Hunter's Choice, page 12
“Well, Yumi’s your cousin and friend for life. I’ve always been happy to see the two of you hanging out. Now, Annette, on the other hand. Come on, I could tell you weren’t too excited when she first showed up. But now you totally saved her life. So, you know . . .”
“Please stop.” Hunter laughed.
“What!” Uncle Rick laughed too. “I’m just saying maybe you can ask her to couple-skate at the next skating party!”
“Are you kidding?” Hunter fired back. He was glad it was so dark. His cheeks must be flaming red. “Nobody couple-skates. I don’t even know what that is.”
“Fair enough. But she is pretty cool, right?” said Uncle Rick.
“She’s OK,” said Hunter.
“All right. Listen. Seriously,” Uncle Rick said. “And I’ll say this just one more time, and then let it drop. Hunter. Thank you for saving Yumi and me. I’ll never forget it.”
CHAPTER 17
“THERE HE IS!” GRANDPA SHOUTED WHEN HUNTER entered the lodge. “Sureshot Higgins, the wolf slayer!”
Hunter laughed. Everybody had showered and changed clothes. There were big bowls of popcorn and nachos loaded with cheese, venison, olives, and a pile of other great stuff. Grandpa had already cracked his second beer. The girls were drinking sodas, sitting by the fire again.
“Hey, I wouldn’t even have shot the thing if we hadn’t needed to defend Yumi’s deer,” Hunter said.
“For which, thank you very much!” Yumi raised her drink in salute.
“Where’s my dad?” Hunter asked.
“Out in the butcher shop,” said Grandpa. “I expect he’s about done skinning your wolf. Sorry. He didn’t want to wait. It’s harder to remove the skin the more the animal cools off. Then he’s going to go ahead and butcher the deer. Yumi says deer steaks tonight. You hungry?”
“Sounds great!” Hunter said.
“Higgins!” Yumi shouted. “Would you get cleaned up already? We’re going out to the Tower.”
“I should probably go help my dad,” Hunter said.
“Hunter,” Grandpa said. “It’s fine. It’s really not much of a two-person job. You’ve done enough. Take it easy.”
Hunter shrugged and went out to the shop area to ditch his dirty cold-weather gear before heading in to shower and then putting on a clean McCall Warriors sweatshirt and jeans. Minutes later, grabbing his regular coat, hat, and a pair of gloves, he went with Yumi and Annette out into the dark. Annette carried the flashlight. Yumi had a heavy blanket, a box of hand warmers, and a bag of her favorite snack, pretzels. Hunter carried a small cooler packed with cans of soda.
“Tell me again why we have to be out here in the cold?” Hunter asked.
“Higgins! It’s simple.” Yumi reached the base of the Tower first. “Hanging out with adults is no good. We can’t talk around them. They barge into every conversation, to either correct you or to tell you that whatever you’re talking about reminds them of how it was thirty years ago or something. Fine. The nineties were great. Whatever! I don’t need to hear about it.”
Yumi climbed up the crevice to the top of the Tower. She turned and reached down as Hunter handed up the blanket and then the cooler. Soon all three of them sat on the blanket enjoying pretzels and drinks.
“You guys,” Annette said, “this is going to be the best story the McCall Middle School Times has ever published. A hunting story. A wolf attack. A freaking wolf!”
“No joke, that was terrifying,” Yumi said.
“Plus the video I got can be posted to the online edition,” Annette added. “How’s that possibly not going to go viral?”
“Oh yeah, a million views,” Yumi said. “You’ll be one of those YouTube stars. Next you’ll be getting sponsors, demonstrating nail polish or whatever.”
The girls laughed. “I haven’t worn nail polish since I was like five or something.”
“Seriously?” Yumi opened a can of soda, took a long drink, and let go a little burp.
Annette grabbed a handful of pretzels from the bag. “I just don’t see the point. Why would I want different-colored fingernails or toenails? Seriously, Hunter, do guys like that? Do all the boys hang out talking about the color of a girl’s fingernails?”
Hunter didn’t hang around a lot of the guys that much. He spent more time with Yumi than with anyone else. But for some reason, in the face of Annette’s question, and with Annette sitting next to him, he didn’t want to admit to that.
