Hidden Fear

Beware The Snare

I hate fall. The piles and piles of falling leaves. No matter how much you rake, burn, or bag them up.... there's always more . "You missed a pile, son." I lowered the rake and watched as my father and brother loaded ice chests and duffel bags in the back of the truck. "Where you are going," I asked out of curiosity. My older brother, Jonas, tossed two small traps in the back of dad's truck. "Dad?" They always ignore me. "Honey, Jericho asked you a question," my mother stepped through the front door with a flour dusted apron tied around her waist. She gave me a kind smile, the loving motherly kind I always longed to see. She was the only one in the family that loved me.

"What was that, Hun?" My father loaded some rifles into the back seat along with a few boxes of ammo. "I asked where you were going, dad." I raised the rake and started back on my daily chore. It wasn't like I was expecting him to answer back. I wasn't his favorite; I never have been, nor will I ever be. "Alright, Jonas. Let's roll." I watched as my father and brother climbed into the truck and waved my mother's goodbye. Once the truck was no longer in view I turned to face my mother, "why do they act like I don't exist?" She smiled," Oh, Jericho. Your father and brother love you very much. It's just hunting season, those two are just too caught up on catching something to bring home for supper."

They could at least ask me to tag along. "You've done a wonderful job on cleaning the yard, how about you come inside, and I make you a grilled cheese?" I laid the rake against the old willowy oak tree and took off my gloves. Laying them by the rake, I followed my mother inside. I took a bit of grilled cheese then dipped it again in the freshly made tomato soup. "Fall break is almost over, you excited to go back to school?" she asked. She scrubbed the dishes twice then rinsed and dried. Dad had recently put in a dishwater for her, but mom refused to use it. "Oh totally, can't wait to get knocked down in the hallway or have my lunch thrown at me." I couldn't stand going to school. Ninth grade was rough.

"None of that smart mouthing, you hear me?" Mom always hated when me or my brother got attitudes with her. The last time Jonas mouthed off; mom had thrown his computer in the pool as punishment. "Sorry, mom." I did not want to get on mom's bad side, ever. "You still friends with that little ole Rudney boy from across the street?" I took another bite of my cheesy sandwich of goodness and glanced over at mom, "Gerry?" She shrugged her shoulders and continued washing dishes," Yeah, isn't his nickname Red cause of his red hair and always flushed face?" I shrugged and dipped the rest of my grilled cheese in the reminder of soup, "only person that calls him that is his dad, besides he can't help that his face is always red. Poor guy runs out of breath easily."

"Where does dad and Jonas go to hunt? " I asked her . Surely, she would know, wouldn't she? Mom turned off the faucets and slipped her elbow length dish gloves off. She looked as if she was in deep thought, her brows were knitted, and lips were pinched into a thin line. She placed her gloves by the dish soap and took my empty dishes, " couples' miles from here. You remember where you ole pop would take you fishing?" I nodded, " Yeah, a little trail down by Hoovermill forest. Is that where they go every year?" She nodded. Drying the last of the dishes, she removed her apron and pulled it through the fridge door handle. Mom turned to face me with a serious expression," Promise me you'll never go down to the forest alone. There's no telling how many snares are scattered about."

"Snares? "I asked quizzically. Was that what Jonas had put in the truck? She nodded, " yes snares, another term for an animal trap." She took a sit at the kitchen table and sighed," you hide them under piles of debris or somewhere well-hidden and—" She smacked her hands together, "the animal is trapped. The snare's sharp teeth dig into their skin, and they can't break free." I grimaced, "That sounds extremely painful." She gave a light nod. She pointed towards the various wall mounts dad and Jonas had put up last year in the living room. "See that black bear head? Your father used a pretty big snare to trap that bad boy, and that fox is what Jonas caught in a small snare few weeks ago."

