Fred's Encounter    by Joey Lisano

     Eyes darting, mind racing, Fred scanned the area in search of any deer, preferably a buck. He had 
awaited this day for as long as he could remember. He wasn’t going to let a buck escape his bow and arrow. Sure, 
he didn’t have his dad’s lookout or advice, but Fred had total confidence in himself.
     He looked over at his camp only to find his dad still sleeping. He remembered the endless stories he had heard about 
his childhood. Ever since he was eight, Fred was shooting a bow and arrow. Sure the target was a cardboard box in the 
basement, and the arrow tips were blunted, but it was as real as it got back then. He imagined the day when he would nail 
an eight-point buck in the ribs. Today, Fred wanted to make his dreams become reality.
     He smiled, as he recalled the never ending nights where he stayed up dreaming about this trip. Every night he could count, 
Fred had stayed up reading his hunting license over and over until he fell asleep. Taking your son out to an island off the 
coast of Washington was the best 13th birthday present a kid like Fred could ever ask for. By the end of the day, Fred 
planned to make today, his birthday, a memorable one with an enormous catch.

So far, Fred’s birthday had been a let down. He tried to cheer himself up by thinking how great of an adventure this was. Thinking it through, Fred realized that his birthday present was more of a catastrophic disaster. Every part of it was a nightmare. Everything! From the scorching plane ride to practically being stranded on an island, all of it just made him peachy. Instead of an ever lasting present, adventurous and monumental, as a gift, Fred felt he received depression – extreme depression.

Fred couldn’t believe his plane ride over here. Chaos reigned throughout the cabins as the plane slowly leaked air. An archaic, faulty window caused the cabin to lose some its air pressure. Covering his ears now, Fred could still hear the explosions as the pressurized cans of pop and bottles of wine began to burst from the imbalance in equilibrium. The pleasant smile ran away from his face while viewing the scene of glass embedded in one of the passenger’s face.

Trying to eradicate the thought, he took off all of his gear and tucked into a ball. Fred, horrified and squeamish, rolled endlessly on the ground until lacerations covered his back. Why not me? Why was I spared? Fred, capitulating on the discord, conceded to himself that his capricious depression was causing him to be a little more confound than he need to be. Something was different; he could sense it in the air. Wondering what seemed different, he lazily glanced upwards, across the horizon.

Just his luck! In the distance, a buck appeared at three o’clock. It was totally oblivious to the outside world. Fred, putting his gear back on, quickly regained his composure. Pumped with excitement, Fred’s hands began to shake. Adrenaline rushed through his body as his liver delivered more and more sugar into his blood. Taking him awhile, Fred, wondering if he could reach his efficacy, finally got his aim down.

He took a moment to look at his veins, which were sticking out. Appearing muscular, Fred, digressing from his goal, felt strong. His strength gave Fred the feeling of power. He was in charge now. The moment was perfect, and the aim was just right when Fred found himself flying through the air.

Landing on his back, Fred felt his hard earned money go to waste as he crushed his quiver in half. He turned to see his bow on the ground. Head throbbing, eyes burning, Fred looked up to see a giant buck staring him down. Fiercely scratching its back foot into the dirt, steam came puffing out of the beast’s nose. Fred thought to himself: don’t get on the tracks when the train’s a-comin’! With a rustling in the bushes, Fred saw three more furtive, gargantuan bucks ambush him. A faint whimpering was heard, as Fred, daunted and full of fear, foresaw his life over.

Turning on his stomach was the only defense Fred could think of since running was futile. Fred was met by a series of hooves pounding on his back. Feeling one of his ribs break, the excruciating pain became too unbearable for Fred to take. He cried to help, but all of the air had been forced out of him. Fred glanced at his camp for any aid he could receive from his dad. His mouth dropped as he saw the horrified sight of his camp torched in flames. His dad was trying to escape the tent, engulfed in fire.

Then, everything went black. Figuring he was dead, Fred opened his eyes, hoping to see heaven. Instead, he saw his father giving him the best back massage of his life. Over and over, he pounded on his son’s back. Wiping the cold sweat off his face, Fred was glad it was all just a dream, a figment of his imagination. As his father left the room, Fred noticed some unusual burn marks on his arms and legs. Getting up and stretching, Fred never felt better. He hoped that his muscular appearance was carried over from his dream to his rich life. In the mirror, Fred saw scars all down his back. Fred wondered if his birthday present was a nightmare or reality.

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