One morning, a December long-ago, a week before Christmas, Bob walked into a local store in Millerton, New York. The owner, Phil, a friend, was behind the counter taking care of a customer as Bob came in from the cold.
“Late night, Bob,” he said. That wasn’t a question, it was an observation. Phil’s quick glance had already evaluated his friend’s somewhat rocky condition. “Faculty Holiday party last night?” That was a question.
“Yes, Phil. End of term faculty party and about time too. We’ve been in meetings for four days. Talking, evaluating, committee reports, financial reports. And then we went over every kid in the Junior and Senior Classes. I thought we’d never finish.”
Phil’s blue eyes twinkled from behind his glasses and he said, “Merry Christmas, Bob.”
“Yeah, finally. Two weeks without students, classes or blasted meetings. I’m loose on the world, Phil, and you’re my first stop. Got any 20 gauge seven-and-a-halves or eights?” Phil Terni’s store was the go-to source of everything hunting and fishing for the area. In the rare case when he didn’t have a requested item, Phil could get it within days.
“Going after pa’tridge, eh? There are shells in the back room. Got both sizes.”
“Thanks, Phil. Going out with Jim this afternoon. That’ll give me time to lose this god-awful headache. If it isn’t gone by then, the walk and fresh air should cure it.”
As he left with two boxes of high brass eights and a box of 12 gauge trap loads Phil said, “Give my regards to Joanne and tell Jim his gun is in.”
“Will do. Merry Christmas.”
Bob lugged the three boxes of shells to the car and smiled. Some Christmas shopping already done. A box of 20 gauge for Jim and a box of 12’s for Curtis. One box of 20’s for his Ithaca over/under. Christmas is a wonderful time of year for a shotgun. Ruffed grouse, Canada goose and duck seasons are all “in”. And the Ithaca always appreciates a present.
A half hour later, Bob’s wife Joanne pulled into Millerton. She hit a few shops, stopped for a coffee and then went into Terni’s. “Hello, Phil. I’m Christmas shopping. I want to get some of your Pendleton scarves for the kids. They’re finally grown up enough to appreciate them, and I want some advice on a stocking stuffer for Bob. I’ve already got him his Christmas present, the pair of camouflage overalls I bought here. I just need something for his stocking.”
“Just how big is his stocking?”
“Pretty large, Bob’s mother made it for him when he was a boy. And she made it big.”
“Well, I’ve got a thought. Get him a box of ten gauge shells for goose hunting. Wrap the shells in groups of three. They’ll fit in the stocking. Then fill in the blanks with tangerines and Snicker bars from the grocery. He’ll need those in his blind bag.”
“Let’s see the shells.”
Thirty minutes later Joanne left with the scarves and the shells. “Thanks, Phil. That’s a great help.”
The next day Curtis sat down at Phil’s granite counter and ordered a coffee. “You heard about Jim’s Christmas tree?”
Phil put the coffee in front of Curtis and said, “No. Bob was in yesterday and said he was going pa’tridge hunting with Jim. How come you didn’t go?”
“I was out getting a tree and helping my parents set it up. Took all afternoon. Spent the morning recovering from the faculty party. Wish I’d been with Jim when he picked his tree.”
“Oh?” Phil looked up in interest as Curtis took a sip of coffee.
“Yeah, Bob and Jim were grouse hunting near Limerock. Puja and Stella were working well and they moved 12 birds. Jim got two. Bob was still a little blurry and missed.”
Phil laughed. “Yeah, Bob was walking lightly when he came in yesterday morning. I know Puja is Jim’s Boykin spaniel. Stella?”
“Stella is Jim’s Black Lab. Good retriever. She found the downed birds after Puja pushed them up. They’re a good team. Anyway, after the hunt, Bob and Jim were walking out and Jim said he needed to pick out a Christmas tree. He found a good one, went to his car and came back shaking his head. He’d forgotten the axe. They looked at the tree for a couple of minutes and Jim closed in on its trunk, aimed his double barrel and in two shots had that tree cut down. Used the eights you sold Bob.” Curtis grinned and drank more coffee as Phil laughed. “They set it up that night. Jim and his daughter are decorating it now. The two empty shells were the first things Jessica hung.”
Julian Strauss, the local big animal vet, walked in, joined Curtis at the counter and ordered a coffee. “Hello, Phil, Curtis.”
“Merry Christmas, Dr. Strauss. Thanks again for taking care of Brandy’s foot last week. She’s back to pointing birds. What’re you up to.” Curtis took another sip of Phil’s brew.
“Going to choir practice. Bob’s wife, Joanne, is conducting a Lessons and Carols Service tonight and this is our last chance to get it right. Say, I was going to tell Joanne, but you’re here so I’ll tell you. Let Bob know that when I was at the McEnroe farm yesterday tending to a sick mare, I saw fields full of geese. You guys oughta take a look.”
“Thanks, Dr. Strauss, Bob and Don are out duck hunting this morning. I’ll tell him, and Joanne will too, so he’ll get the news. I’ll just drive over to the farm and take a look now. See you at the concert tonight.” Curtis tripped over a stool getting out the door. Phil looked at Julian and they both laughed.
