Bonding Time

During our entire childhood my dad worked as an orthopedic salesman for the Zimmer corporation. His job required him to work long hours and be gone 90% of the time, and the remaining 10% he dedicated to the most important thing in his life...hunting. I cannot even begin to explain how many deer heads have been mounted on our walls throughout the years. We once had a lamp made out of antlers and half of a bear that looked like it was tearing through the side of our house in our living room. Yuck.
My mother and father would fight constantly about his absence in our lives. "You're missing everything!!" was one of her frequent arguments. Eventually, and mostly just to shut her up, my dad decided to compromise. So, he started making us hunt with him. Anyone who knows me knows that I would rather die than hurt an animal, anyone who knows my brothers knows that they've probably killed more animals than they've eaten in their lifetime. They were thrilled at the thought sharing what they already did everyday with our father, and not getting in trouble for it.
One week my dad took them down to Bass Pro Shops, and they stocked up. I don't think they left until they had bought every camouflage item the store carried. Bows, arrows, boots, pants, jackets, vests, hats, gloves, even underwear, which I still don't understand.
I guess when you're super into killing animals for sport you and your friends split the cost of leasing property where you think a lot of game will be. At least that's what my dad and his buddies did. The place they were leasing was about 2 hours away from our house. It was a huge piece of land with a barn to store their 4-wheelers, a forest with a tree stand on every tree, and four lakes, each with it's own duck blind. If hunters had their own heaven, this was it.
When morning came on the day of their outing I thought for sure my brothers were going to die of excitement before they even left the house. They had been up since 7:00 am, waiting for my dad to get ready so they could head out. All of a sudden my dad's beeper started buzzing. The looks on my brothers faces as they realized their hunt was about to be called off was devastating even for me. Sure enough my dad had an emergency at work and rushed off to the hospital leaving behind two sad little boys.
My dad had set up one of those deer shaped, foam archery targets in our backyard. Determined to hurt something, my brothers gathered up their bows and arrows and went outside for some target practice. I decided I'd go with them, mostly because I had never shot a bow and arrow before and wanted to try.
It started out fun. We took turns picking a place on the deer and seeing who could get the closest to shooting it. Then, in the bushes next to the target we heard rustling.
My brothers immediately loaded and pulled back their bows, waiting to end the life of whatever came running out. I can remember watching their weak little arms shake from the tension of the strings, and the sounds of them breathing as if a Velociraptor was about to charge out of the woods. They had almost given up when their prey leaped from it's hiding place, it was my kitten Tommy. Before I could scream "Stop!!" there were arrows raining from the sky. Luckily, they had terrible aim and Tommy ran up and jumped into my arms, unharmed.
"What the hell is wrong with you?" I yelled at them.
"We didn't know it was Tommy!" my brother replied "You're not supposed to let her out here anyways!"
This was true, my mom would kill me if she knew I had let her outside.
"I didn't let her out. The door must have been left open."
"Well, we're gonna tell mom you let her out and almost got her killed."
"By you! You're not even supposed to have your bows out here without dad. If you tell on me I'll tell on you, too."
"If you tell on us, we'll shoot you and your dumb cat!" my littlest brother shouted.
"Then I'll have two things to tell on you for!" I shouted back.
I decided I should take my cat back into the house before my mom saw her out there, so I turned around and started walking away. I made it about 20 ft. before hearing the sound of the bow being released. The noise was quickly accompanied by excruiating pain in my leg, I looked down to see an arrow sticking out of my left thigh.
Luckily, my brothers had two different types of bows. The older one had a compound bow, which definitely would have shot the arrow through my leg. But the younger one, who shot me, had an old longbow that only lodged it in about an inch.
I cried for about 10 seconds, and then realized the ass beating my brother would get if I could just make it inside to tell on him. It wasn't often that I truely believed there was no way I could be in trouble for this. I turned around to look him dead in the eye, and not even the tears on my face could mask my smile. I limped triumphantly to my house, up the stairs of our porch, and through our front door.
"Mom!" I screamed, as I flung the door open.
No reply. I limped into the living room, she wasn't there. I yelled up the stairs, she didn't answer. I looked in the kitchen, the dining room, the bathroom, she was no where to be found. Then I heard the metal doors on our basement slam outside. She had gone down to our freezer to get a box of bagel bites to make us for lunch. I went to meet her at the back door, as I walked through the doorway of the kitchen the feathers on the arrow hit the molding and the arrow fell onto the floor just as she walked in.
"Ben shot me in the leg with his bow and arrow!" I yelled, pointing at the cut in my thigh.
She didn't even look at the cut before responding "I saw a cut on your leg earlier Megan, stop trying to get your little brother in trouble."
"What! I have lots of cuts on my legs and they're probably all from him! This one is in the shape of an arrow tip and it's still bleeding. The arrow is on the floor!"
"So, the arrow magically ended up right next to you as I walked in the door?" she asked as she opened the box of bagel bites and laid them out on a pan "Why don't you go play outside and I'll call you when lunch is ready."
"Mom! Ben shot me in the leg and you won't even look at the wound!"
"Megan, just go to your room and calm down. I didn't raise you to speak to your mother like this or to lie to get your brother in trouble."
I was so angry, I picked up the arrow and pushed it in front of her face. "That's my blood, mom! That's my blood!!"

I spent the next five days in my room as punishment for lying about being shot, and for letting my cat outside. To this day my mom doesn't believe that my brother did anything to me.