If you properly respect what you are after, and shoot it cleanly and on the animal’s terrain, if you imprison in your mind all the wonder of the day from sky to smell to breeze to flowers—then you have not merely killed an animal. You have lent immortality to a beast you have killed because you loved him and wanted him forever so that you could always capture the day.
—Robert Ruark, The Old Man and the Boy
Chapter One: 1991
This is one hell of a way to celebrate your fiftieth birthday!
I’m sitting up on a shelf in Butch’s Pawn Shop. Downtown! In St. Louis, Missouri! Downtown!! In a city!!
This is not at all where I belong. There are other decoys up on this shelf with me, and from the looks of them, this might be a good place for them to stay. But, not me.
I’m a lean, mean, goose attractin’ machine. I don’t mind the nine months of storage in somebody’s garage, because I know what the other three months are going to bring, but this has me worried. Very worried.
It seems like only yesterday….......
Chapter Two: 1941
Yesterday I wasn’t I just …...... wasn’t.
Today, I am!
Sometime today the feeling just started. I know I began as a single piece of wood. Then another piece was placed along side me, then another, and another. In between each piece, well, this sticky, gooey, yucky stuff was spread. Finally, after several pieces of wood were all sticking together, some kind of arm was put on each side and it clamped us even tighter together. I mean tight. There wasn���t room between any of us pieces of wood for a rat to fart.
And now ���something��� has picked me up. A voice is talking to me saying, “You’re going to be my best.��� Sawing and cutting on me, he proclaims, ���You���re going to be my finest!���
As parts of me are being destroyed, obliterated, he soothingly talks, and explains, ���You’ll finish my spread and we’ll have great times together.”
Hm? I don’t understand this at all. I wish I could see. That would surely help.
*******************
Things are a little clearer this morning and I have figured out what “it” is. “It” is a man. His name is Heinz Schmelzerblein. He came in here with another “it” last night whose name is Grant Heim. They were in here a long time talking about all kinds of things. This building is Heinz’ shop. Grant and Heinz get together every fall and do something they call “hunting”. They talked about me for a long time saying that I was really coming along. Heinz said that I was going to be his best ever. They called me several different things; a block, a decoy, a deke. I wish they would stick with one thing. That’s a lot of names for one piece of wood to figure out.
Heinz just came in and said, “Mornin’ fellows.” There must be more than just me here as he sounded like he was talking to a group. I wonder what “fellows” do?
Heinz picked me up and started sticking me with something, gouging away a little more of my original self. Whoa, Heinz! That hurts! Take it a little easy. And now he’s rubbing all over me with a hard steel bar that is rough as a cob. Scraping away even more of me.
Ahhh, that’s better. He quit using that bar and is rubbing me all over with a piece of paper that feels pretty good. It still takes a little of me away, but not in chunks. Just a layer of dust coming off me now. Hey, Heinz, careful on that end, it tickles.
Every once in a while, Heinz sets me aside and I can hear him talking to the others. He always calls them by name and tells them how great they look and how fine a job they are going to do. “Ah, Peter, you look like you’re sleeping, with your head tucked back under your wing. That should fool even the wariest Canuk.��� And, ���Gertie, you really do look like you are preening your feathers. I really like that touch.” But, no replies. Never. These one sided conversations really make me wonder about ol’ Heinz.
Now he’s fondling me and talking to me again. “And you my fine fellow. What shall we name you? All your brothers and sisters have fine names, but not you. You are going to be my finest decoy and you must have a fine name. I think I will call you Gustav. My father had a Gustav in his spread and he was a fine decoy. He was a sentinel, too, and my father told me that Gustav would tell him when the geese were coming. You will be my second eyes too, Gustav, and keep me alerted to the coming and going of the geese.” Hey! I’m just telling you what he told me. I don’t understand it either.
Heinz! What the heck are you doing to me now? That really hurts. Heinz just held me down on the bench and bored a hole in the side of my head, and, Ouch, now he’s doing the other side. Heinz is pouring that sticky stuff in the holes and sticking something in the holes.
What! What is going on! Something is making my head hurt. It’s so bright. Bright? Holy cow! I can see!
So, this is Heinz��� shop. Hmm. Nice cozy room, but from the looks of things Heinz could use a cleaning lady. The floor is covered with sawdust and wood chips. I suppose those are parts of me. The walls have lots of tools hanging on them; saws, planes, a brace and bit, and there���s a two handled draw knife. I���ll bet that���s what he was using on me. The handles on it just shine from all the use they���ve had. Oil from Heinz��� hands must keep them polished. And that strange looking gadget must be the ���arms��� he put around me to give me that big ol��� squeeze.
That must be Heinz sitting by the pot bellied stove. He���s tipped back in an old wooden chair, smoking his pipe and blowing smoke rings at the ceiling. He���s staring at an old calendar picture hanging on the wall. It shows two men in a boat, shooting at a flock of ducks, and it���s titled ���They are hitters!��� Hmmm. This is quite a picture in itself.
On the wall behind Heinz is a big window. It lets in beautiful sunlight and I���ve got a teriffic view. Heinz sure has a pretty place. There are many big Oak and Maple trees, and the wrens! Oh my! Heinz has wren houses hanging in every tree and they must all be in use because the singing is non-stop. That sound has to be the prettiest sound I���ve ever heard.