“Well, Julian, you just cost me a sale.”
“Ah, Phil, he’ll be back. Now, I need to buy a present for Betsy. That’ll make up for it. Let’s look at the Woolrich coats. Something bright and festive.”
Curtis drove his Scout to Round Pond and got out his binoculars. From the road he saw that the pond was full of Canada geese with a few mallards around the edges. As he was looking, he watched a small flock of geese take off, fly over a border of trees and land in a cornfield. He focused on that field and saw several hundred birds feeding. Curtis watched another flock jump from the pond into the field. Just a couple hundred yards flight.
A maroon Jeep Grand Cherokee pulled up beside Curtis and stopped. Bob and Don, still dressed in camo from the morning’s hunt got out. Curtis pointed to another flock taking off and they watched it settle into the harvested corn field.
“That’s a McEnroe field,” Bob said. “I’ll talk to him about tomorrow morning.”
“How’d you guys do?” Asked Curtis.
Don gestured to the back of the Jeep and Curtis opened the hatch. A bag of decoys, two sets of waders and eight mallards. “Bob was using his 12 gauge pump and got a triple,” Don said. “I took my time and shot single greenheads. We picked up the decoys and were out by 8:30. Birds were still landing when we left. It’s worth another visit in a couple days.”
Bob smiled. “Yes, we’ll go back. But right now, it looks like a goose hunt tomorrow. We’ll talk at Lessons and Carols tonight. You’re coming, right? Joanne will be hurt if you aren’t there.”
“Yep, bringing the family,” Don said. Curtis just nodded.
That night in the Salisbury School Chapel Don, Jim, Curtis, Bob and their families took over two pews and, with what seemed to be the entire town, watched Joanne conduct a candlelight procession singing “Once in Royal David’s City”. Joanne had called in every singer in the area for the service and they all had come. As Bob watched, he saw Julian and Betsy Strauss walk past, singing their hearts and beliefs. It was a wonderful evening of song and celebration.
The next morning Bob and Jim followed a cold blast of air into Terni’s. They were both dressed in waterfowl camo. “Brisk out there, isn’t it?” Said Phil.
“You don’t know the half of it,” said Jim. “When I left the house this morning to go hunting with a bunch of idiots my outdoor thermometer read 15 degrees.”
“Which idiots are those?”
“This one,” Jim gestured toward Bob, “Curtis and Don. Curtis and Don are home cleaning geese and getting warm. We’re here for coffee and talk.”
“Bob,” Phil said, “Tell Joanne I really enjoyed Lessons and Carols last night. Now, tell me about this morning.”
Jim was busily warming his hands with the holiday themed coffee mug Phil was using that week. He took a hot gulp, shivered and smiled. “Finally warming up.”
Phil gestured with a hand, “C’mon, tell me.”
“We got out there early, just before 6 AM. It took the four of us the best part of an hour to set up a hundred dekes. The ground was frozen mud, so we had to pound a railroad spike with a hammer to make a hole for the decoy stake. Pounding that frozen cornfield was an endless job, we finally left the second hundred decoys in the trailer and just used half the rig. It was getting close to hunting time when Bob drove the rig out of the field and behind a hedgerow. We all had insulated pads, and a good thing too, or our rear ends would’ve frozen solid. We put a tarp and camo mesh over us and settled in. I blessed my tarp; it was warm as a blanket. Blessed the thermos of coffee I had also. Curtis had a jug too and we shared with Bob and Don.”
Bob nodded and said, “That coffee made a big difference. I actually was thinking about going back to the Jeep to warm up when you guys poured it. Got me through to when the geese started to fly. That really was what warmed me up. Geese in the air surely keep you warm. The sight of those black legs coming down is like a hot flame. Heats you right up.”
Jim took up the story, “Bob and Don were both shooting their ten gauges. Curtis and I had three-inch 12’s. Those birds were very killable at forty yards, but Bob was making the call and he likes them close for the first shot.”
“Yeah, makes for one sure kill anyway. The first rank of 15 birds was coming right across our decoys at us. Don was shooting right, I was shooting left, Jim and Curtis were shooting the inside. They started to settle and I made the call. We emptied our guns. It rained geese. We had ten birds down. Just needed two more to limit out. Jim got a single five minutes later. And then another bird flew over us high and Curtis, Don and I all fired. It came down hard.”
“I’m going to really take my time dressing one of those geese,” Jim said. “I told Curtis to pick me out one that wasn’t full of lead. I’ll hang that one for two days, then I’m planning to cook it for Christmas dinner.”
“Bring me some left-overs,” Phil said. “It’s been a while since I’ve had goose.”
“Heck, Phil, I’ll bring you a goose breast,” Bob said. “We’ve got a bunch. You can grill it. Just make sure it’s rare, if you overcook a breast, it turns into shoe leather.”
Phil smiled and said, “I’ll take you up on that. Merry Christmas, boys.”
“Merry Christmas, Phil.”
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