Eden's Root (7 page)

“Just like it said,” Fi murmured, patting her pack where the tablet was stored. She pushed open the heavy green door and a bell rung, startling her. As she entered, she gasped. This was definitely the right place. A full array of hunting bows lined the wall to her right and there were low beige metal shelves stacked with accessories and ammunition. Her heart picked up at the sight of so many bullets. But that’s good, she chided herself, maybe I can steal extra ammunition for practice. The owner was chatting with another man as he rang him up and he didn’t seem to notice her. Fi wandered over to the crossbows, searching for the one she’d found online.

“Can I help you miss?” The old man had come out from behind the counter. She whirled and the man’s eyes widened. It was clear he was shocked to see such a young girl. Good, Fi thought, I can work with that. She pushed it by widening her eyes and tilting her head. She twirled one curl around her finger.

“Ummm, Yes. You can help me I think,” she started, her voice pitched a little high. “You see,” she began and launched into her planned story. “My name is Marie and I have this crazy idea I guess.” The man frowned and she rushed forward, “I mean, I want to learn something about cross-bow hunting to surprise my father.” The man’s face softened and Fi stifled a smile. Yes, daddy-daughter bonding was a nice storyline. Now to add the hook, she thought.

She pretended to laugh a little and said, “I never thought I’d be doing this. I was always the one that got mad at him and Luke.” She stared up at the man with big shiny eyes. “For ‘killing Bambi’ I mean,” she smiled and bit her lip. The man nodded, his look tender. She kept twirling her hair. “But then last year when we lost Luke…” her voice trailed off.

In a calculated move Fi turned away, just allowing herself a peripheral glance to see the reaction her revelation had on her audience. The old man looked like he was going to cry. Got him, she thought. An older woman had emerged from the back of the shop and joined him. Her face was also pained as she stood behind the counter clucking her tongue.

“I’m sorry, darlin’,” the man murmured. “What can we do for you?”

“Well, the boys’ annual hunting trip passed us by this year and Papa was so sad I couldn’t take it, so I made a decision.” She shook her head. “I saved up my money to come get a cross-bow I could use. I’m not sure how I’m going to learn to use it, but I want to surprise him for his birthday in May. I want to show up with my gear and invite him to go with me in the fall.” She smiled a little half-smile to each one of them. Then suddenly she released her fingers from her hair as if she’d just noticed she was twirling it and was embarrassed. She ducked her head for good measure. She could almost hear them both say, “Awwwwwww.”

This was actually fun, she realized, surprised. In fact, she hadn’t expected to enjoy it at all. Though she wasn’t sure when she’d stopped being nervous, she realized that she wasn’t now because she was pretty good at this. Not something to be proud of really, being a good liar, she thought for a second. But it was nice to know she could do it if she must.

Fi had thought about it for a while as she planned this day. What makes a lie seem real? She realized that when she told little white lies herself, adding a detail that was real to the lie made it seem believable. Then again, if you gave too many details for no apparent reason, people start to grow suspicious. She realized that what you do is provide a little reality within an overall untruth. When she first lay in bed constructing her story she considered other options, but she kept coming back to the story about Luke’s death.

As she’d thought about her goal of learning to hunt, she realized that she didn’t just want a weapon…she wanted some help learning to use it. But how could she do that at her age without arousing suspicion? How could she spend time at a class or with a group of people? Every time she thought about it, the story of a “birthday secret” for a mourning father seemed like one that no one could fail to believe.

They would believe her, she thought, and they would help her to keep it secret. She also saw a side benefit in using this story. By including her brother’s death and his real name, she knew she would project actual pain that would give both authenticity and weight to her story. And, by making the story elaborate and forcing herself to sustain it over time while she learned, she knew that she would have the practice at deception that she needed. So what if it makes me a bad person that I am enjoying myself, Fi thought. The feeling would be useful to her.

The man and his wife gestured for her to come to the front of the store and have a seat. Margie, the wife, fussed over Fi and offered her sweet tea. Fi hated sweet tea, but she took it because Margie was so kind. The man, Ross, bustled to the wall and pulled several bows down for her. They both murmured things like, “Sweet girl, honey, and darlin” a lot as they spoke with her. They seemed to think she was younger than she was, and that was fine with her.

