Shit End Of A Stick

"He got the shit end of that stick I'd reckon."

Beneath them lay a moose, frozen to death. His body was forever entombed beneath the clear layer of ice that covered the lake. Part of his rack remained above the ice, a warning of what demise awaits those clumsy enough to fall in. It was almost as if they were looking at those fancy ice sculptures they saw in the town square every Christmas, just a very macabre version of it.

Bobby kicked at the antler, yowling in pain as his toes made contact with an immovable force. Trevor smacked Bobby's shoulder.

"Knock it off ya fool. We want these intact when the ice thaws. It'd look nice above the fireplace."

Bobby scoffed, glancing down at the beady eye peeking through the ice. It was as if he could see the fear of the creature. What horrible fate had it befallen before it was frozen? Did it slip in and drown? Was it injured or sick? Or did old age simply set it at an unfortunate time?

Trever grabbed the sleeve of Bobby's jacket and pulled him along as they made their way back to the bank.

"When do ya think we can get 'im?"

"I dunno Bob, whenever it gets warm again. The weather's been crazy like always. never know what 'morrow's gonna bring."

The two brothers slung their rifles into the back of the pickup and stopped to smoke a cigarette before heading back home. Each puffed silently as they watched over the lake. The groans, creaks, and hums of the icy lake filling the silence.

"Ya think it died peacefully?" Bobby mused, taking another long drag of his cigarette.

"Why's that matter? It's dead. Nothin' we can do now. 'Cept maybe make it a nice mantlepiece. Ma would like it, so would Pa." Trevor snorted. "Plus, why'd ya care? We go huntin' all the damn time. Circle of life and all that bullshit."

"Seems like a shitty way to die. At least if we shot 'im he'd a been dead quicker than a fish outta water. Can't imagine how dyin' like that felt." Bobby gave an exaggerated shiver of his shoulders. He tried not to dwell on that thought too much. How the frigid water would feel as it rushed into his lungs...

"Snap out of it ya dingus. Ya thinkin' too much again." A sickly cough then emerged from Trever's body as he hucked phlegm onto the snow in front of them. Bobby grimaced puffing another long drag in hopes it would dull the anxiety.

More silence fell between them. It was a comfortable, albeit cold replacement from their previous conversation. Bobby couldn't keep his eyes off the glob of mucus that was slowly melting through the snow. It was wenge in color- the telltale sign Trevor was getting worse.

"We should really stop smokin' too ya know. Ma would be upset if she found us out here puffin' cigs again." His brother scoffed at him, leaning over the truck's hood to make eye contact.

"For the last god damn time Bob, I'm gonna die anyway. Might as well do it doin' what I love. Ya ain't Ma, and if ya gonna act like it, I'm comin' alone to get ole Bullwinkle out there. Shut up, smoke ya cigs, and just enjoy my ever charmin' company. I don't wanna die, but even if I did I'd expect ya to at least respect my wishes. Blood is thicker than water ya shit head." He cackled, before shoving snow towards Bobby.

Bobby on the other hand was unamused- and that was an understatement. Anger boiled within him at his brother's callous relationship with life. They were barely off on their own, yet here he was saying if he wanted to die, then he should be able to. Bobby tossed his cigarette to the ground and stomped towards Trevor. Trevor backed against the car and put his hands up mockingly.

"Whatcha gonna do Bobby boy? Kill me now? Learn to laugh a little, it'll keep ya face pretty for the ladies." Another wheeze of laughter escaped the eldest brother as he watched Bobby inch closer and closer. He could see the rage in his brother's eyes, and he was on a teetering point.

"C'mon now, breath in and out. Like the fancy ol' therapist told ya about." A cheeky smile was plastered on his face by now, and Bobby lost control.

"You are so incredibly stupid? Are you not aware that when you die you are leaving? Me, Ma, Pa, even Charlie? Ya ain't comin' back! Ya gonna rot away where nobody sees you. Ya gonna be like that bull out there- cold, alone, without a soul in sight. Some trophy for the devil to come claim and hang above his mantlepiece." Bobby had grabbed ahold of Trevor's collar and was holding him mere inches from his face. Trevor could feel Bobby's hot breath as it blew across his cheeks. Trevor pushed against Bobby's chest, causing Bobby to stumble a few steps backward. Trevor straightened out his collar and wiped his hands over the front of his vest.

"You're my brother, Bobby. I didn't come to ya for moral advice. If I wanted that I'd go smack my head against a Bible a million times so I learn how to give to the needy and feed the poor. Ya don't have to like what I do, but ya at least need to show a little god damn respect. I getta do what I want now, I am in control. That animal died afraid and alone, I will do neither, and if ya ain't gonna be with me, I'mma go do it where I'm respected. Ya know what, I'mma go get that bull's skull now." Trevor's eyes bore into Bobby's like a drill. He was serious, without a word, he tossed the cigarette aside and made his way back down the bank towards the ice.

Bobby followed after, stumbling through the powdery snow as his brother ran through it like a bull. He was intent on getting to the body. As soon as he hit the ice his steps boomed across it like thunder on a stormy summer day. Bobby stopped at the edge, frantically calling for Trevor to come back.

The brother paid no heed as he got to his knees next to the rack. He pulled the hunting knife out of his pocket and began chipping away. Cracks formed around the antler and began to rapidly expand. Trevor was deaf to Bobby's pleas, uncaring of the ice as it shattered and moaned around him. He was fixated on getting these antlers.

The ice warped beneath his ministrations and water began pooling around his knees. Bobby tried to step onto the ice but could feel the fragility of it as it was now bending under his added weight. Cracking and whipping increased in volume, until it suddenly went silent. Across the open water, Trevor held up the antler with pride. Verglas had formed around his knees, breaking easily as he got to his feet. Bobby called out, desperately trying to warn his brother not to move. Trevor didn't care, he was high on his achievement.

The ice then wailed one more time, consuming another fallen creature.