Valeka Cruz

Dad and Grandpa returned from their deer hunting trip and parked the old, blue GMC pickup truck in the gravel driveway of Nana’s house. I rushed out the backdoor, slamming it behind me, excited to see them because they’d been gone all day. Dad lowered the tailgate while Grandpa swooped me up and twirled me around. I giggled joyfully until I caught a glimpse of grayish brown fur on the cold metal truck bed. My smile faded as I pushed myself away from him and he set me down on the ground.

I walked to the tailgate and saw two solid bodies laying there. I touched their antlers and stared into their open but lifeless eyes and wondered what the last thing was that they saw.

Este venado, Dad said, patting the smaller animal’s firm shoulder, this one was a clean shot.

A clean shot. As if that made it better. They dragged each one out of the truck bed by their antlers.

This one was a 10 pointer, my Dad said, sounding proud of himself. I didn’t know what that meant. 

Grandpa, what does 10 pointer mean? 

You see all of these branches on the antlers? The tips of those are called points. They start out as buttons and grow into antlers as the buck gets older, he explained.

So he wasn’t a baby?

No mijita, he wasn’t a baby.

But he had babies, right grandpa?

Probablemente, mijita.

Won’t his babies miss him? Won’t his deer wife be sad when he doesn’t go home?

Grandpa and Dad said nothing and continued moving the deer.

The giant pecan tree between Nana and Guelita’s houses became a hanging tree, its branches creaking as the carcasses dangled and swayed. The deer smelled of iron and dirt and wildness. I looked at their hooves and wondered how far they had walked. I touched their mottled fur and felt its roughness.

As if on cue, Guelita exited her small, wood framed house with a slam of its rusty screen door. She hobbled towards the deer, her back hunched and crooked, and placed a tin bucket under each of them as they hung by their hind legs. Drops of blood fell into the buckets creating a slow, tinny melody.

Grandpa, what do deer eat?

Matitas, mijita.

Why did you kill them?

Because it is good meat y todos podemos comerlo.

But can’t we just buy meat at the store? These deer had babies and lady deer wives.

There is nothing wrong with it if we eat it.

What if something eats you?

Que, mijita?

You killed the buck to eat it. What if something comes and eats you? You have babies and a wife. What if it says it's okay to kill you because it will eat you?

Nothing is going to eat me, Grandpa said sharply.

What if something wants to eat me?

Nothing is going to eat you, mijita.

I was not convinced that I wouldn’t be eaten.

I cried watching the bodies swing in the air, twisting and turning as Dad pulled the hide away from the muscles and meat. They looked like raw, bloody butterflies. Silver skin and sinew glistening in the late afternoon sun.

Grandpa wrapped the hearts in a scrap of old cotton cloth and tied the bundle with a piece of  jute rope. He proudly presented the offering to Guelita. She kissed his forehead, whispered something indiscernible, and skulked down the path to her home. 

I cried as dinner was being prepared by my Nana and Mom that evening, the smell of meat frying in cast iron skillets permeated every corner of the small kitchen. I cried tears onto the white table cloth as I placed the silverware next to the dinner plates. 

Guelita returned for dinner and frowned at the sight of my tear-stained face.

Para de llorar, she hissed as she pinched my chubby arm. 

Dar gracias por el sacrificio de los venados. 

I wiped my tears on the back of my hand. I didn’t want to eat the deer.

Guelita, what did you do with their blood?

Me lo bebí.

Why did you drink it?

Me da más fuerza, she said.

Wasn’t the blood cold?

La sangre solo es tibio cuando está en el cuerpo y el corazón sigue latiendo.

What did you do with their hearts?

Me lo comi, she said, her eyes full of fiery light.

Why did you eat them?

Para que los venados puedan seguir viviendo en mi, she said, her lips curling back, exposing yellow teeth.