Chapter 8

           AsachildIhuntedandkilledsmallcreatureswithenergyandjoy.Rabbitsandsquirrels,smallbirds,andlaterducksandwildgeesecamecrashingdown,rumpleddistortionsofboneandbloodandfurandfeathers.Therewasasavagecreativenessaboutitwithouthatredorrancororguilt.Thewarretiredmyappetitefordestruction;perhapsIwaslikeachildoverindulgedinsweets.Ashotgun’sblastwasnolongerashoutoffiercehappiness.

           Inthisfirstspringabouncingpairofrabbitspaiddailyvisitstoourgarden.TheylovedbestmyMary’scarnations,atethemdowntorawcrowns.

           "You’llhavetogetridofthem,"Marysaid.

           Ibroughtoutmy12-bore,stickywithgrease,andfoundsomeoldthickenedshellswithnumberfiveshot.IntheeveningIsatonthebackstepsandwhentherabbitswereinlineIblastedbothofthemwithoneshot.ThenIburiedthefurryruinsunderthebiglilacandIwasmiserableinthestomach.

           ItwassimplythatIhadgrownunusedtokillingthings.Amancangetusedtoanything.Slaughteringorundertakingorevenexecution;rackandpincersmustbejustajobwhenonegetsusedtoit.

           WhenthechildrenhadgonetobedIsaid,"I’mgoingoutforawhile."

           Marydidn’taskwhereorwhy,asshewouldhaveafewdaysago."Shallyoubelate?"

           "No,notlate."

           "Iwon’twaitup,I’msleepy,"shesaid.Anditseemedthat,havingacceptedadirection,shewasfartheralongthanI.Istillhadtherabbitmisery.