LAST
NIGHT AT TRAPPER'S CABIN
BY
E.D. Wald
John Fitzpatrick had just settled back in his recliner, anticipating the triumph of the Cowboys over the Sea Hawks when he received the phone call from hell.
"Hey Fitz, how 'ya doin' buddy?"
"Great Jed. You watchin' the game Want a buck on the Hawks? Man, I've got money down everywhere on this one."
"Yeah, listen Fitz, I got a little problem, need your help."
"Well sure, Jed, anything. Whats wrong?"
"You remember my cousin Howie? He came for deer season a couple of years ago? The one from L.A.?"
John groaned. "Remember him? I still have nightmares every time I think about that hunt. That guy is a disaster lookin' for a place to happen."
"Yeah, well, he called me a little while ago He drew an out-of-state moose permit this year. He's really excited, wants me to go out with him." Jed got a pathetic whine in his voice. "Fitz, I don't want to go out there alone with that idiot, I don't care if he is my cousin. Opening is a week from next Saturday. How about going with us? Just for the week-end?"
John scannned his brain for an excuse. "Marge 'll kill me. I promised her I was through hunting this year. Can't you find someone else this time?"
"I called old Trapper, His arthritis is acting up on him, but he says we're welcome to stay at his cabin. In fact, he says we would be doing him a favor. He'd like for us to check on his mule. Would you believe he lets it wander around loose up there all summer? The fool thing stays fairly close to the cabin, I guess, and then Trapper takes him down to the farm in the winter."
Fitz snorted, "What are we supposed to do with him?"
"Just put him in the corral and call Trapper when we get home.He'll have someone come up and get him. Calls him Henry, says he'll follow like a dog." Jed gave a heavy sigh. "That's not a problem. I'll take care of Old Henry. We'll be in where it's warm, I'll bring steaks and beer. Oh God, please help me out with this one, Fitz. I'll make it up to you, I swear I will."
Jed and Fitz stood below the off-ramp in the airport on Friday afternoon, watching for Howie. He was the last one to enter the terminal, probably due to the fact that he was having a little trouble navigating. Dressed in camouflage from head to toe, he looked like he had stepped out of a Beetle Baily cartoon. His cap was askew, pants legs poked down in his boots, and each time he bumped against the wall, the paraphanalia he had attached to his belt clanked and jingled. The silly grin on his face was furthur proof that Howie had had more than his share of the little bottles passed around by the flight attendant.
Jed hissed through his teeth. "Oh man, this is just what we need.." He turned to Fitz, "What now?"
"Get his baggage check for me, and then take him outside and walk him around in the cold air. "I'll pick up his stuff and we'll load him in the Blazer and get him to the cabin. I don't mind tellin' you pal, the tab's goin' up on this favor."
The stars were just fading next morning when the three huddled around the pot-belly stove drinking coffee. The sky was turning pink above the horizon, tinting the frosted ground, promising a beautiful day.
Howie sipped his coffee carefully, keeping his head in a level position. "Sorry about last night, guys. I felt like I needed to unwind when I left work. Guess I unwound a little too much."
Jed and Fitz both spoke at once. "Yeah---it's okay---no problem---it could happen."
Jed put his coffee cup down. "Time we were gettin' out there. Get your gear together, Howie." he grinned maliciously, "better tie your boot strings, too."
Don't forget your hunting permit." Fitz said. "If you remember, last time up here you left it in your bag and the game warden wasn't too happy."
The morning hunt produced no moose. When the sun was high the three men returned to the cabin for some lunch and a rest, planning to go down toward the creek in the late afternoon when the game would be coming down for water.
Howie had managed to consume a six-pack of beer with his lunch, and was fired up to hunt. He collected his gun and ammunition pack. "I'm goin' back out for a while. You poor tired old guys take it easy. I'll be back in a couple of hours."
"Don't get lost, Howie. Mark yourself a trail or something." Jed fumbled around in his jacket pocket, "Here, take my compass."
As Howie went out the door, Fitz smirked. "We'd be better off if he did get lost. What a blow-hard. Do you suppose he knows what a moose looks like?" Jed and Fitz stretched out and had snoozed for a while when they were brought up by rifle fire. A few minutes later, Howie crashed through the door bouncing around like a loose football.
"I got one, I got one!" Right out there," he gestured toward the back wall of the cabin, waving his rifle. "Spotted him in the trees. He was just standing there chewin' some grass. I sighted him in and KER-BOOM!! He dropped like a ton of brick!"
Fitz jumped up and grabbed the rifle, ejecting the remaining shells and threw it on the couch. "You damned fool, you're gonna get someone killed," he snarled.
Jed put on his boots. "Let's go have a look."
They followed Howie out through the trees and spotted the carcass laying in some tall grass. "Oh my God, Howie, you've shot Old Henry," Jed spoke barely above a whisper.
"No!" Howie protested. "It's a ---see the---" His shoulders sagged. "Oh man!"
"That does it," Fitz turned on his heel and headed for the cabin. He's your cousin, it's your mess. Jed and Howie slowly followed Fitz back to the cabin.
"Maybe we could call a vet, maybe he ain't dead." Howie said.
"He's dead." Jed replied.
After a somber supper, Jed put on his jacket and went out to the little tool shed .H.e returned with a shovel and a pick .
"Come on, Howie."
" Where we goin?"
"You take this pick and shovel and dig a hole big enough to bury that mule. Get started. I'll find a lantern and be out in a few minutes."
"What are you going to tell Trapper?" Fitz asked. "Nothing,." Jed answered.
"Gonna dig a hole, bury the damned mule, head for town and put that two-legged jaskass out there on the next plane west."
"Jed shook his head, muttering to himself as he went out the door swinging the lantern. "Old Henry. Trap loved that mule."
The Blazer was filled with heavy silence as they wound through the trees toward the highway next morning. "Just you guys remember something, "Jed spoke up. "We ain't ever gonna' tell anyone what happened at Trapper's cabin last night. Okay? Specially Old Trapper. I feel like a Judas."
"Amen," replied Fritz.
|