Down the hill there is a pond and I can see a pair of mallards swimming around with a train of fuzzy ducklings following behind them.
And what are these things sitting beside me on this bench? They must be what I am, er…I must be what they are. Pretty fine looking, pretty damn fine looking, if you ask me. I can’t see myself of course, but I feel like that’s what I look like. I hope that’s what I look like.
This has really been a shock to my system. It’s a good thing I can’t close my eyes or I’d never get done seeing all there is to see. Everywhere you look there is something new.
Hey Heinz. Next time you move me, set me next to the one preening her feathers. What did you say her name was? Gertie? Yeah, I remember, good ol��� Gertie. I sure wish Heinz would answer me. He never does. Maybe he’s deaf. HEY! HEINZ! Not even a blink.
How about you Gert? Wanta do a little talkin’? I know some pretty good jokes. Aw, c’mon, you can talk to me. Hmmph! She just sits there staring at me. She could clear up some of my confusion if she’d just open up. Nothing worse that getting the cold shoulder, er ,wing, from a pretty girl. Someday she’ll need a shoulder to cry on and I won’t give her so much as a heronk.
Let me see if I can describe Gertie. You may have seen some fine paintings. Maybe the Mona Lisa? Naw, Gertie���s smile is prettier. How about a photo of Jean Harlow, or Betty Grable? Naw, Gerties prettier than them, too. She���s just gorgeous. She has a long, coal black, sinewy neck and the brightest white cheeks you���ve ever seen. Her head is tilted back over her wing and she looks like she���s purtyin��� herself up, just for me, of course.
And her tail! Mmmmm! It���s also coal black with a white stripe and a little grey. The rest of her body ain���t bad either! She���s a looker, that girl is.
I can’t figure out why I can talk and hear myself talk, and hear Heinz and Grant talk, but nobody can hear me. Someday I’ll probably get a big chuckle out of this, yeah, and someday nobody’ll know the difference. Yeah, and someday I’ ll fly, too.
Chapter Three: 1941
Another day! That’s really important when you haven’t had very many. It’s definitely cooler today. One interesting thing I noticed, the daylight is getting shorter and the nights are getting longer.
I can hear Heinz coming down the path from the house. He always whistles or sings when he makes that walk. I think he���s trying to wake the brids up and get them started singing. Now that���s a catchy tune he���s singing this morning;
“The days are gettin’ shorter, the temperatures goin’ down, I’ll be on the river soon, my decoys for to drown.”
I should hope he���s not going to drown us!!
We have a new character added to the equation this morning. A big black dog followed Heinz into the shop. Is he ever stout. He must be the one Heinz and Grant were talking about the other night. He’s a black lab by the name of Buck. Buck ol’ buddy, you and I gotta be friends ‘cuz I sure don’t need any enemies with teeth like yours. Now get your wet nose off of my beak. And don’t stick it under my tail again. Ever! Whew! I wonder what you’ve been eating. That’s awful.
He seems to like that ol’ gunny sack by the stove. He walked over there, laid down, curled up, and instantly started snoring. I guess that’s his special spot.
Heinz is taking cans down off the shelf and shaking them up. They’re kinda messy looking. Some are gray, some black, and some white on the outside and they smell kind of funny, too.
Heinz has a stick with hair on one end of it and he’s dipping it in the can and then rubbing that stuff all over my body. Oh Lord, don’t let this feeling end. Yeah, right there Heinz. That does feel mighty good. I’ll give you a half hour to quit that.
Now I’m all sticky on the outside. Maybe I oughta tip over against ol’ Gert. She got a once over with this sticky stuff too. I’ve got to admit she looks even better with makeup.
What���s that flying by the window? They look just like Gert. I’ll bet that’s what I look like now. I can hear them making a racket as they go by. Honking like crazy and boy, is Heinz ever excited. He dropped his hammer and he went out the door like a flash. Now he���s coming back in and he���s beaming from ear to ear and keeps repeating. It’s gettin’ closer fellas. Closer every day.���
Heinz went out a little while ago and he left that paint can right under my nose. I think I know what flying feels like now. Whoeee! I feel good! Gertie, let’s do a little dance together, the night is young and so are we. Give me a chance, Darlin’!
Ok baby, if that’s the way it is, so be it. I’ve really got my beak out of joint now. I guess she’s just like the gals ol’ Heinz and Grant are always talkin’ about. Heinz just said yesterday. Ja, wimmen, you can’t live with ‘em, and you can’t live with ‘em.”
Heinz really has the place warmed up today, and it feels pretty good. It is colder outside, and he was wearing a jacket when he came in this morning. He put another coat of paint on me today. I must be the most handsome devil in Peoria, Illinois. That’s what Heinz said and he’s the boss.
I am getting real tired of having holes drilled in me, though. He just laid me over on my back and drilled a hole right under my chest. Now he���s taking a big screw that has an eye on the end and is screwing it into that hole. I think I���m gonna split.
Heinz tied a piece of cord to the eye that has a heavy weight tied to the other end. This is getting kind of interesting. Maybe he’s afraid if he takes me outside I’ll try and get away. I wonder how I’d do that. I can’t walk or fly, but, maybe I’d blow away. The wind has really been whipping leaves past the window the last couple of days.
Hronk is a serialized book-length work. First serial rights have been licensed to OnStand by the author. Book rights are currently available. The author can be contacted through OnStand.