Tom loved to hunt. It was the only thing in the world that brought him joy. As a child he looked forward to going on trips with his dad, drinking hot chocolate, and sitting out in the cold waiting for a deer. He loved the deer jerky and having a new buck to hang in their living room each year. As a child growing up in Michigan, it was his favorite time of year. It was almost heaven.
Unfortunately, Tom wasn’t the brightest bulb in the stadium, or the sharpest knife in the hammer sack. I’m trying to say he was the fastest horse in the glue factory, or whatever. I’m not great with analogies. He goofed off in school, never really cared. He never really learned the common sense tools that you are supposed to learn. He had a hard time telling the difference between joking around and being serious, and he would often take a joke too far, or keep joking in a serious situation. Often, he bit off more than he could chew, whether it was a bet between him and his buddies, more work than he could handle, or failing to deliver on promises he made to his wife. He meant well, he just occasionally had a little too much fun. There was a bet at this store, who could stare at the lights the longest. Tom won $20. Now he is legally blind.
He managed to adjust to life just fine. He bought a Seeing Eye dog, and the two quickly became best friends. He learned to use a walking stick, he appreciated music more, and without sight, he was able to fall in love with his wife more. He missed hunting though. Since he could never take things seriously he never developed a great support system from friends. What little friends he had convinced him to do terrible things, like stare at a lightbulb, and were always reminding him about his inadequacies. They constantly reminded him that he could never go hunting again.
Hunting season rolled around and Tom became depressed again. He remembered all of his childhood memories and the fact that he would never be able to share them with his children. There would be no deer jerky, hot chocolate, or a new living room buck; just a bare wall where they would hang a family picture. Except the blind can legally hunt in Michigan.
That’s right, you read that correctly. As long as you have a spotter over the age of 18 with a hunting license, or can prove at one point they had a hunting license, the blind can legally hunt and use a laser sight. That’s right, blind people can legally hunt in Michigan. Take a pause here, go look it up. It’s 100% true.
Well, remember how I told you how Tom had been depressed? I may have lied. I’m bad with analogies and I’m a bad narrator. Can you really trust me? The whole time I was telling you that Tom was depressed was to garner sympathy for him. He had really been trying to convince his wife to go hunting with him. His buddies wouldn’t do it because, well, they’re just terrible people. Since the blind can go legally hunting in Michigan, he just had to convince his wife to get a hunting license. He promised her all of the foot rubs and all of the backrubs if she would just do this one thing for him. She eventually agreed.
The two put on their snow boots and their hunting jackets and headed off to the hunting grounds. She walked Tom to the perch that overlooked the forest and helped him get set up. After that, she pulled out her nail file and some papers from work and sat there, trying to catch up for the meeting she had on Monday.
Tom loaded his gun, trained it on what he could only guess was the sunrise, and fired carelessly into the horizon.
-Adam Hribar, Staff Member