“The guys mostly talk about sports. Which is the best team. Who’s going to start in the game.”
“All things you know nothing about.” Yumi said it as a joke, but Hunter wasn’t laughing.
“I do too know about sports,” Hunter said. “I just don’t care about them as much.”
“Even hunting?” Annette asked.
“Hunting is a different type of sport,” Yumi said. “It’s more real than all that our-team-is-better-than-your-team crap. And the guys do too hang out talking about girls, I bet. Just not about their fingernails.”
The girls laughed again. Hunter eventually did too. “Yeah, that’s kind of true.”
Yumi grabbed Annette’s hand and held it out. “Do you think her fingernails are so hot, Higgins?”
Annette snatched her hand back. “Yumi!”
But Hunter knew, or sort of knew, how to play this game. “Oh yeah,” he said. “Super-hot.”
“Speeeeaking of fingernails,” Annette said. “The claws on that wolf! That thing could have ripped our faces off.”
“Yeah, but I think wolves bite more than scratch, so it almost ate our faces off,” Yumi said.
“Seriously, Hunter,” said Annette in her reporter voice. She pulled out her notebook and held it close to her face to try to see. She shrugged, giving up. “What were you thinking when that wolf charged? Sorry, but I about peed my pants.” Everybody laughed. “But you just blasted the thing. What was going through your mind at that point?”
Hunter thought for a minute about how to answer that question.
Yumi burped, laughed, and blurted out, “He was thinking, Oh no! I must protect my darling Annette!”
“Yumi!” Annette and Hunter shouted together.
Yumi rolled onto her back laughing.
“I’m trying to get a good quote to help me wrap up the article,” Annette said. “How did you feel when the wolf attacked? What did you think?”
“Sorry,” Hunter said. He really was sorry to have to disappoint Annette on this. “But the answer to both questions is . . . nothing. There was no time. I had a gun. Nobody else did. It was the wolf or us. No contest.”
“That was perfect,” Annette said. She grabbed a flashlight and started writing. A moment later, she clicked her pen and put away her journalism kit. She put her hand on Hunter’s forearm, and even through her gloves and his coat, it was electric. “Thank you, Hunter. For the quote, sure. But seriously, thanks for saving us.”
Hunter ignored Yumi’s huge smile, the snarky look on her face, the way her eyes darted from Annette to her hand to Hunter and back again.
Hunter had no idea what to say to that. In the end, he spoke the first truth that came to mind. “I’m glad you came here with us.”
EVERYONE WENT OUT AGAIN VERY EARLY SUNDAY morning. Grandpa could have taken a shot at a buck, but it was only a three-by-three. He let it go. Other than that, there wasn’t a lot of action going, but, although failing to find much worth shooting was never something a hunter mourned very deeply, they felt even less disappointment than they usually did. After the already legendary hunt of the day before, everyone’s spirits were still flying high.
And when they came back into the lodge, the party was over. It was time to pack up to leave. Grandpa was wiping down the kitchen, an obsession of his, to avoid drawing ants or mice. Dad was taking it easy in Grandpa’s recliner. Uncle Rick had been back in his bedroom for a while.
“I’m used to the Sunday night blues,” Yumi said as she dropped her packed duffel bag next to the door, ready to go. She took a seat on the stool next to where Annette sat at the kitchen island counter. “When the weekend is just about over and you have to start thinking about school the next day—”
“Like, is your homework done, and do you have your books ready to go?” Annette said.
“Ugh, stop talking about it.” Hunter plopped down on the third stool and put his hands over his ears.
“But today’s even worse,” Yumi continued.
Hunter smiled at her. He understood what she meant. He was sad this was over. It felt like they’d only just arrived.
“EOHDS,” Dad said.
“What?” Hunter asked.
“End of Hunting Depression Syndrome,” Dad said. “It’s an epidemic. You come out here, come truly alive, live the adventure. Then . . . back to work, or school, or something that’s certainly not as fun as hunting.”
“I wasn’t even really hunting and I think I’m suffering from the condition,” Annette said.
