Danny
The sun had slid behind the clouds, and the temperature dropped fast. It was spitting snow again, and by the looks of the darkening sky it was going to snow for a while.
Danny trudged along in the woods but kept sight of the road to his left. He wanted to keep it in view, knowing that the road would bring him back to town. His arms hung loose at his sides. The stock of the gun was cold as ice, but Danny kept it gripped tightly in his fist. Something told him to. His vision had started to blur before it began to snow, but it was even worse now. The sky, the trees, even his own feet were fuzzy shapes. It was like he was staring through a fogged-up window.
He hurt all over. His fingers and toes were throbbing from frostbite. His head pounding. Every heartbeat sent a shot of pain into his brain. It felt as if his head might split open like an egg dropped onto the floor. He had given up trying to keep his tongue in his mouth. He let it hang out like a panting dog’s on a hot August day. His eyes were heavy. His lids wanted to close and stay closed.
Danny had never felt so tired. The kind of tired that made your body ache everywhere. Maybe he was dying and this is what it felt like. He had always been scared of dying. Of just going away and never coming back. Of having his body being buried under the ground, where the worms and bugs would get to it. He knew that when he died, according to the churchgoing folks in town, he would see his mama and papa again. That would be nice. They were up there with God, but Danny wasn’t so sure about God. He was supposed to be the one that made everything and brought everybody up to heaven when they died, but nobody Danny knew had ever actually seen heaven or God. And it seemed like everybody who went to church was afraid of dying, too. That just didn’t make sense to Danny. If heaven was so special and God so great, why was everybody afraid of dying?
Danny knew that if he stopped to rest, he might not get back up again. And Mrs. Bennett needed him. If he didn’t get help, she might die, and maybe she wasn’t ready to go to heaven either. Besides, enough folks had died already because of him, and he didn’t want someone else dying because he was too tired or too scared. Mrs. Bennett was nothing but good and kind to him, and he was determined not to let her down.
The sky was getting darker. Danny looked up and hoped that he would make it back to town before dark.
Come this way, Danny.
Danny stopped and looked deeper into the woods. The blurry outline of the three-legged deer stood in between some trees. Its tail twitched, and Danny was pretty sure she was staring at him.
“I don’t want to get lost in the woods. The road leads back to town.”
It’ll take too long that way, Danny. Besides, there’s someone in the woods who can help you.
“Who?”
I’ll take you to him.
“Are you sure?”
The three-legged deer didn’t answer. She turned and limped deeper into the woods. Danny watched her fuzzy shape disappear behind the trees and wasn’t sure what to do. He looked down at his fist that gripped the rifle—it was white-knuckled from holding it for so long and so tight. He switched hands, then began to follow after the deer.
Danny sure hoped that the three-legged deer was right.
It is the right thing, Danny. You know that. Follow the deer. She knows the way.
For the first time, Danny thought the voice in his head kinda sounded like his own.
