Post by Deleted on Apr 9, 2013 11:22:37 GMT -5
For those who don't know, I wrote a book. It is a historical fiction which follows the basic timeframe of U.S. History taught in 8th grade (colonies through the Civil War/Reconstruction) which I teach. I wrote the book with the hope that it could be used as an entertaining way for teachers to engage students. The story is of about a 13 year old boy in modern-day Indianapolis who is given a set of old family journals kept by his ancestoral teens in his family history. When he begins to read the journals, he is transported into the body of the teen who wrote the journal and experiences history first hand. There are 7 journals in the book. They happen in coastal North Carolina (Blackbeard), the Yadkin Valley of North Carolina (Daniel Boone), East Tennessee, then part of North Carolina (Watauga Settlement--State of Franklin--attempted colony of Transylvania in Kentucky), Vincennes/Lafayette, Indiana (Tecumseh/William Henry Harrison and Battle of Tippecanoe) Metamora, Indiana (Underground Railroad using Whitewater Canal), and Corydon, Indiana (Battle of Corydon/Morgan's Raid--only other pitched battle of Civil War fought on northern soil besides Gettysburg.
My book has been bought and will be published by the Indiana Historical Society Press.
One chapter, Cody goes back in time and experiences a deer hunt. I will share that chapter with you here. I hope you enjoy it.
Chapter 2
The Journal of Edward Carter
Part 2
Cody did not know what to make of this whole situation. What had actually just happened? He had pretty much ruled out a dream. Was it a hallucination? Perhaps it was something he ate, or maybe he was coming down with something. Whatever it was, Cody was sure there must be some reasonable explanation. He could not possibly have really just gone through what it seemed that he had gone through. He decided it would be best if he took a little break from the journal reading and to start fresh later that evening. Cody texted his friend Jake and they agreed to take their skateboards and hang out at the playground for a while. Then after supper, Cody planned to return to the journal of Edward Carter and expected to read on in a more normal fashion.
After a mediocre supper of leftover spaghetti, Cody excused himself to his bedroom. He was surprised to find himself dealing with a case of nerves. Why am I so nervous, he thought, I am only going to read an old journal. Yet he could not shake the overwhelming sense of uncertainty about what had happened when he first began to read that journal. For a moment, he thought he might lose his spaghetti, but he was able to calm himself enough to sit back down in front of the old, leather bound book. He looked at the book and talked himself into the probability that there indeed had been a simple and reasonable explanation to whatever it was he had experienced earlier today…and besides, he thought, it had been pretty darned cool, after all. Cody took a deep breath and used his index finger to peruse the page and find where he had left off. “There, Blackbeard’s death, that is where I stopped,” he whispered nervously. With all the determination he could muster, Cody began to read on.
It was early the next morning, still dark outside, when I felt someone’s hand on my shoulder, giving me a nudge… as Cody read these words on the yellowing page he realized it was happening again. The swimming sensation in his head, the roller coaster butterflies in his stomach, and the dark spinning mine shaft, all just like it happened earlier. This definitely was no dream and it must not be a hallucination either, thought Cody. The next thing he knew, Cody’s eyes were fluttering open and he felt a hand gently nudging his shoulder to wake him. “Edward, son, get up, we need to be getting’ after some game. Come now, I have our guns ready to go. Get dressed and let’s go” said Edward Sr. Even though he had just been wide awake in his bedroom, Cody now felt the extreme grogginess of being jostled awake in the pre dawn darkness. He sat up in his bed which had a strange feel to it. His mattress was very soft and saggy. It felt as though it was a huge pillow case stuffed with straw. He swung his legs over the edge of the bed and his feet found the floor. He looked under the bed and saw that his impression of his mattress appeared to be accurate. He noticed that it was sitting on top of a bed frame that had ropes criss-crossed and stretched tightly to act as a net to hold the mattress. This bed would take some getting used to, thought Cody. Still groggy from being awakened, Cody tried to make sense of what was happening. Edward Sr. had said something about going after game. What game? Oh, yes, thought Cody, the deer hunt. Remembering that Edward Sr. had told his son that they would be going after a deer to replenish the family’s meat supplies helped snap Cody from his groggy state and filled him with excitement. Maybe I will finally get to shoot a deer, Cody thought, but then he wondered if that would actually count, since it was in this fantasy world, or whatever this place was.