Uncle Rick came down the hall from his bedroom, walking just fine now, two massive duffel bags slung from his left shoulder, a third hanging from his right.
“You ready to go home, Yumi?”
Yumi’s face lit up with a big smile. “Yeah! Are you, um—”
“Eh, I’m tired of being out here,” said Uncle Rick. “Gets kind of lonely.”
“That’s great!” Yumi suddenly pushed back her stool and hurried to her bag. “Just want to check to make sure I have . . .” She shuffled through her things, looking very busy, but Hunter thought he saw her wipe her eyes as she smiled.
ON THE DRIVE HOME HUNTER SAT BACK, RELAXING IN THE truck, seat reclined and seat heaters warming his bottom and back, while Dad’s old music played on the truck stereo. Hunter was sure he had changed somehow, during the course of this hunting experience, but one thing about him was absolutely the same. He still wasn’t a fan of the ancient songs his dad liked. He was grateful when Dad turned the stereo down.
“I’m proud of you. Your first hunt wasn’t easy for you, but you didn’t give up. You stuck with it, and you came through when it really counted. You really manned up out there. Good job.”
“If you’re so proud of me, can we listen to music that’s not from the 1900s?”
Dad laughed and tapped his screen to pull up something more modern.
“How long do you think it will take the taxidermist to have my wolf ready?” Hunter asked.
“Oh, the man’s busy. Tanning a lot of hides. Preparing tons of deer head mounts and other trophies. I’d say . . . about eight months. Sometime this summer.”
Hunter sighed. In middle school, eight months was a lifetime away. “It’ll be pretty cool. You think he can preserve the scar, make it look like the way it was?”
“Our guy is the best taxidermist in the business. Your wolf will look great. And, think, every time you look at it, or if someone new comes over and asks about it, someone will tell the story of how you brought it down.”
“But before that . . .” Hunter said. “Before Yumi shot that deer, I couldn’t . . .”
“That doesn’t matter,” Dad said. “When people tell the story of that wolf, nobody will care if you were reluctant to shoot earlier in the day. All they’ll care about is the vicious wolf. All they’ll say is stuff like, Whoa! You killed a wolf? You stopped a wolf attack? And that’s pretty cool.”
Hunter said nothing, but smiled broadly. It was most certainly not an at-least-you-got-fourth speech.
TAPTAPTAP. HUNTER FELT THE FAMILIAR ANNOYING summons on his shoulder. He glanced at Miss Foudy, who was reading something on her computer at her desk.
TapTapTap. “Hey, Higgins,” Kelton Fielding whispered. TapTapTap. “Higgins.”
Hunter leaned back in his seat. “What?”
“You bag a deer?”
Miss Foudy still hadn’t noticed them.
Hunter shook his head. He heard Kelton chuckle.
“Toldja you wouldn’t bag no deer,” Kelton whispered. “I was just about to shoot a huge buck. Eight-by-eight, at least. But Fish and Game showed up, busted that guy for his salt block. Ruined everything. It true Yumi got a deer?”
Hunter nodded. Yumi must have heard. She looked over to Hunter and smiled.
“Yumi got a deer and you didn’t.” Kelton tried to muffle his laugh. “S’matter, Higgins? Too afraid? You let a girl fight your battles?”
This was what Hunter had feared more than anything back in the woods when he’d been unable to shoot the deer. But now it didn’t bother him. He noticed Annette in the next row had heard Kelton. She frowned, and Hunter expected a classic Annette Sshh. Instead she pulled a piece of paper from her blue folder and handed it across the aisle to Kelton. She was an expert paper-passer. Miss Foudy hadn’t noticed.
Hunter risked a questioning look at Annette. She only winked, and held up a copy of the newest edition of the McCall Middle School Times. The headline: “Hunter Higgins Shoots Wolf, Saves Two Students.” There was even a picture of Hunter covering the fallen wolf with his rifle.
“No freaking way!” Kelton Fielding whispered. “A wolf?”
