Three Bullets a Crows Christmas

Three Bullets: A Crows Christmas

It was Christmas Day but Eb was alone; he had chosen that. He was lonely but he had chosen that, too. The sound of bells and carols, “Noel”, trickled up from the valley following the flicker from occasional glimpses of colored lights below under the crown of a constant hue. As he shuffled quietly through the snow, he rarely looked back or even up. When he did it was only occasionally, looking up to squint through the big falling snowflakes to pick out a route under the cathedral of trees and casting a quick look behind, subconsciously, checking his tracks…and his back trail, more out of habit than need.

Somewhere, back there in the din of town was his brother, Sam, his last remaining family, hosting a party. Eb had been invited but didn’t even bother to respond, it wasn’t just that he didn’t like parties but also he hadn’t talked to his brother since his last deployment with the Army. Being over there had changed Eb but what occurred at home had changed him more. His father had passed on this night, last year, while he was away. In the aftermath, Eb, was not happy about how Sam handled things in his absence. So, he strode on and did not look back after he crossed the ridge and dropped into the next valley and then another.

Eb hadn’t needed “Christmas” or much of anything else for a long time now. Instead, he was going to do a little camping to small game hunt and trap. His plan was to camp on this evening of the 25th then start hunting on the 26th of December. After he found a place and set up he sat down by his small fire, twisted open a bottle of his newest best friend, said, “Merry Christmas” to it and swigged a good slug back. Then he reached up to a place on his chest, just under his neck line to rub an item that wasn’t there anyway. He shook his head and took another swig and as he tipped his head back he noticed a glimpse of a light up the far hill and he thought he could almost hear a jingle. “Funny” he thought, “There’s no road up there and surely no one else would be out tonight. Maybe it is a star.” It flickered again. He chuckled out a, “Bah, humbug! What are next; three ghosts and an angel?” He paused, reached for the necklace that wasn’t there again and listened. For a second, he thought the air pressed as if an answer was about to come. He shook his head, laughed and mumbled, “There ain’t no such thing as miracles.”

It might seem minor to others, a simple necklace, especially one that has no jewels, gold or silver but to him it had meant everything. It was his “mojo”, his “medicine”. His Dad had given it to him when he was twelve as a good luck charm that had seemed to work. It wasn’t an idol but, as his Dad told him, it was a prayer vessel that connected them. The simple rawhide strung through a bullet case and a bear claw had seen him through times thick and thin. He had worn it faithfully growing up hunting, before sports events and even with his dog tags in war. He only took it off to send home to his father when he had heard that he’d struck ill. When he came home, his brother told him he didn’t know what had happened to it, it had just disappeared. Sam also had a bullet necklace so he should have understood what it meant, he should have sent it back, at the least, he should have kept it safe. “What does it matter?” Eb thought, “The silly thing didn’t work anyway.” Then another glimmer from the hill, like a star and the chime like jingle from the hill but far too low, definitely in the woods…

“What the hell? Maybe Santa got shot down,” Eb sarcastically thought as he got up and threw his overcoat on, “I’ll just go up and see if he needs any help.” As he started up the hill, he figured what he was going to find was an attractor at a bobcat trap. It seemed to him that he’d never find a place to hunt alone and he’d never find peace. The glint of light must be off the moon but the “star” was so bright…he climbed on.

As he got close, the “star” had become concealed but he was drawn in the last few yards by the jingling sound. He carefully moved into a large tall tree. Eb was right, there were no wise men, no sleigh, no angels, and no ghosts just…three bullets bound together and hanging from rawhide. Eb gasped, “No.” He looked around and then tentatively reached up and pulled down the collection of three engraved bullets that had been dangling from a branch...There was aged, red ribbon hanging off them. Sure enough, on each case were engraved initials, his, his father’s and his brother’s. Hesitantly, he popped off the bullet seated in the top of his case and as had been a custom; inside was a note! He carefully pulled out the slip of paper kept safely inside, he unrolled it and read, “Dear Eb, Dad is too weak to write but wanted me to pass along his thanks but that this bullet is yours, only. It was your gift. We have been his gifts and that’s all he wants. Please take this back and take his from Grandpa and come home safely. Merry Christmas. P.S.-I’m sending you mine too, Love, Bro.”

Eb looked up to the sky and smirked, “A miracle, an angel or a ghost?” he asked rhetorically. The cynic looked around, and then squinted through the snow and then up into the tree. There, he saw other metallic objects scattered and dangling under a large nest, a crow’s nest. Of course, crows love to steal shiny objects and bring them to their nests. These bullets were somehow grabbed up by a bird endeared to the shine of the cases. The note was real. What are the odds that these would end up here, now, that the light hit them just right, that…? Then, thinking some more, Eb just put his head down for a long time. He took a knee. Passing elliptical eyes may have noted an occasional heave and shrug of his shoulders. Finally, Eb rose, turned on his heel and started back, it would be a long walk and he’d be late but he would make it to his brother’s party and that wouldn’t take a miracle…

Merry Christmas!