Ross ambled back with four bows in his hands. Two were crossbows and two were regular bows that Ross later explained were called compound bows.

“Here is the thing darlin’,” he drawled. “Why did you pick a crossbow?”

She shrugged and said in a small voice, “I read on the internet that they were easier to learn to use.”

Ross nodded, “Lot’s of folks do think that. It’s pretty true really, it’s usually easier to learn the crossbow, but the compound is allowed more places.” I don’t care about that, Fi thought, trying not to register her real emotions on her face. He continued, “And it’s easier to steady and more accurate.” That’s the ticket, Fi thought, steady and accurate are what I need. She kept her face friendly and interested.

“Besides,” he said, “Sometimes folks have a knack with these right at the start,” he held up the compound bows. “And I’ve seen a lot of excellent shots that were girls in my time.” He winked at Margie who blushed and nodded, her chin tilted a tiny bit upward. Now Fi’s eyes widened in actual surprise. Margie? This little older lady who looks like she couldn’t shoot a fly? She could see Margie shaking and realized that she was chuckling at Fi’s expression.

“Well if you can do it,” Fi said bravely, “then I can do it!”

“That’s the spirit,” grinned Ross. “Ok, well do you have any time today? I’d like to just have you come out back on our range and try a couple of these out.” Fi sucked in and nodded. Ok, she thought, let’s get started learning to hunt.

It only took two hours and a handful of successful target strikes for Fi to transform from hunting critic to fan. Thwap! Another arrow hit the target about four inches to the left of the center.

“Whoop!” Fi shouted and was joined by excited shouts from Ross and Margie, who shuffled around in a little dance like a jig. She was smiling like a banshee now, she knew, and it was one hundred percent authentic. But that was ok, she thought. She was enjoying learning to use the bow. The bow was pretty freaking awesome actually, she thought, turning her wrist to examine it again.

They were standing in the warehouse behind the shop where Margie and Ross had constructed a dusty archery range. Colorful targets attached to haystacks stood at distances, the yards marked by paint on the concrete floor. Fi’s last few arrows stood clustered in and around the center of the target, a testament to good instruction. Margie walked to retrieve them.

“That is definitely the one, isn’t it?” Ross asked Fi, indicating the bow. She nodded. Yes, this one felt the best. It was light enough for her and she had adequate strength to pull it. Her shoulder and back ached a bit right now, but she knew she’d get stronger. “Good!” he said. “So now we just have to put together some training suggestions and regimen for you, ok?”

Ross had explained all the moving parts and terminology on the bows he had selected for her. He explained the pros and cons of each one. His face lit up and he became more energized as he spoke, Fi noticed. He really enjoys this, and he likes teaching a little girl like me. She smiled.

Then, Fi got all her shooting instructions from Margie, her awe only growing as Margie patiently instructed her and moved her body, hands, and fingers into the correct position. They had her try out all the bows so she could see how they felt to her. They made some adjustments and she made some adjustments and she successfully starting shooting each bow.

Fi found that the compound bow actually felt easier for her and so she eliminated the crossbows right away. For a second she thanked herself for making the choice to find a way to get help with this…she had already made a better decision. The compound bow would be easier to carry around in the woods and she wasn’t likely to have tree stands and blinds…she was going to be standing and shooting. Then it was just a matter of selecting the best compound bow for her. At thirty yards she was already hitting the target pretty consistently with this one. She hefted up and down again, feeling its weight. Yes, I really like this one she thought. She smiled at Ross and held up the bow.

“I will take it,” she said, half-jokingly. “Is there any way I can leave it here at your place and come back out to practice here first before I start training at home?”

Margie nodded, “Sure sweetie. You should bring your mother with you for your next practice. I’m sure she would be so proud of you for this surprise you’re planning.” Though Margie’s voice was kind, Fi’s heart beat faster as she searched for a way out of that.

