Doors, Part 3 - Rabbit

I keep walk down the hill, my hands pushed deep in the pockets of my leather jacket. They're big, which I like; this is a jacket made for someone who wants to carry all the important things with them, just in case. You never know when you'll need some string or a matchbox or a fish hook. It also keeps my hands warm, which is nice, as the mittens are already pretty worn out.

Maybe I should finally knit a new pair. I've asked Mom several times if she could just make them for me, but she keeps saying that I am old enough to knit them myself. Which would be fine if I was even a little good at knitting. But it's so boring and the wool yarn gets tangled and too tight and sweaty in my hands and then even more tangled. I guess I'll have to do it at some point, but not yet. These work just fine still, there's only one hole in the thumb so far.

Further down the hill I notice something. Fresh tracks across the path. A rabbit, and a large one at that, has recently hopped its way up the hill. I stop immediately and crouch to be less visible. I follow the tracks with my eyes, and then I see it, eating bark from a fallen aspen further into the forest. It hasn't noticed me yet, somehow, the crunch of the bark clearly too loud as it munches away.

Slowly I reach behind me for the bow on my back, and then an arrow from the quiver. I set the arrow to the string. I draw. Take a deep breath. A good aim, right at its heart. Then I reconsider. It will hear me when I release and have a fraction of a second to jump. I aim again. Another deep breath.

Twang

The arrow goes through the rabbit's chest. A short exclamation of glee escapes me as I start to make my way towards it. I am quite proud of my shot, for having to foresight to aim a bit next to it. I'm glad too. I don't want anyone suffer.

The rabbit is big, which was obvious, and healthy, which I can see when I start to gut it. It'll make a good meal for us. A very lucky meal! Rabbits are quite rare up this north, there's really only hares around these parts. What brought this animal here, I wonder as I remove the gall bladder from the liver, careful so it does not spoil the taste.

Wait.

There is something in there. Something small and hard. I dig my fingers into the guts and produce a stone, dark green but translucent. A very bad meal for a rabbit, I think, turning it in my hand for a bit. It's quite pretty though. I pull out my matchbox and place it in so I don't lose it. Then I finish pulling the rest of the guts out and leave them in the forest for foxes and crows so that nothing goes to waste.

I had to wash the blood off my hands in the snow, and now they are freezing. My mittens really don't help much, and I can only have one hand in a pocket at once, since I have to carry the rabbit with the other. I breathe in the cold air. It's getting late, the sun is about to set.

I start to jog, and then run. Usually I walk slow and enjoy my time in the forest, but I am no longer in the mood.

~x~

"Mom, I'm back!" I shout as I step through the door. She turns toward me with smiling face and steps away from the fireplace. A delicious smell wafts from the pot hanging over the flame.

"Welcome home," she says and then notices the rabbit. "My, what have you got there? Was there a hare in one of the snares?" She looks pleased when I raise it.

"It's a rabbit. A big one. And I shot it."

"Good for you. A rare animal and big indeed." She nods approvingly and then says, "If you were a fine lady, you could make a beautiful muff out of it."

I roll my eyes. "Luckily I am not," I say with a sneer. But I will make something out of the hide. It is too soft for me not to.

"Well, you should leave it there for now. It's time to eat," she says and lifts the pot off the flame. I leave the rabbit on the side table and start to walk towards the dinner table. Mom clears her throat. "Go wash your hands, Charlie," she says.

"Right," I say and hurry to comply.

We all sit around the long table, Dad at the end, mom next to me and Jack across. The soup is hot but delicious, just as it always is. I slurp it down noisily, because that makes it taste more. I can't wait to taste the rabbit though, I hope Mom makes something good with it. This outing turned out really good after all. Which reminds me...

"Oh yeah, something funny today," I say cheerily. "When I was coming back down from the Cliff Boulder, there was a door on the path. Well, not a door-door, but like a door frame without the door, so I thought that it might be a magical... door... and... I..."

I start to trail off as I watch Dad's face shift. He stops eating. His hands start shaking. I swallow. Mom looks extremely serious, her face as pale as a sheet.
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The topic for tomorrow is Foreigner.