The Finale

The closer she got to that spot in the fencerow, the louder the noise became. It sounded like something was trying to escape.

She looked through the brush and came face to face with a wild-eyed buck.

He had tried to jump the fence into the field. For whatever reason, the deer had gotten caught on the barbed wire.

She didn’t know how to get him untangled from the wire. There was blood trickling down its legs. Then she noticed one of its legs had a deformity, indicating a broken bone.

The more the deer struggled, the worse it got. It was evident there was no recovery for this animal. Considering that it was dangerous to get near a wounded animal, she concluded there was only one option. She didn’t want this animal to suffer.

She shouldered the rifle.

Henry looked up quickly from where he had sunk the axe into the timber. Had he heard a gunshot?

That was close, probably on the farm, and he was sure it came from the direction of the house.

He dropped the axe and started running.

She lowered the rifle. Henry and Beatrice firmly believed that an animal’s life was only to be taken for a purpose. They only killed what they intended to eat.

She went to the house and retrieved a long, sharp knife. When she got back to where the deer rested on the fence, she began the process of extraction.

Henry topped the ridge, running at full speed. He saw his wife kneeling on the ground by the fencerow. He didn’t see anyone else.

He stopped and called out to her, and she stood up and turned around.

Her hands and apron were covered in blood.

He screamed, “Beatrice!” He kicked his legs into high gear.

She noticed the look of shock and fear on his face. In a split second, she had an idea. She cried out, dropped to one knee, and clutched at her stomach with both hands.

He slid on his knees the final three feet and grabbed her shoulders as she cried out in pain.

“Beatrice!” He cried, “Dear God! Please help us. Please help my baby!”

Then he saw the deer hanging from the fence, a slice down the length of its belly, entrails on the ground. Confused, he looked at his wife. Her cries of pain turned to fits of laughter.

He let go of her shoulders and stood up. “Bea.” The desperation in his voice was replaced by emotionless, unamused disapproval.

She fell over on the ground, still laughing. He looked at the deer, then back at her.

“What is going on?” He demanded.

Between bellows, she explained being over by the well and noticing something off by the fence. So she grabbed the rifle and came out to check on it. And how she put the animal out of its misery. But now, they could have several meals from it.

He shook his head. “I was gettin’ kind of tired of rabbit stew.”

“Well, help me with this deer, and tonight, we can have deer stew.”

That night, they feasted like kings and queens. And they were grateful for the provision.

to Henry and Beatrice,
– Caleb