Edward Sr. had laid some clothes on the foot of the bed for his son to put on. “Where is the cammo?” Cody asked. “What do you mean by cammo?” replied Edward Sr. “Camouflage clothes,” replied Cody, “we aren’t just wearing our normal work clothes are we?” “Son, you must still be sleepin’ for yer’ talkin’ plumb nonsense!” Cody realized that hunters in this time must not have worn camouflage clothing. He decided he had better drop it. “Yeah, I guess I must have been having a strange dream when you woke me up” he replied. “It must’ve been a whopper, I’ve never heard ye’ spout such gibberish!”, replied Edward Sr. as he grabbed up two long rifles and headed out to the front porch. Cody quickly got dressed and joined him. “Looks like it going to be a fine mornin’ for huntin’”, said Edward Sr. “With this west wind I believe we’d be better off goin’ over near the spring and sittin’ up on the little rock ledge that looks out to the West. There’s some minerals in the rocks and soil around that spring that the deer crave this time of year and the wind will be in our faces and the sun at our backs. I’ll wager we won’t have to sit too long this mornin’.” “Sounds good, Pa” replied Cody, still not used to using that word. Edward Sr. led the way and Cody tried hard to stay right in his tracks. Cody was impressed at how silently the large man could move through the woods. He seemed to be able to feel his way through the darkness of the early morning. They had walked in near silence for about 10 minutes when Edward Sr. stopped. He turned and motioned for Cody to sit next to him on a rocky outcropping that jutted out over a steep drop of about 15 feet. Looking down from this height at the moonlit forest floor reminded Cody of the other time he had gone deer hunting, only then he had been sitting on a seat mounted atop a ladder stand, not a rock face. The eastern sky at their backs was beginning to brighten and the once brilliant stars of the night sky were starting to fade. It was still too dark to make out many details on the ground around them, but Cody could see the glimmer from the spring that sat at the base of this small rise. Occasionally, they could hear animals walking nearby. Cody gripped his rifle and waited in nervous anticipation. He had been wanting to bag his first deer since the first time he sat in a deer stand. He wondered if he would be up to the challenge if the moment presented itself. He didn’t want to fail in front of Edward Sr. He had been warned by his own father about buck fever, the ailment that attacks some hunters right at the moment of truth and makes it nearly impossible for them to hold their weapon steady enough to shoot. He decided it would be best to put such negative thoughts out of his mind as quickly as possible.
After about 20 minute of sitting in the exhilarating chill of the early morning, there was finally enough light to make shooting a possibility. Edward Sr. leaned in and whispered to Cody, “Steady now, deer should be movin’ toward their beddin’ areas, let’s stay real still. Remember what I taught ye’. Scan with your eyes, not your head.” Cody was on full alert. He felt that all of his senses were in tune with his surroundings. He wondered how long he would be able to hold this together. He didn’t have to wait much longer. Within five minutes of Edward Sr.’s coaching, Cody heard the snapping of a twig come from his right. He tightened his grip on his rifle and very slowly looked in that direction. He didn’t see anything at first, but in a moment he saw a flicker of movement. Then, seemingly out of nowhere, stepped a fine young 8 point buck. The animal seemed relaxed and unaware of their presence. The buck was headed right for them. Cody felt his heart rate quicken and felt a surge of adrenaline rush through his system. It was all he could do to keep from jumping out of his skin, but he knew he must try to keep his movements imperceptible. The buck had made its way over to the spring just 15 yards in front of Cody. When the animal lowered its head to take a drink from the spring, Cody realized that it was his opportunity to raise the rifle and take aim. As he raised the weapon, Cody was afraid that his thumping heartbeat must be so loud that it would surely frighten the deer away. He had never experienced such a rush of energy and emotions. Somehow he was able to calm himself. Just at that moment, he remembered a line from a movie that he had watched in class one time when a young boy was preparing to fire a similar weapon… “aim small, miss small,” Cody whispered. He looked down the long barrel of the gun and placed the little bead at the end right behind the buck’s front shoulder. He let out a deep breath and gently squeezed the trigger, just the way his own father had taught him to shoot. SHHPOWWW! Cody heard the gun blast but he couldn’t see anything. He had been temporarily blinded by a brilliant flash of gunpowder right in front of his face and the resulting cloud of thick white smoke. That was the one thing Cody had not been prepared for. He was shooting a flintlock rifle, not a modern gun. He quickly shook off the temporary shock and blindness from the gun blast and tried to see what the result of his shot had been. He heard the deer bound off in the same direction from which it had come. Had he hit the mark or missed? Edward Sr. quickly relieved his apprehension. “Good shot, my boy. He won’t be goin’ far.” Even as he heard these words, Cody could hear the buck crash about 40 yards away. He had done it! He had killed his first deer, and it was an 8 point buck at that! Then he came to the sobering realization that he would not have a trophy to show for his efforts. I finally kill a buck and I can’t even show it to anyone, he thought, oh well, at least I have the experience…maybe it will help me when I hunt again for real.
