Chapter 9: Steady hands
Noon had well and truly fallen when Tom thought it was time to test out his Dads rifle. The father and the son had been waiting for what seemed like hours. "See son hunting is about patience, you must be patient if you want to succeed." A crack broke through the bush as the pair sprang back to life. Tom slowly raised the rifle, his steady hands showed experience in the field. His breathing was controlled and steady; the scope lined up with the deer, one more small breath was taken as he controlled the rifle before slowly squeezing the trigger which brought the rifle to life awakening it from its slumber.
Tom began walking towards the deer; he carefully placed the weapon on the ground before pulling out his hunting knife. "Now son I will teach you how to respect the kill, we will waste nothing from this animal." Tom kneeled by the dying deer, he placed his hand over his eyes before forcing the knife through the skull to free it from its misery. "Ok Phil, come grab the knife." Tom swung around to see his sweet innocent son attempting to hold the rifle. "Phillip! Put that down right now!!" But despite the warning from his father Phillip continued to raise the weapon. "Like this grandpa?" Phillip was looking to his left and Tom couldn't believe what he was hearing. He stood up and began slowly walking towards his son. "Phil listen to daddy put the gun down ok!" Phillip nodded in appreciation but continued to hold the rifle, this time the barrel was pointed directly towards Tom. "But grandpa wants me to have a turn!" Phillip placed his small finger on the trigger as if he had held a rifle before. "Now what do I do grandpa?" Tom was yelling at his son but it was as if his words were not reaching the ears of the boy. Tom broke into a sprint as he raced towards the boy hand outstretched trying to grab or even knock the rifle from his son's hand. A loud blast broke through the trees as silence was once again restored to the peaceful little Forrest.