|The Owl (standard:other, 718 words)|
|Author: kendall thomas||Added: Apr 23 2003||Views/Reads: 2073/1||Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)|
|A group of old friends reminisce in a hunting lodge.|
The Owl by Twisted Wabbit Several old friends were seated around a glowing fireplace in a hunting lodge tucked away in the Canadian Rockies. They were sipping smooth whiskey and smoking thick, flavorable cigars. Occasional one would break the comfortable silence to reminisce about a past event that they all held in common. There would be chuckles and good-natured nodding of heads as he proceeded, and, when he had finished, someone else would elaborate on the remembrance to the general amusement of all. The stories had been recounted many times, over the years, but the group never tired of hearing them retold or of repeating them with slight variations here and there. Indeed, these reminiscences were the real reason these old friends came to the mountains every year. Hunting moose or elk, or whatever, was merely an excuse for these get-togethers. They would make a leisurely stroll along a nearby lake with their expensive shotguns and rifles slung over their shoulders, but rarely lifted them to shoot at anything. When they did accidentally happen upon the occasional game coming down out of the woods for a drink, they would invariably miss their shot, for in their declining years they had developed a sympathy and reverence for life that had been lacking in their youth. And although they would never say so aloud, this reverence had developed into an abhorrence of killing for sport. And so it was that their ‘hunting' was done mostly from their richly padded armchairs. As night gathered and stars filled the sky, the unaccented hoots of a horned owl came to them over the crackling of the fire. One of the men, handsome still, with a full head of thick, gray hair, had suddenly become despondent as the hooting fainted away. “Why, whatever's the matter, Rawlings?” a thick set man by the name of Vanicsek asked, noticing the change in his friend's countenance. “Oh, nothing really; it's just that the sound of that owl reminded me of an incident that happened many years ago, something that I've tried to forget.” This confession got everyone's interests and with some gentle prodding he was persuaded to tell what had happened. “Well,” he began,” when I was a child a school bully by the name of Allen Turly was always picking on me. One day he had me cornered on the playground and was about ready to hit me with his fist when a new student, by the name of Richard Hughes, came to my rescue and with one well-placed punch sent this bully fleeing. Thereafter, Richard and I were inseparable buddies. We even went to the same college and when the war in Nam broke out we were among the first to join up, serving in the same infantry outfit. One day , while on patrol, I was wounded in a skirmish and, risking his life, Richard lugged me out of the line of fire and back to our relief point seven miles away. I owe my life to him. A nobler man never lived. After our hitch was up we finished college. I became a lawyer and Richard a business man. I played the field when it came to women; while Richard, a romantic at heart, fell head over heels for a pretty, little southern belle by the name of Sally Ann. After they were married, I was always treated as a member of the family and was always going over for supper or a ball game on TV. One evening when I arrived at their home, somewhat out in the country, Sally Ann told me that Richard had flown to New York on business. There was nothing unusual about this, Richard was always flying somewhere promoting his software firm as it grew in size and importance. However, one thing led to another and late that night something woke me up while I was in bed next to Sally Ann. Then I heard what it was -- an owl hooting in the tree outside the window. Guilt-ridden, I got dressed and slipped out of the house. Later I learned that Richard had come back early from his business trip and would have discovered Sally Ann and me together had that owl not awaken me. I moved away shortly thereafter and never saw my friend again.” Tweet
Authors appreciate feedback!
Please write to the authors to tell them what you liked or didn't like about the story!
kendall thomas has 23 active stories on this site.
Profile for kendall thomas, incl. all stories