Cody and Edward Sr. worked their way down off of the little rise and went after the fallen buck. As they approached the animal, Cody was flooded with a new batch of emotions. He felt a combination of pride, excitement, and sadness. Cody had not been prepared for the overwhelming emotional experience of the taking of life from such a large and marvelous animal. He felt such a rush of conflicting emotions that he actually began to shake uncontrollably. Edward Sr. couldn’t help but notice what the boy was going through and attempted to comfort him. “It is a powerful thing isn’t it son? I know just what you are feelin’. You feel good, sad, and pert’ near everything in between, all wrapped up in one. Well son, that is what a hunter should feel. The good Lord put the beasts of the field out here for our benefit. They are beautiful and noble animals. They provide for us and help to sustain us. We should respect them for offerin’ up their lives for us” Edward Sr. said as he gently put his hand on Cody’s shoulder. “Indian folks say prayers to honor the spirits of the game they kill. I don’t know if that buck has a spirit, but I always feel like we owe them some respect. That is why it is right proper for you to feel the way you do now. I still feel it too, and I’ve been doing this for a long time.” Cody was calming down now. Edward Sr.’s words had made good sense to him. Cody was glad to understand the mixed emotions he had just felt and he hoped he would feel that way again whenever he had a successful hunt. It was a good sort of feeling, almost like getting to know a part of you that you didn’t even know existed…an ancient part of you that was somehow connected to history.
“Well, we better get to work. This deer ain’t gonna skin itself”, said Edward Sr. as he bent over the fallen buck and reached for the knife sheath strapped to his leg. Edward Sr. opened the sheath and pulled out the knife. It was no ordinary knife. It was more like a beautifully crafted work of art. The fixed blade was about 4 inches long and the handle was a little bit longer and very thick. The eye catching handle appeared to be made of bone or perhaps antler. It was intricately carved with delicate images of deer, elk, buffalo, and bears. Cody had never seen a knife like this. Before Edward Sr. could begin the process of field dressing the buck, Cody had to inquire about the beautiful knife. “Did you make that knife, Pa?” he asked. “Good heavens, no” Edward Sr. replied. “Haven’t I ever told you the story of this knife?” “Not that I can remember”, Cody replied. “Well, after we get back to the house and bone out this meat, I will tell it to you. You might want to put that story in your journal too.”
My book has been bought and will be published by the Indiana Historical Society Press.
One chapter, Cody goes back in time and experiences a deer hunt. I will share that chapter with you here. I hope you enjoy it.
Chapter 2
The Journal of Edward Carter
Part 2
Cody did not know what to make of this whole situation. What had actually just happened? He had pretty much ruled out a dream. Was it a hallucination? Perhaps it was something he ate, or maybe he was coming down with something. Whatever it was, Cody was sure there must be some reasonable explanation. He could not possibly have really just gone through what it seemed that he had gone through. He decided it would be best if he took a little break from the journal reading and to start fresh later that evening. Cody texted his friend Jake and they agreed to take their skateboards and hang out at the playground for a while. Then after supper, Cody planned to return to the journal of Edward Carter and expected to read on in a more normal fashion.
After a mediocre supper of leftover spaghetti, Cody excused himself to his bedroom. He was surprised to find himself dealing with a case of nerves. Why am I so nervous, he thought, I am only going to read an old journal. Yet he could not shake the overwhelming sense of uncertainty about what had happened when he first began to read that journal. For a moment, he thought he might lose his spaghetti, but he was able to calm himself enough to sit back down in front of the old, leather bound book. He looked at the book and talked himself into the probability that there indeed had been a simple and reasonable explanation to whatever it was he had experienced earlier today…and besides, he thought, it had been pretty darned cool, after all. Cody took a deep breath and used his index finger to peruse the page and find where he had left off. “There, Blackbeard’s death, that is where I stopped,” he whispered nervously. With all the determination he could muster, Cody began to read on.
