One more time

 

There was a slight chill in the air as I crawled out of my warm bed. Weak sunlight came through the bedroom window and cast shadows across the room. As I rose to my feet, a nagging cough racked my body, and it took several seconds to catch my breath.

I walked into the kitchen and started a small fire in the stove to heat up the last of the coffee.  I had run out of food and couldn’t remember the last time I had eaten. My stomach was beginning to think my throat had been cut and my ribs were hugging my backbone.  My thick coat that fit tight across my chest a few short months ago was now just hanging off my shoulders. My partner, Jim Wingo, was long overdue from his trip to the settlement to pick up supplies.

I had been bed ridden with either a flu or pneumonia for a couple of weeks, but today I felt a lot better, and planned to get out and find me a nice plump deer or hog.

I took up my rifle and stepped out the cabin door. A slight shiver passed through my thin body as a brisk, north wind ruffled my beard and the sun ducked behind a dark bank of clouds. The clouds hung low in the sky, and I was sure it would rain soon. Every hunter knows when the weather is like this, animals stay in their beds and it’s hard for find anything. Nevertheless, I had no choice. I was desperate for food.

I walked into the woods, crossed a creek, and eased into a nearby river bottom where I had found game before. I hunted for over an hour before I saw a flicker of movement ahead of me. I eased down into a crouch and presently, a small deer slipped from behind a bush and started to eat acorns.

I moved downwind from the deer and got in a perfect location to take my shot. I sighted down the gun barrel and gently squeezed the trigger when another cough caused me to jerk. My bullet knocked bark from a tree limb at least ten foot over the deer. It jerked it’s head up and looked around as if to see what all the noise was about. When I jacked another bullet into the chamber, it spun around and bounded off before I had a chance at another shot.

The clouds grew darker as the weather that had been threating all day approached. As I lifted my face skyward, a drop of cold rain landed on my forehead, and not long after, the storm hit with a fury. The thunder sounded like someone was beating a drum, rain pounded me, and the wind started to whip the trees. Within minutes, I was soaked through and through and was about frozen, so I reluctantly turned for home.

My coat weighted me down and provided little protection against the wind. It was hard to walk as the mud got slick and clung to my boots. It was an effort to breath, and I could hardly see in front of me through the sheets of rain. My floppy hat did little to shield my face from the raindrops, as I rushed along.

I wasn’t paying attention to where I stepped, and my boot came down awkward on a loose rock. It rolled under me, and I fell. A sudden burst of pain shot up my leg and took my breath away. As I lay still trying to catch my breath, I forced myself to remain calm and wondered just how much trouble was I in?

As I ran my hand down my leg, I was relieved nothing felt broken. But, when I touched my right ankle, I felt an excruciating stab of pain and a bolt of fear shot through my heart. I was weak from hunger and sickness, far from home, and almost frozen. I didn’t think my ankle was broken, but in my case, there wasn’t much difference between a broken ankle and a severe ankle sprain. Any way I looked at it, I was in deep trouble.

Between the pain and the exhaustion, I just wanted to lay there. Instead, I got mad and got over the urge to feel sorry for myself. I struggled to my knees and was able to grab a limb and pull myself to my feet. When I applied pressure to the injured foot, the pain almost took my breath away and I gritted my teeth to stifle a loud groan. It was obvious that I was not going to travel very fast on that ankle.

I used my rifle as a crutch and cringed with each step as I slowly hobbled towards home. My ankle was bright red, throbbed and had swollen to twice it’s normal size. I loosened my boot laces as much as possible, but it was still tight and hurt.

The altered stride caused the muscles in my lower back to cramp which forced me to stop and rest often. I really wanted to sit down but doubted I could get up again. Each time I forced myself to move, and it was a struggle to keep going.

I hobbled on, and what felt like hours later as I was about to fall over from fatigue and feared I had lost my way that fortune finally smiled down on me. I glimpsed a shape through the tops of the trees, and it was the roof of my cabin.

It took me at least 15 more minutes before I stumbled through the door. I barely made it inside before I collapsed and lay on the floor while a blazing fever consumed me. Not only was I burning up, but it also hurt to breath, my head felt fuzzy, and the deep, painful coughs felt like they were ripping my lungs apart.

Extreme exhaustion crawled over me like a warm blanket, and as my eyes slowly closed, I prayed, oh God, just let me see the sun…one… more……...time.

Just before darkness overtook me, I heard, “David Earl Little, I’m not going to tell you again, get up this minute, and get ready for school!”