"But isn't that excruciating for the animals? I mean they basically have to lay there in pain until someone comes by and puts them out of their misery. That sounds horrible." Mom gave me a look of disbelief, "Jericho, times are hard. Prices are going up. We have to fend for ourselves and be thankful for what we can get." She patted my shoulder and headed off to her room. I waited a few minutes before grabbing my jacket and cap from the coat rack and sneaking out the door. It was a very long run to Hoovermill forest. My cheeks were chapped from the strong chilly fall breeze as I pushed my legs faster. The forest came into view and so did my father's truck.

I ran up to it and looked inside. Everything had been unloaded already. The sounds of gunshots rang in the air. "Dad?!" I ran in the direction of the noise.

I slowed my pace and looked around the area for my father and brother. "Dad!?" I called out. "Jonas!?" I called out again. Something didn't feel right. I looked around me and didn't see a single animal track. The forest was oddly silent. No birds chirped. No sounds of frogs or crickets. Not even the sound of deer. "Where are all the animals," I said out loud to no one in particular. The forest floor was covered in large thick layers of fallen leaves. Remembering what my mother said, I slowly and carefully made my way through the woods. The sudden echo of a gunshot startled me, taking a step back I felt something metallic under my shoe. Snap! "Ahhhhhh!!!" I screamed and screamed at the top of my lungs. I had gotten my left leg caught in one of dad and Jonas' snares. I attempted to pull my leg free only to cause the sharp teeth to dig further in my flesh, "Ah Shit!"

I tried again, ignoring the pain. I almost had it till my fingers slipped and I jolted backwards. Snap! "Damnit!" I yelled out in pain . I looked down to see half of my right arm with metallic teeth dug straight through the bone. My leg and arm were bleeding badly. At this rate, if an animal did appear I would look like a tasty meal. Maybe if I stand up, I can pull it off. I attempted to stand, using my remaining limbs to hoist myself up. Snap! Snap! Snap! "Shit!" I choked out . Why is there so many snares?! I laid flat on the Forrest floor unable to move. My limbs were all trapped in snares, and one had latched into my side. The sound of leaves rustling gave me hope of rescue.

"Dad! Jonas!" I yelled out with relief . "Thank goodness, I've been looking for y'all. Please, dad. I need help. ," I pleaded for my father to once in his life see me as his son and come to my aid. "Shit, I must have placed it in the wrong spot. It should have got his head," my dad said through gritted teeth. He slung his rifle around his shoulder and screamed his frustration into the empty sky. "I'm surprised he didn't bleed to death yet," Jonas mocked. He crouched low and examined his traps.

The sound of boots stomping had me worried. Who else was out here? "Well, shit. As experienced hunters, I'd figured y'all get him headfirst," Gerry's dad adjusted his camo hat and spit out a wad of tobacco near my leg. Wait, where's Gerry? Gerry always goes with his dad on hunting trips.

"Ah, lay off Mitchell. I heard those shots being fired, for a kid that can't do long distance in track he sure gave a hell of a chase," my dad snickered. Mitchell smirked and stuffed more tobacco in his gums. "He's already loaded up in the truck, going bring him home for the misses to cut up. Enough meat to last the winter." He looked down at me with disappointment, "Sorry, Jericho. No hard feelings. Times are hard on all of us. We got to do what we must to survive." I watched as Gerry's dad walked away. No! I didn't want to die! "Wait! Please no! Don't leave me here!" I turned to see my father crouched down close to my face, "Don't worry, son. We aren't leaving you; you're coming home with us."

I couldn't move. I couldn't speak. I could barely see out of my remaining eye. "Oh, stop your whining, Shirley. He was weak, he wouldn't even make through the winter." My father and brother. The people I only wanted to love and cherish me as family, sat around the kitchen table skinning, slicing, and bagging up my limbs and flesh. I didn't like seeing my mother cry. If only I could hug her. I shifted my focus to where my arms use to be. Maybe my new family will love me in the afterlife. The last thing I saw was my very own mother, who would shower me with love and affection, using a fork to pluck out my remaining eye. Even cannibals need to eat to survive ....