Family Traditions Read online

  ~o0o~

  They followed a trail of blood and broken branches for nearly fifteen minutes when Scott held up a hand and crouched down again. He slowly withdrew another arrow from his quiver and nocked it. Gerald got up next to his son and knelt down beside him.

  “Can you hear it?” Scott asked in a whisper.

  “Yeah, I hear it.”

  They listened to the sounds of something breathing heavily and shuffling through the undergrowth on the other side of a thick stand of bushes just ahead of them. The forest canopy above cast everything in a dim, murky light and left pockets of shadow clustered about like thick, dark cobwebs. Slowly and quietly, they made their way to the stand of bushes, parting them as silently as they could. Gerald squinted through the gloom, barely able to make out the obviously injured figure ahead of them. Scott stood up and in one fluid motion, took aim, drew his bow taut and released. The arrow, deadly and silent streaked through the air and with a wet thumping sound, connected with its target, driving it to the ground in a heap.

  “Hell yes!” Scott screamed and pumped his fist in the air. “Did you see that, dad? Did you see that?”

  A smile stretched from ear to ear and the feeling of pride that flooded his veins was surely a high that no drug could ever match. His son had done it. He'd become a man.

  “Yeah, I saw that,” Gerald said. “And we’re going to have to work on that technique.”

  “Hey, if there’s a problem with my technique, it’s your fault,” Scott replied. “You taught me everything you know, remember.”

  “Obviously, some lessons need to be repeated.”

  He clapped his son on the back and motioned for them to go over and inspect the kill. The broken shaft of one arrow stuck out of the meaty part of its thigh while one stood straight and true in the middle of its chest. It looked to have struck the heart, causing a near instant death and for that, Gerald was glad. The last thing he wanted was for his son to have to witness something thrashing about in its death throes. He knew from experience that the sight and sounds were ghastly. Gerald leaned down and pulled the arrow free from the chest and with a pair of pliers he’d taken from his belt pack, squatted down and pulled the broken shaft from the thigh. All the while Scott watched, wonder and fascination painted on his face. He wiped the blood from his hands as he remembered feeling much the way Scott did when he’d been in his place so many years ago. He remembered the feeling of accomplishment, the swell of pride and the rush of masculinity that had washed over him like a tsunami.

  “You know,” Gerald said. “In some Native American cultures, it’s considered an honor to cut out the heart and eat it.”

  “Yeah, that sounds nasty. Good thing we’re not Native American, isn’t it?” Scott replied with a laugh. “Raw meat isn't really my thing.”

  He put a hand on his son’s shoulder, looking him in the eye. “You did it. You’re a man, now,” he said, the tears welling up in his eyes. “I’m proud of you son. Very, very proud of you.”

  Scott wrapped his arms around him, hugging him tightly. “Thanks, pop.”

  After a few moments, they released each other. Scott nodded at the corpse lying in the dirt. “What do you think his name was?”

  Gerald looked down at the man lying in the dirt. The dead man wasn't much older than he was and had a thick head of salt and peppered hair. His dark eyes stood wide open, vacant and unseeing. He shrugged.

  “Doesn’t much matter,” Gerald said. “Your grandfather said it was just somebody coming through the mountain pass that had a flat. Can you imagine the luck? On your birthday of all days.”

  “I can’t wait to have a son of my own,” Scott said. “I’m going to teach him everything you’ve taught me. I'm going to take him out for his first hunt and then we'll come back so he can tell you all about his adventure.”

  Gerald smiled broadly, the emotion within him threatening to spill over.

  “I'd like nothing better, Scotty. But let's not rush things. You’ve got a few years yet for that,” he said and laughed. “For now, we need to get him skinned and cleaned pretty quick. Your Mom’s waiting on us and is going to make your very favorite dish when we get the carcass back. And of course, your grandfather is going to want to hear all about your big day. You can finally swap war stories with the old man.”

  Scott nodded, a large smile plastered upon his face. “I can't wait.”

  “Neither can he,” he said. “Believe me.”

  They knelt down beside the corpse, knives poised to start the field dressing when he noticed Scott looking at him.

  “What is it?” Gerald asked.

  “Nothing,” he said. “I just wanted to say that I love you, pop.”

  His eyes burned as they welled with tears and his heart felt like it would burst. He put a hand on his son's shoulder and looked him in the eye, a warm smile upon his lips.

  “I love you too, son.”

  If you liked this story, check out...

  From the Edge of Darkness

  You are cordially invited to take a trip to the Edge of Darkness. In his first collection of short stories, Kevin Saito presents you with thirteen terrifying and macabre tales that will make the shadows around you seem much darker and the movement in the corner of your eye infinitely more sinister. In "Tending the Flock," you will see the lengths that faith and devotion will drive a man to. "Tiebreaker" shows what happens when your family turns out to not be who - or what - you thought they were. Logic and reason only takes you so far in "Proof Positive" while in "One Shot Deal," you'll discover what desperation really looks like. Terrifying legends, paranormal horrors and the dark depths of human depravity... All of this and more awaits you within the pages of "From the Edge of Darkness." So step up, gaze into the abyss and see if the abyss truly does gaze back at you.

  Available through Amazon, Barnes&Noble and other fine retailers.

  About the Author

  Inspired by all the things that go bump in the night as well as a host of fantastically warped minds, Kevin Saito has been spinning stories since he was, as they say, knee high to a grasshopper. Born and raised all over Southern California, Kevin finally found a home in Long Beach, graduating from California State University Long Beach with a degree in History and had his sights set on teaching… Not the smartest move for somebody actually looking for a stable job these days. He is fascinated by history, politics, sports, travel and has an unhealthy obsession with Chinese food and sushi. After a long time away, Kevin returned to writing because it seemed about as stable career-wise as teaching but also as a means of staving off insanity. He’s dabbled in science fiction, fantasy and historical fiction but feels most comfortable lurking in the shadows where it’s easier to get people’s hearts racing and send shivers down their spines. And make them scream in terror. He really likes that.

  Kevin has a website and a Facebook page. If you'd like to read more of his work, please consider following him. His forthcoming novel Shattered Honor, will be available soon.