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The Rabbit by Normandi Ellis It was the end of that season. Whatever last leaves the trees held, the constant rain had beaten down. Under the oaks and sycamores lay a quagmire of mulch and marl, and one after another, the wooded hills curled away, homogeneous and gray. Joel's shoes slipped in the mud. The coat he had borrowed did not keep him dry, but he was content to be there, hunting rabbit under a damp arc of trees. His cousin mounted the ridge ahead, rifle tipped up and away, his strides long and certain, his orange vest slick with rain and bright as autumn leaves. Everett had promised to teach Joel to hunt before he shipped overseas, but now his mind raced ahead and he walked quickly, peering left then right between the trees. He was a hunter exposed to his prey by the fallen foliage. He stopped, then listened for the stirring of rabbit, squirrel, or perhaps human feet. Half a world away there was war, but here the woods held their peace, except for a slow drizzle spattering the dead leaves. As Everett crested the hill, his orange vest dropped from sight. Alone in the rain, Joel heaved himself over the uphill rocks. His rapid breaths frosted the November air. He stopped to rest, smelling the wet grasses, feeling himself observed. At the wood's edge Joel spied the fox and a cold shock ran through him. Her eyes were sharp and dark. He lifted his empty hands and she bounced over the brush, her red tail flickering through the bare trees. At the top of the ridge he looked around. Further down, he spied Everett going past a spring that emptied into the creek. He followed, sliding downhill on his pants' seat, clutching the saplings to steady himself. At the bottom he turned and ran up the path. Everett stopped. They were about three miles in. "Joel, you got to keep up. I promised your Mama I wouldn't lose you. I reckon she'd tan both our hides if I didn't bring you home." Joel panted, his breath frosting the air. "I saw a fox back there, Ev!" Everett glanced over his shoulder, surveying the hill. "Joel, you can't eat fox." Joel spread his lips over his teeth uneasily . Everett clasped his shoulder and showed Joel how to use the scope. The stock felt solid in the boy's hands. "You ain't afraid of going to Nam are you, Ev?" Everett's powerful fingers gave Joel's shoulder a squeeze and released it. He smiled, his lips compressed, an almost imperceptible crevice in the rock. 'I'd be lying if I said I wasn't nervous ." "But you ain't scared. That's it, isn't it?" 26 J 'i I»' s. ",- Ai *

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