The Start of a New Beginning
Nathan Hollenbeck
Mrs. Maher
Research and Technical Writing
1 January, 2016
The Start of a New Beginning
Before we got to the stairs, on the deck of the house. I stopped, we all stopped and with one look between us I hugged both of them. Still nobody said a word, but it was obvious. We made it. Realizing it now a few years older, I experienced an epiphany.
Looking back often I think about what could have happened. I am seventeen now, when I experienced my first epiphany I was fourteen. Now recognizing to be prepared for any situation, my habits have changed. The way I grasp the concept of what lead up to my situation is kind of a metaphor for growing up. From then to now, it has been a hundred and eighty degree turn. One hundred percent positive, I am prepared for any situation I could possibly get in ninety percent of the time. Which, is way better than before. Before my experience I was naïve. Not matching clothes is a bad choice. Not wearing a coat in the winter could be a frightful choice. If anyone who reads this story, he or she needs to take one thing out of it. A simple choice can determine whether you make it home or not.
Every year, the second weekend of pheasant season, the guys stay at my grandpa’s house. In 2012, Lew brought a business partner and his son, along with his own son and grandson. Lew’s son is a little older than I, but his grandson is a grade above me in school. We have been great friends now for several years. Together we have a blast. Sports and the outdoors are our main conversation. Andy comes every year with Lew. He’s from St. Paul Minnesota. He’s just like I tall and lengthy. The only difference is he’s black. Andrew’s dad is the owner of a business in Boston, and Lew and Quin do business together. He’s a little shorter than me, about six foot tall two hundred forty pounds, and Chinese. He is in his first semester of college about and is two years older than me. He comes from a very wealthy family you can clearly tell. All and all he’s pretty solid person and friend. I know this sounds kind of crazy, or the beginning of a funny racial joke. This is no joke I promise!
The first day of hunting was going alright at noon, we were road hunting mostly, and driving gravel roads, searching for pheasants in the ditch. We’re all young guys, so we devoured our jerky and drank all our Coke for the day, so we obviously need to go get some more. We decide to get some lunch that my grandmother cooked, take an hour nap, and finally a quick snap. Just two more steps to the door, and a shout comes from the kitchen. Sounding concerned she wanted me to grab a heavy coat, because obviously it was snowing. When I said I was going to be back before dark, I later regretted those words.
Whistling wind gusts now hit the pickup at thirty five miles per hour. Then, the pickup came screeching to a halt: a whitetail buck surrounded by sunflower heads in the field on our right. Yellow Andy was in aww, black Andy was scrambling for the gun fumbling with every move made. Finally, he manages to get the gun out the window, resting on the mirror focusing like nobody I’ve ever seen. With a squeeze of the trigger and a loud bang, came a sound of assurance “wahpop” he hunched up. That’s a sure sign of making a fatal shot. The buck did a 180 degree turn and made a mad, last will effort to live by sprinting to a creak in the middle of the sunflower field. Black Andy hooped and hollered highfiving both yellow Andy and I. We get to the gate, and to end the days hunt on a positive note. There is four inches of snow on the ground, at this time and less than a half hour to dark. Following the fence line for the first hundred yards, he made then our way to the creak. The snow gets deeper, then too deep to keep going.
Fast as I could, I threw it into reverse and floored it. Too late, the engine just revs and the tires spin, while the pickup goes nowhere. Both Andys get out of the pick and push backwards. At first it barely budged, then it moved inches, then feet. Before I knew it, I was going forty miles an hour in reverse. Then, the sounds of a pop, that was so loud it masked the radio. Andy and Andy stopped dead in their tracks. I knew exactly what happened. There’s only one thing that could have been. The tire now has a hole, the size of a sunflower stock in it. Then, I thought to myself, yep called it. From sprinting with excitement, to walking with heads down.
Both had AT&T phones, and if you live here, you know there’s no service. My phone was dead and no charger. We were up shit creak without a paddle and dead in the middle of the water. Not so bad; other than no food and our parents don’t know where we are. Five thirty in the afternoon, and its dark. Now, the question is what to do.
There was an empty thermos on the floor, black Andy looked at me with a confused look not saying anything. Then looking down, Andy was just rambling dumb shit to himself, it kinda freaked me out. I finally said, “What in the hell are you doing?” He was silent. Not saying anything for a few moments, he grabbed the thermos. Starting by saying if we take a piss in it, its heat. We didn’t know what to think. So he got out, did his thing. Not even a word, when he got back in us all grabbed it with our hands. It was warmth, it was life. Lasting for a half hour or forty minutes. It was Andy’s turn, then mine after that. Sleep was the plan all night, I don’t think I slept for more than twenty minutes. Silence, and cold was the only thing in the air for the next several hours. Out of the east it was starting to get light, which meant it was about five thirty. It was our sign it’s time to go. Making our way out of the pickup, getting stretched out doing jumping jacks for warmth. Off walking to the south, to the salvation of safety, to a house. We walked through fields for hours, through snowdrifts feet deep. Wearing a long sleeve shirt and cowboy boots. My feet were numb all night, and before we left, feeling like ice blocks weighing me down. We get to a small slough full of grass we have to cross, out of nowhere a coyote is standing forty yards away. I grabbed my rifle, and it went running, cutting through the air was a pop pop pop, the coyote skidded on the ground.