XVI

The boys were hungry, very hungry.

Neither showed much interest in the grandfather clock. They didn’t know if it would work and didn’t know how long they could go without getting something substantial to eat. The MREs were about gone, and those skimpy, dry meals had not cured their hunger anyway.

They decided to come back to the clock later, when they weren’t starving to death. Though it wasn’t their first choice, they both agreed they would have to actually kill something, cook it, and eat it, in order to have the strength to keep working on the clock.

Cal had hunted, but that had been with his dad, who always gutted and skinned the deer. A butcher in Ridgecrest always cured and cut up the meat. Cal’s mom always prepared and cooked the meat for dinner. Other than shooting the deer and eating it, Cal hadn’t really done much of the work. Besides the eating part, Lenny had even less experience, but he was complaining the loudest about the fast-approaching prospects of starvation.

While that big jackrabbit had never come back to the mansion, they had occasionally seen it in the distance, eating whatever rabbits eat. Cal had seen it again that very morning, not too far away, so both Cal and Lenny went hunting.

Getting close to where the rabbit was feeding, they split up. Cal hid behind some large mesquite bushes with his .357 ready. Lenny circled their prey, intending to scare it toward Cal, who would try to get close enough to kill it with the pistol. A .357 revolver was a powerful weapon, but Cal knew it was not accurate at long distances. If he could get close enough, he could just point and fire, killing their prey.

A hot sun was out in a clear sky and hardly a breeze stirred. The temperature was already hovering in the nineties. A shadow crossed over Cal and moved on, but he hardly noticed it. All his concentration was on the giant jackrabbit. He hoped that Lenny would not spook it too soon and end up chasing it in the wrong direction.

Cal figured they could eat for days off this one kill. He had heard that jackrabbits were not good eating, but he was hungry enough now that he didn’t care. He crouched on one knee, leaning forward on the other foot. His left hand was knuckles down on the ground. He held the gun in his right hand, cocked and ready to fire. The idea was that as the rabbit ran by him, he would sprint from behind the bushes and get off at least one good shot as close as possible.

It was a bit like waiting for the ball to be hiked, and then blitzing the quarterback. He smiled at the thought of using a .357 Magnum as a linebacker in a football game. That would be a game changer for sure.

Lenny had circled around the rabbit and was coming up on it from the other side. By being exactly opposite the rabbit from where Cal was hiding, they hoped that when Lenny jumped out, the rabbit would run directly toward Cal. At least, that was the plan.

Cal could see Lenny staring at him, trying to see if he was ready. Cal gave him a little salute, indicating all was set. Lenny jumped up, waving his arms, and started shouting and running toward the rabbit, which had been grazing quietly.

The six-foot rabbit startled to attention, glanced at the running, yelling Lenny, and bounded toward the stealthily waiting Cal. Cal rose up in the starters’ position and checked the revolver, making sure the safety was off. The rabbit was only about twenty yards away and coming fast. Cal tensed, ready to charge out of hiding and make the kill.

Before he could move, Cal heard a terrible noise above him. It felt like someone sticking needles in his eardrums. It sounded like a thousand fingernails being scratched across an enormous chalkboard. Lenny had stopped running and was holding his hands over his ears, looking up in disbelief at the sky over Cal’s head.

A giant shadow flashed by. Sensing that something was descending down on top of him from behind, Cal dropped flat onto his stomach. As he flopped to the ground, he accidentally fired the .357, sending a bullet bouncing off the dirt only feet from Lenny. The flying dirt from the bullet caused Lenny to jump, then dance to the side in a comical way.

It would have looked comical, except Cal was fixated on what was happening to the rabbit. A giant hawk reached down with colossal talons and snatched the oversized jackrabbit up into the air. A hawk? No, it had to be an eagle, or condor,
or . . . what?

At that size, it could have been a Cessna. It was the size of a four passenger Cessna airplane, and it was flapping away with the squirming rabbit held firmly in its claws.

Lenny jogged over to Cal, who was picking himself up off the ground. The two stood and watched together as their intended dinner was carried through the sky into the nearby mountains. The boys, their stomachs still rumbling, looked at each other with wide eyes.

Simultaneously, they both said, “Dude!” That pretty much said it all.