Hunter, Yumi, and Annette, truly friends in the great outdoors, exchanged a look and, knowing they couldn’t face worse trouble in the classroom than they had that weekend in the woods, they all three laughed.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
DEAR READER, IF YOU ARE ONE OF THOSE PEOPLE WHO reads the acknowledgements before reading the novel, be advised: a minor spoiler follows. Also, I hope this expression of gratitude will entice you to go back and read the book.
Through the course of this story, Hunter Higgins discovers the importance of teamwork in hunting. Fortunately, this is a lesson I learned long ago about writing. Hunter’s Choice, like all my books, would not be possible without the help of many people. In particular, I owe special thanks:
To Mrs. Alison Foudy, a fantastic librarian at McCall-Donnelly High School, and to Jim Foudy, the district superintendent, for hosting me in McCall, Idaho, for a crucial three-day research visit. To the small army of young McCall hunters who volunteered their time to answer my many questions about the sport they love: Annette Rooney, Morgan Vawter, Jacob Coffey-Kelly, Bryden, Tannin Grant, Seth Julian, Avery Riggs, Kelton Wattace, Sam Jacobsen, Milo Papenberg, Barett Wiltinger, Oakley Palmer, McKenzie Crockett, Seth Raimert, Jack Duncan, Wylee Onthank, Dakota Hughes, Hunter Wilcaf, Kaelin Ashley, Jordan Goodwin, Liam McCarthy, Carynn, Lavimore, and Felicia McPherson—your hunting insights were essential for writing this book.
To Nick Jeffries, Marine veteran and consummate hunter, for his advice.
To retired Army National Guard Staff Sergeant Jacob Pries for his expertise in firearms and ammunition, and for his patience with my many questions.
To my fantastic editor, Simon Boughton, for thinking of me and for trusting me with this book and series. No other book I’ve ever written has come together so quickly and that is in large part thanks to your expertise. It’s been a lot of fun working with you, and I look forward to the books to come.
To my mother, Lu Ann, for hosting me on my trips to Iowa for author visits to schools and before my hunting trip. It’s always great to see you and to get back to good old Dysart.
To my brother-in-law Travis Klima, to whom I dedicate this novel. You’re a great hunter and the best brother-in-law for which a man might hope. Thank you very much for letting me walk along on your hunting adventure, for answering so many hunting and deer questions, and for test-reading this manuscript. This book wouldn’t exist without you. I hope you shoot the biggest deer, wolf, or bear on record. It’s prime time!
To ultra-premium agent extraordinaire Ammi-Joan Paquette, for connecting me with Mr. Boughton and the good people at Norton Young Readers, for patience in the face of my many doubts, and for endless help through the years I’ve been publishing books. Joan, you were my first professional YES, and you’ve been with me every step of the way. Thanks for a great first decade in this wild writing life.
To my daughter Verity for her patience as I worked on this book and for going with me on the research trip to McCall. I’m sorry I couldn’t always play Legos or Fireball Island when you wanted, but I thank you for letting me write this book. I had fun searching for Sharlie the lake monster with you.
To my wonderful wife, Amanda, for believing in my crazy writing dream even and especially when I had my own doubts, for listening to myriad story ideas, and for tolerating an occasionally less than perfectly clean house when I was on deadline. Amanda, you are my life.
Copyright © 2021 by Trent Reedy
All rights reserved
First Edition
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Jacket design: Sarah Nichole Kaufman
Jacket illustration: Cliff Nielsen
Book design by Beth Steidle
Production manager: Beth Steidle
The Library of Congress has cataloged the printed edition as follows:
Names: Reedy, Trent, author.
Title: Hunter’s choice / Trent Reedy.
Description: First edition. | New York, NY : Norton Young Readers, [2021] | Audience: Ages 9–12. | Summary: Twelve-year-old Hunter Higgins has dreamed of, and prepared for, his first hunting trip but now that he is old enough, he wonders if he can kill an animal, especially with his long-term crush, Annette, nearby.
Identifiers: LCCN 2020041597 | ISBN 9781324011378 (hardcover) | ISBN 9781324011385 (epub)
Subjects: CYAC: Hunting—Fiction. | Conduct of life—Fiction.
Classification: LCC PZ7.R25423 Hun 2021 | DDC [Fic]—dc23
LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2020041597
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