Huntin' With My Boy

Dan and I went hunting last week, for groundhogs.

I had some time off work and I wanted to see my boy so I sent him a text message.

“Wanna go hunting?”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Tomorrow afternoon. Just you and me. Wanna go?”

“Yes, Dad. But I moved. I live in Mount Forest now.”

I wasn’t too thrilled to hear that, Ms J. I was hoping to go to Pat’s house in Georgetown, get the guns we store there, and then collect Dan at his place two minutes from my brother’s. Oh well. MF wasn’t too far out of the way. I had to go that way anyway.

“No problem, Dan. A man is coming here today to sell me some new shingles. He’s coming at noon. It’ll be around 4 when I get you. OK?”

“K. Can’t wait. C U 2morrow.”

And so it was. The man came at 12:30. I agreed to have Peter and Greg Walker Roofing put new shingles on my house. It was nearly 5:00 when I picked up the boy. I must tell you, Ms J, it felt odd to drive right past Mum and Dad’s place without stopping in, but time was short. It was another hour to the farm where we planned to hunt and it would be dark before 9:00.

It was a nice trip from MF to the farm. Dan talked all the way about nothing. I listened though. My dad always listened to me when I talked about nothing. At the farm, we had a little visit with the farmer and his wife. Morris and Doris have been family friends for years. They're really good people.

The shadows were growing long as we headed out into the hay fields. Morris had recently mowed and baled the first crop of hay, and it’s been so dry lately, the grass hadn’t grown much at all since then. Morris fears he'll have to buy hay, for if the rain doesn't come soon, there won't be time for a second crop.



The sky was nearly cloudless. A gentle breeze blew. The temperature was ideal. It was a perfect day for hunting groundhogs.

We saw about a dozen, I suppose, in the two hours we spent. I only shot at two of them and let Dan try his luck on the rest. I shot one, a good, clean kill through the upper body and neck. The second time was a long shot, and I missed. Dan used his Uncle Pat’s .22 rifle with a scope but alas, had no success at all.



I wanted so much for him to shoot a groundhog, Ms J. Dan really needs the ego boost. He missed every time, though, even from quite close. He really had a bad day.

He took it well, though. I told him shooting groundhogs was not the real reason I was there. I told him I wanted to spend some fun time with my son. And that was the Gospel Truth. I think he enjoyed himself despite his lack of success.

On the way back to Dan's place, I examined my son. He looked pretty good. His eyes were clear and blue. His skin was unblemished. His hair was shiny. His hands were fairly steady, but I noticed his finger nails had been gnawed halfway to the quick. It must hurt to bite them down so far.

"Are you enjoying Life 'on the Mount', Dan?" I asked.

He said it was good. And then he told me about the drugs that were available there. I didn't know whether to believe him or not, Ms J. It seems hard to imagine that a little farming community a hundred miles from the big city could be such a Mecca for drug users. Maybe his point was simply to tell me that although drugs were available, he hadn't used them.

"I'm doing good lately," he said. "I haven't even had weed in a couple of months."

And then he told me about a legal form of hallucinogen available at some convenience stores. I don't recall the name he used.

"It's still legal, Dad. Anybody can buy it. You smoke it like weed, and you get really high but it only lasts a few minutes. I got some once a long time ago and let Mum try it. She got wasted off her ass but it didn't last long. Scott tried it later and he said it was amazing. He actually fell back and slid down the wall."

I shook my head and tried breathing away the confusion. How could I respond to something like that, Ms J? How should I respond? Conversations with Dan invariably involve drugs at some point. It seems there's no way around it. However, I suppose talking about it and doing it are two different things. Meagan talks about sex. I talk about quitting the railroad. But that doesn't mean we're actually going to do it. I hope.

So my son has left the hovel he shared with Sarah in Georgetown and has moved with her to the town where my parents live. They (Dan and Sarah) live in a big old house in town with Alan, Kelly's newest "friend." I assume Alan's "in the lifestyle" too. And I'm sure Kelly plans to live there permanently soon.

"Have you gone to visit Grandma and Grandad yet, Dan?"

"Not yet."

"They'd be happy to see you. I know they would. And you're only a few blocks away."

"Yeah," he said. "I'll get over and see them one day soon. I've been pretty busy lately, though."

I nodded my head, Ms Journal. But I wasn't convinced.

I am convinced however, that Kelly will soon move her eclectic entourage and her twisted "lifestyle" to my parents' town and the drama will begin anew.

God help them.

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