Story-A-Day #419: The Hunter

THE HUNTER

He didn't do it for the kill, he did it for the thrill.  It was strictly catch and release, and as much as it was about the thrill of snagging those little crustaceans before they shot off to a new place of shelter, the hunt was usually for something even bigger.

He would wade through those waters, turning over rocks as he went.  A gentle lift or role, to not stir up the sandy bottom of the lake.  He had been a crayfish hunter for as long as he could remember, and the process hadn't changed much over the years.  A lift or a role and hopefully there one would be one of the beady eyed critters staring up.

Typically they would freeze for a moment, perhaps wondering how that heavy hiding spot had so suddenly disappeared.  Their little claws would lift up, almost like they were reaching for the rock, or maybe shielding their small black eyes from the sudden bright glare of the sun.

The best thing to do at that point is angle an open hand behind the crayfish and wait for it to scoot backwards into the trap.

He flipped the new rock over and spotted the yellow-brown crayfish hunching inwards on itself.  He lowered his other had into the water and looked down at the big snuffling bulldog next to him.

"See that buddy?"

The crayfish scuttled backwards and he quickly scooped it up.  They were not nearly as mobile out of the water, and while they did wield two lobster-like claws, the clamp was a mere pinch.  He held it in front of the dog's snuffling nose for a minute, then dropped the tiny creature back into the water.

He smiled and ruffled the dog's ears, then stared up into the clear summer sky.

He wasn't really hunting for crayfish.  He was hunting for that most elusive of treasures: the innocence of youth.  Life tends to obscure the simplicity of days gone by, and the greatness of a long summer's day to a twelve-year old boy.

Sometimes it takes no more than a simple act to revert ones self back to those simpler times.  Catching a crayfish, tossing a baseball, climbing a fence or a tree.  These are the experiences that he was truly hunting...