Darkhouse

FOURTEEN

Stinger’s Creek, North Central Texas, 1984

‘Out of sight, out of mind!’ laughed Uncle Bill when he saw Duke standing on the back porch looking for him. Duke tried to follow the voice.

‘I’m up here!’ Bill gave him a broad wave.

‘You got me,’ said Duke, smiling. ‘New camo clothes?’

‘Yes, sir,’ said Bill. ‘Last gear was faded near white. Can’t have those deer pickin’ me out like a fool. And I’ve got myself a new Baker tree stand,’ he said, patting the side. ‘High and mighty,’ he laughed. ‘They won’t know what hit ’em.’

‘You got plans?’ asked Duke.

‘Yup. Couple weeks’ time I’m drivin’ down to Uvalde for the opening day of deer season.’

He climbed down and slapped Duke’s back.

‘Need to make sure everythin’ is in fine workin’ order before I set out. How’s your mama?’

Duke knew Bill didn’t get along with his mama.

‘Mama’s OK. She’s…she’s OK.’

‘Good to hear,’ said Bill, his head bent to study his bow.

‘Think you could teach me how to shoot?’

Bill looked up.

‘Are you serious, son?’

‘Sure am, sir,’ said Duke. ‘Am I old enough?’

‘Long as you can listen, hold a bow and be safe.’

Duke saluted him.

‘OK, then. Let’s start with how you’re gonna hold the bow. This here’s a compound bow. A beauty. More power, less effort. Now, we need to find out which hand you’ll use to hold the bow and which—’

‘I write with this hand,’ said Duke, holding up his right hand.

‘Doesn’t much matter,’ said Bill. ‘It’s all in the eyes.’ He pointed with two fingers.

‘Which one of your eyes is the dominant one.’

Duke shook his head.

‘OK. Do this,’ said Bill. ‘Pick out some object in the distance.’

‘That old garbage can?’ said Duke.

‘Perfect. Now point at it, then close your left eye. OK? Then close your right eye. Now when you close one of those eyes, your finger seems to shift to one side. Which is it for you, Duke?”

‘My right eye,’ said Duke.

‘Then you’re right-eye dominant, just like your Uncle Bill.’

‘What does that mean?’ asked Duke.

‘Means you hold the bow in your left hand and pull the bowstring with your right. Now,’ he said, putting a hand on Duke’s shoulder and turning him towards the trees. ‘Stand up straight, feet apart. You comfortable?’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘OK. Now hold this.’ He handed Duke the bow, laughing as the boy rocked forward with the weight.

‘Heavy, isn’t it?’ said Bill. Duke smiled.

‘You’d probably use somethin’ a little lighter,’ said Bill. ‘Anyhow, next thing you do is nock the arrow, meanin’ you put this part here on the bowstring where you see this.’ He took the bow from Duke and pushed the nock back onto the bowstring. ‘The shaft rests here.’ He pointed to a notch on the bow. ‘You’re probably better off watchin’ for the rest of this.’

‘OK,’ said Duke, disappointed.

‘What?’ said Bill. ‘You think I’m crazy, lettin’ a boy loose with a dangerous weapon?’ He smiled. ‘Now, put your pointin’ finger on the bowstring above the arrow and your next two fingers below, but don’t touch the nock. Relax the back of your hand and pull back just a tiny bit.’

He brought the bow up slightly, gripping it between his thumb and index finger, nodding towards Duke to watch how he held it.

‘Now stretch out that bow arm and raise up your drawin’ arm, keepin’ that elbow high. Then pull your arm back until your drawin’ hand is against your jaw, keepin’ your body still all the while. Now move the sight pin over the centre of your target. I’m aimin’ for the steel bear over by that tree. Line everything up, the string, the bow and the sight pin, keepin’ it all on the vertical. You got this?’

‘Yes,’ said Duke, frustrated by the interruption. ‘Do it! Shoot!’ He hopped from foot to foot.

‘Hold your horses,’ said Bill through clenched teeth, keeping his jaw rigid.

‘And release,’ he said. The arrow flew straight, reaching its target, springing gently from side to side on impact.

‘Cool,’ said Duke. Bill hooked an arm around his shoulders and hugged the boy to his side.

‘You wanna try?’

‘Yes, sir!’ said Duke, beaming.

‘What you need to remember at all times is the target,’ said Bill. ‘Be steady and focus. Think about that target, watch that target, every step of the way. Never lose sight of it.’

The bow rocked Duke again, but he moved until he steadied his weight, keeping his legs wide. Bill stood behind him and smiled as Duke struggled to bring the bow to shoulder height.

‘This is all gonna happen a bit faster for me, Uncle Bill, ’cos I ain’t gonna be able to hold the bow too long.’

Bill laughed loud, a friendly booming laugh. Then he watched, amazed, as Duke followed every step. The arrow stopped short of its target, but only because the weight of the bow tilted Duke forward at the last second. Duke kicked the earth. ‘Damn,’ he said, twisting on his feet. ‘Damn.’

‘Don’t be so hard on yourself, son. Only thing wrong with that was the weight of that bow. Once I get you one of your own, I think you’ll be doin’ just fine.’

‘Get me one of my own?’ asked Duke.

‘Sure. I’ll get you a bow, long as you can promise me you’ll work hard at school, show up every day, don’t be swimmin’ around that creek when you should be sittin’ in class.’

Duke smiled. ‘Busted,’ said Bill. ‘Now, get along. I’ve got some shootin’ to do.’