Голодные игры

           I’mfilthyfromheadtotoe,Itrysplashingmyselfbuteventuallyjustlaydowninthewaterforafewminutes,lettingitwashoffthesootandbloodandskinthathasstartedtopeeloffmyburns.Afterrinsingoutmyclothesandhangingthemonbushestodry,Isitonthebankinthesunforabit,untanglingmyhairwithmyfingers.MyappetitereturnsandIeatacrackerandastripofbeef.Withahandfulofmoss,Ipolishthebloodfrommysilverweapons.

           Refreshed,Itreatmyburnsagain,braidbackmyhair,anddressinthedampclothes,knowingthesunwilldrythemsoonenough.Followingthestreamagainstitscurrentseemsthesmartestcourseofaction.I’mtravelinguphillnow,whichIprefer,withasourceoffreshwaternotonlyformyselfbutpossiblegame.Ieasilytakeoutastrangebirdthatmustbesomeformofwildturkey.Anyway,itlooksplentyedibletome.Bylateafternoon,Idecidetobuildasmallfiretocookthemeat,bettingthatduskwillhelpconcealthesmokeandIcanquenchthefirebynightfall.Icleanthegame,takingextracarewiththebird,butthere’snothingalarmingaboutit.Oncethefeathersareplucked,it’snobiggerthanachicken,butit’splumpandfirm.I’vejustplacedthefirstlotoverthecoalswhenIhearthetwigsnap.

           Inonemotion,Iturntothesound,bringingthebowandarrowtomyshoulder.There’snoonethere.NooneIcanseeanyway.ThenIspotthetipofachild’sbootjustpeekingoutfrombehindthetrunkofatree.MyshouldersrelaxandIgrin.