It was early the next morning, still dark outside, when I felt someone’s hand on my shoulder, giving me a nudge… as Cody read these words on the yellowing page he realized it was happening again. The swimming sensation in his head, the roller coaster butterflies in his stomach, and the dark spinning mine shaft, all just like it happened earlier. This definitely was no dream and it must not be a hallucination either, thought Cody. The next thing he knew, Cody’s eyes were fluttering open and he felt a hand gently nudging his shoulder to wake him. “Edward, son, get up, we need to be getting’ after some game. Come now, I have our guns ready to go. Get dressed and let’s go” said Edward Sr. Even though he had just been wide awake in his bedroom, Cody now felt the extreme grogginess of being jostled awake in the pre dawn darkness. He sat up in his bed which had a strange feel to it. His mattress was very soft and saggy. It felt as though it was a huge pillow case stuffed with straw. He swung his legs over the edge of the bed and his feet found the floor. He looked under the bed and saw that his impression of his mattress appeared to be accurate. He noticed that it was sitting on top of a bed frame that had ropes criss-crossed and stretched tightly to act as a net to hold the mattress. This bed would take some getting used to, thought Cody. Still groggy from being awakened, Cody tried to make sense of what was happening. Edward Sr. had said something about going after game. What game? Oh, yes, thought Cody, the deer hunt. Remembering that Edward Sr. had told his son that they would be going after a deer to replenish the family’s meat supplies helped snap Cody from his groggy state and filled him with excitement. Maybe I will finally get to shoot a deer, Cody thought, but then he wondered if that would actually count, since it was in this fantasy world, or whatever this place was.
Edward Sr. had laid some clothes on the foot of the bed for his son to put on. “Where is the cammo?” Cody asked. “What do you mean by cammo?” replied Edward Sr. “Camouflage clothes,” replied Cody, “we aren’t just wearing our normal work clothes are we?” “Son, you must still be sleepin’ for yer’ talkin’ plumb nonsense!” Cody realized that hunters in this time must not have worn camouflage clothing. He decided he had better drop it. “Yeah, I guess I must have been having a strange dream when you woke me up” he replied. “It must’ve been a whopper, I’ve never heard ye’ spout such gibberish!”, replied Edward Sr. as he grabbed up two long rifles and headed out to the front porch. Cody quickly got dressed and joined him. “Looks like it going to be a fine mornin’ for huntin’”, said Edward Sr. “With this west wind I believe we’d be better off goin’ over near the spring and sittin’ up on the little rock ledge that looks out to the West. There’s some minerals in the rocks and soil around that spring that the deer crave this time of year and the wind will be in our faces and the sun at our backs. I’ll wager we won’t have to sit too long this mornin’.” “Sounds good, Pa” replied Cody, still not used to using that word. Edward Sr. led the way and Cody tried hard to stay right in his tracks. Cody was impressed at how silently the large man could move through the woods. He seemed to be able to feel his way through the darkness of the early morning. They had walked in near silence for about 10 minutes when Edward Sr. stopped. He turned and motioned for Cody to sit next to him on a rocky outcropping that jutted out over a steep drop of about 15 feet. Looking down from this height at the moonlit forest floor reminded Cody of the other time he had gone deer hunting, only then he had been sitting on a seat mounted atop a ladder stand, not a rock face. The eastern sky at their backs was beginning to brighten and the once brilliant stars of the night sky were starting to fade. It was still too dark to make out many details on the ground around them, but Cody could see the glimmer from the spring that sat at the base of this small rise. Occasionally, they could hear animals walking nearby. Cody gripped his rifle and waited in nervous anticipation. He had been wanting to bag his first deer since the first time he sat in a deer stand. He wondered if he would be up to the challenge if the moment presented itself. He didn’t want to fail in front of Edward Sr. He had been warned by his own father about buck fever, the ailment that attacks some hunters right at the moment of truth and makes it nearly impossible for them to hold their weapon steady enough to shoot. He decided it would be best to put such negative thoughts out of his mind as quickly as possible.
