This is a piece I turned in for our motif assignment. It's one of my favorite pieces I've turned in this term and I enjoyed working on it so I decided to give it a little extra love. =]
The fog of deep breathing on a misty morning surrounded me as I crouched in the elderberry bush. Those amber eyes seemed to stare straight to my pounding heart, giving away my fear. They gave the illusion of not seeing, almost fooling me into thinking I was safe for the time being. It was then that I saw the beast’s shoulder muscles contract, its hind legs disappear beneath its rump, and its jaw clench. The split second between the pounce and when the cougar lay dead at my feet seemed to last forever. The leap through the air was so filled with rage, and yet elegant and graceful. I sent up a prayer and radioed my friend as I thought about the events leading up to this day, the pistol in my hand still smoking from the barrel.
It was nearly three years prior to the day of my first kill when I had my eyes opened to the realm of nature. My entire life I turned my nose up to anyone wearing camo or chewing Copenhagen; outdoor activities were out of the question. Rednecks and Republicans were hunters and campers, not educated businessmen such as myself. I was cutthroat, but in a different sense than a puma. I did not need razor-sharp teeth or a deadly pounce to manipulate my clients; I dealt purely with names and numbers. I had a quick tongue and sharp memory. I was top of my class from the University of Ohio, and narcissistic as hell. Yeah, I knew it all.
If you ask me what drove me to make the decision I did, I’m not sure I could tell you and feel like I was telling the entire truth, because I honestly still am not sure. I guess it had something to do with my go-getter-attitude, the sign of a true entrepreneur. When I was told my job was being moved to Montana, I didn’t view it as a demotion as most men of my status would. At first, I’ll admit I was a little offended, but then I saw this as a great opportunity to show corporate that I could make something out of nothing, even in South Canada.
So began my rummaging through the Sportsmen’s Warehouse trying to find clothes that would help me fit in amongst these people. I even took to drinking Busch beer the last few weeks I was home to try molding to the area before I got there. In retrospect, I would have taken that one back; Montanans drink the same beer as everyone else. Montanans, I also learned, were no more rugged and rough than most of the people I knew from Cleveland, it was just a different kind of rugged. The attitude I had going into this state, that I was superior to these people and their way of life, was nothing short of a power trip. I viewed myself as some type of messiah, a demigod sent to save these people and show them the light of business and management. Little did I know, they would be saving me.
Over the course of the next two and a half years after I moved, I found that my progress was slow, and my assumptions wildly inaccurate. Yes, the majority of the men in Great Falls chewed tobacco and hunted big game, but they were also educated and kind. I was met with an air of hospitality that I had never known in Cleveland. I tried many things that I never would have dreamt of doing previously, and began wearing Romeos daily. I was slowly adapting to my Montanan lifestyle, when one day I was forced to evolve fully.
A buddy of mine that I met through my work had invited me to go out hunting with him. When I revealed that I had never even watched a hunting show, let alone shot a gun, he chuckled and said I could just tag along. As we got out of his Tacoma he handed me a .45 and said, “All you gotta do is point and pull the trigger if something comes at you.” Greg told me to sit in the elderberry bush and radio him if I saw anything wander into the clearing. I wasn’t entirely sure why I had a gun when I wasn’t even licensed to hunt but I didn’t argue. He took off to the next clearing over and I remember thinking this would be a great nap opportunity considering we’d been up since before dawn. I had never been much of a religious man back in Ohio. Even after my move I found it hard to accept the massive amounts of Christianity around me. That day, however, I met God, in a way that freed me from my suit and tie forever.
I awoke with a start when I heard the crash of branches breaking maybe 200 yards down the hill. I remember getting really nervous and I wasn’t sure why; I knew a deer wouldn’t come close enough to hurt me. That’s when I saw it, slinking through the foliage towards me, eyes locked onto its prey. I used to think that I panicked before exams or before a big deal with another company, but this was a whole new level of panic. It was at this moment that I learned what hyperventilation meant and the true meaning of having the shakes. I even forgot for a while that I had a gun holstered to my hip…
As I looked into the glazed over eyes that had gripped my soul for what seemed like years, I felt a rush of emotions flood over me. I was shocked, scared, angry, happy and relieved. But most of all, I felt powerful. Not because I had taken a life, or saved my own. I felt the power of knowing I was saved. I had escaped the clutches of danger by accepting a lifestyle, the people included in that lifestyle, and the God that watched over all of us. That day is the day I will remember for the rest of my life, as the beginning of my life. The day I survived.
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