked his arm away and growled, "I’m sure we can find something in the house that needs doing. I’m not staying out here just to play with you. Come on."

Lane watched as Ben stomped off toward the house. He could feel the heat on the back of his neck that always gathered there when he was mad. No, he wanted to say. Just once he wanted to say, ‘No, Ben.’ But the words stuck in his throat. He was too little; Ben could just drag him inside no matter how loudly he protested. Lane took one last look at the beautiful white landscape and started for the house. Tomorrow it wouldn’t matter. Tomorrow the snow would be gone before noon.

Lane was pulled from his day dream when a deer appeared in the clearing below him. Slowly he brought the scope of the rifle to his eye and waited until the young buck was in the right position for a shot through the heart. The buck didn’t seem to know Lane was there, he was busy pawing at the new snow and backing up. Lane would have to until the buck got still again.

While the buck played, Lane was reminded of the last time he’d gone hunting with his brother. It was the year Lane turned twenty and to celebrate Ben had invited him to the family cabin to hunt deer. Both boys had been taught by their father to shoot at an early age and were excellent marksmen. Lane knew Ben wasn’t just celebrating his age but trying to find out if Lane was finally able to out shoot him. Early in the first day they tracked a deer until they were only fifty yards away. It was then Lane realized it was a doe.

"Ben," Lane whispered, "You know I don’t like shooting a doe. She may have a fawn depending on her."

"Do you see a damn fawn, boy?" Ben hissed, raising his rifle and taking aim.

"No--," Lane barely got the word out when Ben fired and the doe dropped like a bag of cement.

"There. Now let’s go…I’ll be damned," Ben swore softly as a small fawn appeared out of the trees and went to the lifeless body of its mother, "You were right, Lane."

Without taking his eyes off the fawn, Lane asked, "Now what, Ben?"

Ben moved closer to Lane and whispered in his ear, "You’re going to have to shoot the fawn; otherwise it’ll die of starvation."

"Why me?" Lane asked.

"Because I shot the doe. Now it’s your turn."

Lane knew Ben was testing him, and it made him angry that Ben was using the fawn to see if Lane could get a clean kill of such a small target that far away. It was true the fawn would starve but if Ben had only listened to him in the first place it wouldn't be necessary to kill it. He had to tell Ben no in a strong enough tone to make him know he meant it.

His gaze never leaving the fawn, Lane shook his head, "No. You shot the doe, you take the fawn too," he said in a loud whisper.

"Who do you think you’re talking to, boy? Now do what I said and hurry before the fawn goes back into the woods and we have to waste the rest of the day looking for it," Ben replied angrily, pushing Lanes’ gun up, trying to get his brother to take aim.

The fawn suddenly started bleating and nudging its mother to get up. The sound was awful and Lane couldn’t stand it, he put the scope up to his eye.

"Now!" Ben hissed from behind Lane, "Now, he’s going to get away!"

The fawns head jerked in Lanes’ direction. Lane knew it had heard them and was going to blot and run if he didn’t shoot. Before he had time to process this thought he’d already squeezed off the shot and caught the fawn in mid stride, a clean shot through the heart. The fawn fell lifelessly beside its mother.

In the same instant that a lifetime of anger churned in his stomach and threatened to spew up and out of his mouth, Lane felt his brothers’ hand slam into his back, "Damn, that was good shooting, boy. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone better. Let’s go get them," Ben said with a hint of awe in his voice.

Lane remained silent, gripped his rifle tightly and let Ben take the lead. That was the first time Ben had ever complimented him. At the same time he felt pride in making a good shot he experienced a twinge of regret. Why hadn’t he insisted Ben shoot the fawn? Was he ever going to get the courage to tell his brother no? Lane rubbed the hot spot on the back of his neck as he reluctantly followed Ben to where the deer lay.

The buck stood still in Lanes’ sites and he could get a clean shot if he squeezed the trigger now. He could hear the wind beginning to pick up, and the sound it made through leafless branches above him. He could feel the snow, so cold on his hands and face. His mouth was dry and his hands began to tremble. Again he wished he could just climb down from the blind and taste the snow. The wind became Bens’ voice, whispering, ‘Do it now, boy,’ over and over. Lane tensed and prepared to squeeze the trigger. The buck started to move, Lane was ready, ‘Do it,’ Bens’ voice rasped.

Watching the snow, Lane remained in the tree long after the buck had left the clearing. After a while, he lowered his gun and climbed down. When Lane reached the spot where the buck had been, he stood for a moment enjoying the quiet. Then he scooped up a handful of snow and tasted it. Clean crisp cold bit into his tongue. Lane laughed; it tasted exactly the way he’d thought it would. He took another bite. The air was growing thick with falling snow; the light was easing out of the day even though it was barely noontime. It occurred to Lane that the weather was making it impossible to hunt. He shivered, but not from cold, but with the sudden knowledge he’d have to face Ben without a buck. A sudden, slow smile creased his lips as he bent to gather up more snow, this time packing it tightly into balls. After he had quite a few, he placed them carefully in his backpack and started toward the cabin with a surprise for his big brother.

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