ON BECOMING A MAN (standard:drama, 1163 words)
Author: Billy Jack Baxter	Added: Oct 14 2003	Views/Reads: 3538/2397	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
I wrote this story when I was studying short story form, but the events are true.

Click here to read the first 75 lines of the story

eyes would glaze, and he would crumple and fall dead.  Dead on the 
stony ground, where only a moment before he had been a living, 
breathing, wild creature, beautiful and graceful.  But, no more.  The 
deer would be dead and Willy's father would be proud and say, “Nice 
one, son.  Good shot.  Well you'd better gut and tag him; we got a long 
walk back to camp.” 

Then the buck would hang in a tree, salt covering exposed ribs and meat
to keep the flies away.  Hunters would drive by and gawk, stop, and ask 
who the lucky hunter was.  His father would point to Willy and say, “My 
son shot that one.  Nice, isn't it?” 

Willy's breathing slowed; he felt calm and sure.  He took a deep breath
and exhaled it slowly.  His finger tightened on the trigger.  Tighter.  
Tighter.  Then the buck moved its head, just slightly, but enough to 
break Willy's concentration and he found himself looking into the 
buck's bright, black eyes.  Eyes that seemed familiar.  Eyes no 
different from yours or mine.  Living eyes—and he hesitated.  The cross 
hairs lowered to the ground beneath the buck's belly and the rifle 
discharged. 

The buck leaped straight into the air.  When its hooves met the ground
again they were moving, trying to catch up with the does, which were 
far ahead by now.  For a moment Willy thought he'd missed and hit the 
buck.  But that was only for a moment as he watched the buck top the 
rise and vanish from sight. 

The quiet engulfed Willy again—except, except for the clattering of
stones up the canyon that could only be his father.  Willy sat, tears 
streaming down his cheeks, but he was proud of himself.  Proud that he 
had finally put an end to the senseless slaughter.  Put an end to the 
nightmares that plagued his dreams.  And, put an end, more than likely, 
to the way his father would forever think of him.  But, he didn't care 
anymore.  Because if he had to kill defenseless animals to earn his 
father's love, then he was better off without that kind of love.  He 
had made up his mind to spare the deer's life, and in doing so—he had 
become a man. 

Billy Jack Baxter 


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