The Lost Woods: Stories

Uncle Ivory

100 Uncle Ivory 1993 Johnny Chapman I฀was฀never฀exactly฀sure฀how฀Uncle฀Ivory฀was฀r elated฀to฀us฀C hapmans,฀ only฀that฀he฀was.฀I฀know฀he฀wasn’t฀my฀father’s฀brother฀or฀any฀close฀relation .฀But฀I฀know฀he฀was฀related฀to฀us฀some฀kind฀of฀way,฀though฀he฀was฀ a฀Wilson.฀And฀that฀his฀real฀name฀was฀Ivor฀and฀that฀w e฀called฀him฀Uncle฀ Ivory฀because฀nobody฀ever฀heard฀of฀a฀real฀person฀named฀Ivor.฀It฀sounded฀ like฀some฀count฀or฀something.฀And฀I฀know฀that฀he฀had the finest bird฀dogs฀ anybody฀had฀ever฀seen฀and฀that฀he฀kne w฀how฀to฀train฀them฀like฀nobody฀ could.฀It฀was฀like฀he฀and฀the฀dogs฀knew฀each฀other’s฀minds฀on฀some฀kind฀ of฀level. ฀ I฀also฀know฀that฀he฀ha d฀not฀moved฀back฀to฀South฀Carolina฀until฀after฀ he฀retired฀from฀his฀job฀as฀a฀professor฀up฀in฀Virginia.฀He฀and฀a฀black฀fellow฀ name฀of฀Eric฀from฀Chicago฀bought฀up฀a฀bunch฀of฀land—paid฀cash฀for฀it฀ though฀most฀o f฀the฀mo ney฀came฀fr om฀the฀b lack฀fellow฀Eric.฀They฀were฀ gonna฀raise฀and฀train฀setters,฀even฀make฀a฀hunting฀plantation฀or฀something. ฀ My฀best฀teenage฀memories฀were฀of฀hunting฀with฀Dad฀and฀Uncle฀Ivory฀ and฀Larrie,฀my฀older฀brother,฀and฀Er ic—after฀Dad finally฀started฀letting฀ me฀go฀along.฀Sometimes฀Elvin฀would฀go฀along฀too,฀but฀he฀was฀mostly฀too฀ young฀those฀days.฀Those฀hunts—it฀was฀like฀walking฀among฀the฀gods. ฀ Dad฀was฀the฀b est฀shot฀I฀e ver฀saw฀until฀the฀alcohol฀started฀to฀hurt฀his฀ steadiness฀and฀his฀speed,฀and฀Larrie฀was฀just฀about฀as฀good.฀They฀had฀that฀ Uncle฀Ivory 101 famous฀Chapman฀steadiness,฀hand-eye฀coordination,฀whatever฀you฀call฀ it—perhaps฀it฀was฀a฀ byproduct฀of฀the฀muleheadedness,฀something฀else฀ they฀both฀had฀a฀lot฀of. ฀ I฀could฀never฀keep฀up฀with฀them.฀I฀was฀always฀slow฀on฀the฀uptake฀or฀ leading฀too฀much.฀Slow฀and฀pat ient,฀I฀was,฀like฀my฀mother.฀I฀was฀m uch฀ better฀at฀squirrel฀hunting฀because฀you฀had฀more฀time฀to฀set฀up฀your฀shot฀ and฀all.฀And฀old฀Uncle฀Ivory฀never฀cared฀much฀for฀the฀shooting฀part.฀He฀ just฀went฀along฀to฀be฀with฀the฀dogs฀and฀to฀be฀sure฀that฀they฀did฀all฀he฀had฀ taught฀them฀to฀do. ฀ But฀Eric,฀old฀Eric,฀he฀was฀the฀patient฀one.฀He฀would฀spend฀time฀working ฀with฀me฀while฀the฀others฀went฀on฀ahead. ฀ “What฀you฀doin’฀standing฀like฀you฀Davy฀Crockett฀or฀something.฀Hold฀ your฀cheek฀against฀that฀bar rel฀and฀sig ht฀down฀it.฀Yeah,฀yeah—that’s฀it.฀ Make฀it฀so฀you฀can฀turn฀and฀move฀and฀still฀keep฀it฀in฀line฀with฀your฀cheek฀ and฀your฀eye.” ฀ He฀taught฀me฀how฀to฀hit฀a฀quail,฀something฀my฀father฀pretty฀much฀expected ฀me฀to฀learn฀on฀my฀own.฀But฀even฀then฀I฀knew฀I’d฀never฀be฀as฀good฀ a฀shot฀as฀Dad฀or฀Larrie.฀They฀just฀had฀that฀natural฀hand-eye฀coordination. ฀ Now฀Dad฀is฀long฀gone,฀moldering฀in฀the฀ground฀for฀years฀right฀beside฀ Mother฀and฀probably฀still฀arguing฀with฀her฀about฀his฀drinking.฀If฀anybody฀ took฀anything฀to฀the฀grave฀with฀him,฀then฀Dad฀took฀a฀bottle฀of฀Jim฀Beam.฀ And฀now฀Larrie฀and฀I฀are฀men,฀and฀Elvin฀has฀moved฀off฀to฀Alabama.฀And฀ old฀Uncle฀Ivory—he฀must฀be฀pushing฀nine ty.฀Aunt฀Molly,฀his฀p rim฀and฀ proper฀wife,฀has฀been฀dead฀for at least five฀years.฀And฀we฀don’t฀go฀back฀to฀ what’s฀left฀of฀the฀farm฀up฀on฀the฀Piedmont฀near฀Spartanburg฀to฀hunt฀as฀ much฀as฀we฀once฀did.฀Fact฀is,฀it’s฀been฀years. ฀ So฀I฀called฀old฀Uncle฀Ivory฀up฀and฀told฀him฀that฀we’d฀be฀coming฀out฀to฀ the฀farm฀to฀hunt฀this฀November. ฀ “All฀right,”฀he฀said฀without฀hesitation฀and฀just฀as฀clear฀as฀a฀bell.฀It฀was฀ as฀if฀we฀did฀this฀every฀two฀weeks.฀Then,฀“You฀know฀I฀don’t฀cook฀breakfast฀ anymore.” ฀ Truth฀was฀he฀never฀had—Aunt฀Molly฀had. ฀ “That’s฀all฀right,”฀I฀said.฀“We’ll฀stop฀at฀Doug’s.” Uncle฀Ivory 102 ฀ “And฀you฀know฀they฀ain’t฀as฀many฀quail฀as฀the y฀used฀to฀be.฀I฀d o฀my฀ best,฀but฀they฀just฀ain’t฀there฀like฀they฀used฀to฀be.฀Too฀many฀farmers฀have฀ sold...