FOCUS/midwest FALL 2010

72 nowadays. Besides,” John pointed his thumb down to the lifeless girl, “she’d just about run me into a heart attack if I tried to keep up with her.”

“So how’d you end up here at such a perfect opportunity?”

Ripley leaned back onto the soft forest floor.

“I figured somebody would tag her by midweek anyway, and I’m not about to compete too hard with the raggedy-ass younger crowd. So, I just took my time and had a nice stroll in the woods.

There’s only three places where she could exit and I flipped a coin and came here. Figured there was a one in a million chance she’d make it through safe, and a one in three chance she’d come out here. Besides, this is my favorite place on Earth. You know that, Ripley? I’m just too old for the sport, but way too young to stop coming into the woods. I love it out here.”

“I know what you mean.” Ripley sat up and pulled one boot off making an old man sound as he did. “I’m no spring chicken either.”

“You know?” John said. “I seem to have come full circle. Used to be, I couldn’t wait for the kill so’s I could get back to the city.

Now, I think I’d purposely stay behind just to get a few more days out here. Nothing to go back for anymore anyway. You know?”

“Well, speak for yourself, you old geezer. I may creak when I move, but I’m still mean as shit. Nobody tracks better’n me. And frankly, I need the prize money. But, I know what you mean about being out here. It’s awful purty, ain’t it?”

“Sure as hell is!” A voice came from behind the pair.

The two men pealed off left and right, weapons in hand faster than the eye could follow.

“Relax, fellas! You guys make more noise in five minutes than this little filly did all week!” A very short man with a very big rifle raised up out of the leaves thirty feet behind John and Ripley.

“Which one of you made the shot?”

“Caspar! You sneaky bastard. A half second longer and I’d have blown a hole in your head big enough to piss through.” Ripley was stumbling up on one knee.

“Really, Ripley! You know that old .45-70 is a real piece of work. You can hear that bolt snap a mile off when you reload. I heard you get a shot off but never heard the reload. I believe your tool is empty now. Your wife says so anyway.”

Ripley looked down at his rifle, ejected the empty brass and loaded a new round.

“Busted, Ripley!” John started to laugh deeply as he holstered his huge handgun. “So, Caspar. I think I see the rat in the woodpile now. Ripley, you didn’t make the point. This old reprobate, Caspar, did! That’s why the second round sounded so far off from you. Nice tag, Caspar. You got her fair and square.”

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