“Umm,” she began, her voice small again as she cast her eyes down. “That is nice of you, but Mama doesn’t really get out much lately.” Fi sighed and looked up with wet eyes. “Is it ok if I just come by myself for a couple sessions?” Ross and Margie exchanged glances. She could tell they were a little uncomfortable helping a young girl without her parents’ ok. “I promise I will tell her I all about it and that I’m coming out here. Then I will take it all home and find a place to practice at home with Mama there. Is that ok?”

“Yes, Marie,” Ross said. “That will be fine.” He took the bow from her and placed it behind the counter. She removed the release from her left forearm and handed it to him. “It took me three months of babysitting to save this up,” she said as she pulled cash from her backpack. “Lot’s of diaper changes.” Ross offered her a discount and at first she refused it, pointing out that she was already getting free lessons. But he insisted, so she accepted and kept a little more of her money. She’d take what she could get in life now, she thought, that was just being practical.

“So how did you get here honey?” Margie asked.

Fi was surprised by the question. “I walked from the bus stop on Clinton.”

“Well, that is all well and good in the day, but it’s too cold and too dark for you to go back that way.” She grabbed her keys, “Get your coat, I’ll give you a ride home.” Fi started to panic, but she realized she’d just have to think her way out of it. She directed Margie to a house a block away from her own and said her goodbye. She assured her that she would come back the same time the next day to practice. Margie waved goodbye.

“See you tomorrow honey,” she called and headed home. Fi waved and waited until Margie had turned the corner and then she walked home.

On her way home she kept repeating the shooting steps in her mind, playing them like a recording: nock the arrow, attach the release, break the bow over, raise the bow to the firing position, aim the arrow, begin the release. Fi pictured herself starting to squeeze the release gradually and steadily with her fingers, perfecting the slow, patient squeeze.

Surprisingly, Fi couldn’t wait to tell Papa about today. In some ways, she thought, this was just like the old days when he would ask her how her day was at dinner. And in other ways, she thought ironically, now her ‘day’ includes lying and bow hunting, so that was a little different. Oh well, she thought, at least it will be something positive to talk about tonight. She could tell him how Margie and Ross had planned to take her on a small hunting trip in a couple weeks. They had a friend with a reserve, they explained, who would let them go out there and give her a chance to fire her bow in the field. Fi trudged up the stairs to her home and walked inside.

“Mama?” she called. “I’m home!”

Fi was really looking forward to more bow hunting practice the next afternoon, but she also was feeling antsy to get started trying out the Glock. Its presence was weighing on her mind…and her pack, she thought sarcastically. The thing was heavy. Thinking about all the things she had to practice and learn, Fi she realized that she was going to need more time in the day. Tomorrow was a school day and she couldn’t keep wasting eight hours a day sitting in school. Though Papa was right that she couldn’t skip enough to draw attention, no one would be surprised if she missed some days here and there.

She went to go find Maggie in her studio and put a smile on her face. Time to play the game, she thought as she began forming her plan for the next day in her mind.

----------- Fi -----------

Early the next morning, Fi swung her feet while she waited in a chair opposite the school guidance counselor’s desk. Her wide-eyed woe-is-me approach was very effective, she realized. Everyone felt sorry for her and believed her immediately, no matter what she said. The counselor was shaking her head and trying to say something reassuring about her father. Fi just nodded whenever it seemed necessary. As long as they let me go, she thought.

“Of course we understand your need to take time with your father at home,” the counselor was saying. “Just make sure to stay in contact with your teachers so you can keep up with your assignments. No need to burden yourself any more by getting behind,” she explained. Fi struggled not to smile or laugh at the irony. Yes, her performance in the eighth grade was of serious importance now. She turned away to control her feelings, jiggling her feet.

“So, can I go then?” she asked quietly. “I really wanna go see my Papa now.” The counselor nodded quickly and agreed.

“Of course, of course,” she said as she placed the forged letter Fi had brought into her files. “I will let the administration know that you may be missing some days.” Fi dashed out the door before the counselor had even finished speaking. She jogged down the hallway and out the doors of the school, breathing freely when she hit the cold dry air outside. It was time to try out a different type of target practice, she thought with a grin. She wondered what the counselor would have thought about the contents of her pack.