The cold air bit into Dave’s lungs and made him cough. He’d stopped smoking years ago when his third wife had refused to marry him until he dropped the habit, but there were still times when he could feel the tar shaking around in his chest. A steady wind blew across the fields and the sky was gray. It was the kind of day that made the world feel dead. The crops had all been harvested weeks ago and the open land reaching to the horizon only added to the feeling of isolation as Dave walked to his barn. He pulled on the handle of the tall white door and it squealed as it slid open. Inside were various machines and tools that had all been put away for the season. The engines of the mower and the tractors had been winterized and would remain silent until the world began to wake up in the spring.
It had been a good year on the farm. Some heavy rain at the beginning of the season meant they got a late start on the planting but the summer had been long and sunny with just the right amount of water. The fall had been warm and dry well into October. They called it an Indian Summer. Dave didn’t know why. He just knew it made for a nice harvest. The yields had been good enough this year that he had been talking with Rosie about taking a nice long vacation this winter. They were getting older and they were tired of the cold and the kids had all decided they wouldn’t be coming home for Christmas, so why not go somewhere warm for the season? Dave could almost feel the sun on his face and the sand between his toes.
The blowing wind rattled the barn door and brought him back into reality. He had a few more things to wrap up on the farm before he could get too focused on vacation. He got in the old pickup truck that had once been his father’s and turned the key. The engine sprang to life without hesitation. The body of the truck was weathered and beaten and a few spots of rust were starting to show around the rear wheel wells, but Dave always worked to keep the engine running smoothly. Even when everyone told him it wasn’t worth the time and money he put into it, Dave just couldn’t let the truck go. He could remember bouncing in the passenger seat while his father steered the enormous vehicle along the edge of their property, singing along with George Jones as they went. He swore he could still smell his father’s cigars every time he drove it. Dave knew he would never get rid of the truck and often found himself wondering what would happen to it after he died.
The frost-covered gravel crunched under the tires as Dave pulled out of the barn. He made his way down the road. He wasn’t surprised when he didn’t see any other cars. Farming had always been a hard way to make a living and it seemed like people just weren’t up for it anymore. In the past ten years or so, most of the families Dave had grown up with had sold their land to one of the big farming corporations and moved away. Dave would have been happy to buy the land himself, but he already had his hands full working the sizable property his family had lived on for longer than anyone could remember.
Robby was one of the few young people that still lived in the area. Dave rented him a small trailer out on the edge of his property. His parents had been a few years behind Dave in school. They never really lived up to the titles of mother and father. They spent most of their time drunk or high or in jail and neither one had been seen or heard from since Robby had turned eighteen. It came as no surprise to anyone when Robby didn’t turn out to be any different. The way he’d been brought up meant he never really had a chance. Dave tried to help him out when he could. He threw him odd jobs here and there, letting him make a little honest money. Dave knew Robby sold drugs when he couldn’t make ends meet. A little pot, but mostly pills. They were easy for him to get and he could charge more for them. At least that’s what he’d told Dave on the drive home the last time he’d paid his bail. Whenever they talked, Robby always had a plan for how he was going to get his life together. He was going to get clean and go into business with some friend’s uncle’s step-brother doing landscaping and then he’d pay Dave back for all the help he’d given him over the years. Dave knew the plans were bullshit and Robby would never change but he’d nod and smile anyway. He didn’t care about the money and he thought it was good that the boy still had hope. Lord knew he didn’t have much else.
Jolene barked when Dave pulled up in front of Robby’s trailer. She was a stray mutt that had showed up at Robby’s door last summer and never left. Dave had to take care of her a few times when Robby was locked up. Making sure she was looked after was always the first thing on Robby’s mind when he got into trouble. She always seemed nervous around Dave so he usually took Rosie with him when he had to feed her just to put the dog at ease. Jolene didn’t seem to mind the cold or the wind as she pulled at her chain and barked, trying to let Robby know someone was outside. Robby zipped up his jacket as he stepped out of the trailer. He was tall and too thin and the friendly smile he wore couldn’t hide the sunken, tired look in his eyes.
“Damnit Jo, be quiet. You know Dave.” Robby’s voice was raspy and his eyes were red. Dave wasn’t sure if he’d woken him up or if he just hadn’t gone to bed yet when he’d called twenty minutes earlier. Either way, Robby hadn’t complained. He was always willing to give Dave a hand whenever he could.
“Oh she’s alright. She’ll get used to me one of these days. Sorry to bother you with this. I’d handle it myself, but my back’s been giving me trouble lately. I hate to say it, but I’m just not as young as I used to be.”
“Come on now. You don’t look a day over seventy-five. And you know it’s no problem. I don’t mind a little heavy lifting and it’s not like I got anything better to do.”
“A young guy like you definitely has better things to do than helping out an old man on a Saturday morning. But since I already suckered you into saying yes, we might as well get to it.”
“Works for me.” Jolene sidled up next to Robby and began to lick his hand. “Don’t worry, girl, this won’t take long.”
Dave had left the truck idling so the cab was nice and warm as he and Robby drove back down the road. “Where’d you say you saw it?”
“Out in the back field a little ways. I saw some buzzards flocking around when I was out walking this morning so I went to see what the fuss was about and there he was.”
“All that time sitting in the stand during deer season without seeing anything and then one just drops dead in your backyard huh? That’s gotta make you smile.”
“Yeah it’s just my luck isn’t it? Not a bad size either. I counted ten points on him. It would have been nice to have the meat, but what can you do? I just want to haul it a little further away from the barnyard. I don’t want any coyotes getting that close to the chickens.”
“Yeah, can’t have them getting any ideas. At least nothing’s gotten to the rack yet. You can still get yourself a nice little trophy.”
“They’re yours if you want ‘em. Rosie won’t let me hang them anywhere. She says it’s tacky.”
“You just had to go and get married again didn’t you?”
“It seemed like a good idea at the time…”
Robby and Dave both smiled as they pulled into the field behind Dave’s barn. The truck bounced and rocked across the uneven field, the remnants of corn stalks cracking underneath the tires. Dave drove until the house was just out of sight and rolled to a stop. Robby got out of the truck confused.
“Where the hell is the deer? All I see is a damn hole in the ground.”
Robby stood on the edge of the hole. It was rectangular in shape. Robby guessed it was about six feet long by three feet wide and maybe five feet deep. The dirt that had been dug out sat in a pile right next to it. He kicked some back into the hole and watched it fall to the bottom.
“What the hell is this, Dave?”
Robby didn’t feel the knife drag across his throat. He didn’t even realize anything was wrong until he felt the warmth of the blood spilling down his neck and soaking his shirt. He tried to speak but the words would not come. His knees buckled and he fell to the ground. For a moment, he saw steam rising from the blood that poured out of his body, then everything went black as the Earth swallowed him.
Dave pulled a rag from his jacket pocket and wiped his knife clean. He had kept it just as sharp and pristine as it was the day his father had given it to him. He folded the blade back into its handle, hiding the strange runes that had been etched into the metal. He would sharpen it and oil it when he got home, just as he’d been taught when he was a boy. Dave’s back twinged as he dug the shovel into the mound of dirt. He knew he would be sore by the time he was finished, but he didn’t mind. Some things needed to be done by hand. He thought about sitting on the beach with Rosie. This year’s crop had been good and he had a feeling next year’s would be even better. Maybe they’d skip the timeshare and go ahead and buy a condo down in Florida somewhere. They’d be able to afford it.
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