After about 20 minute of sitting in the exhilarating chill of the early morning, there was finally enough light to make shooting a possibility. Edward Sr. leaned in and whispered to Cody, “Steady now, deer should be movin’ toward their beddin’ areas, let’s stay real still. Remember what I taught ye’. Scan with your eyes, not your head.” Cody was on full alert. He felt that all of his senses were in tune with his surroundings. He wondered how long he would be able to hold this together. He didn’t have to wait much longer. Within five minutes of Edward Sr.’s coaching, Cody heard the snapping of a twig come from his right. He tightened his grip on his rifle and very slowly looked in that direction. He didn’t see anything at first, but in a moment he saw a flicker of movement. Then, seemingly out of nowhere, stepped a fine young 8 point buck. The animal seemed relaxed and unaware of their presence. The buck was headed right for them. Cody felt his heart rate quicken and felt a surge of adrenaline rush through his system. It was all he could do to keep from jumping out of his skin, but he knew he must try to keep his movements imperceptible. The buck had made its way over to the spring just 15 yards in front of Cody. When the animal lowered its head to take a drink from the spring, Cody realized that it was his opportunity to raise the rifle and take aim. As he raised the weapon, Cody was afraid that his thumping heartbeat must be so loud that it would surely frighten the deer away. He had never experienced such a rush of energy and emotions. Somehow he was able to calm himself. Just at that moment, he remembered a line from a movie that he had watched in class one time when a young boy was preparing to fire a similar weapon… “aim small, miss small,” Cody whispered. He looked down the long barrel of the gun and placed the little bead at the end right behind the buck’s front shoulder. He let out a deep breath and gently squeezed the trigger, just the way his own father had taught him to shoot. SHHPOWWW! Cody heard the gun blast but he couldn’t see anything. He had been temporarily blinded by a brilliant flash of gunpowder right in front of his face and the resulting cloud of thick white smoke. That was the one thing Cody had not been prepared for. He was shooting a flintlock rifle, not a modern gun. He quickly shook off the temporary shock and blindness from the gun blast and tried to see what the result of his shot had been. He heard the deer bound off in the same direction from which it had come. Had he hit the mark or missed? Edward Sr. quickly relieved his apprehension. “Good shot, my boy. He won’t be goin’ far.” Even as he heard these words, Cody could hear the buck crash about 40 yards away. He had done it! He had killed his first deer, and it was an 8 point buck at that! Then he came to the sobering realization that he would not have a trophy to show for his efforts. I finally kill a buck and I can’t even show it to anyone, he thought, oh well, at least I have the experience…maybe it will help me when I hunt again for real.
Cody and Edward Sr. worked their way down off of the little rise and went after the fallen buck. As they approached the animal, Cody was flooded with a new batch of emotions. He felt a combination of pride, excitement, and sadness. Cody had not been prepared for the overwhelming emotional experience of the taking of life from such a large and marvelous animal. He felt such a rush of conflicting emotions that he actually began to shake uncontrollably. Edward Sr. couldn’t help but notice what the boy was going through and attempted to comfort him. “It is a powerful thing isn’t it son? I know just what you are feelin’. You feel good, sad, and pert’ near everything in between, all wrapped up in one. Well son, that is what a hunter should feel. The good Lord put the beasts of the field out here for our benefit. They are beautiful and noble animals. They provide for us and help to sustain us. We should respect them for offerin’ up their lives for us” Edward Sr. said as he gently put his hand on Cody’s shoulder. “Indian folks say prayers to honor the spirits of the game they kill. I don’t know if that buck has a spirit, but I always feel like we owe them some respect. That is why it is right proper for you to feel the way you do now. I still feel it too, and I’ve been doing this for a long time.” Cody was calming down now. Edward Sr.’s words had made good sense to him. Cody was glad to understand the mixed emotions he had just felt and he hoped he would feel that way again whenever he had a successful hunt. It was a good sort of feeling, almost like getting to know a part of you that you didn’t even know existed…an ancient part of you that was somehow connected to history.
“Well, we better get to work. This deer ain’t gonna skin itself”, said Edward Sr. as he bent over the fallen buck and reached for the knife sheath strapped to his leg. Edward Sr. opened the sheath and pulled out the knife. It was no ordinary knife. It was more like a beautifully crafted work of art. The fixed blade was about 4 inches long and the handle was a little bit longer and very thick. The eye catching handle appeared to be made of bone or perhaps antler. It was intricately carved with delicate images of deer, elk, buffalo, and bears. Cody had never seen a knife like this. Before Edward Sr. could begin the process of field dressing the buck, Cody had to inquire about the beautiful knife. “Did you make that knife, Pa?” he asked. “Good heavens, no” Edward Sr. replied. “Haven’t I ever told you the story of this knife?” “Not that I can remember”, Cody replied. “Well, after we get back to the house and bone out this meat, I will tell it to you. You might want to put that story in your journal too.”
