Story three: The Goose

“A goose with a 26in arrow sticking out of its chest landed at just the right place. The wounded bird was picked up by retired vet Bernard Levine in the back yard of his home in Toms River, New Jersey. He performed surgery and took the Canada goose to a bird sanctuary.” Metro 29/04/10

Samantha could feel the burning in the corners of her eyes. This was her last arrow. Although she’d watched the other two she had no expectation of finding them again. The first shot had seemed a dead cert; the geese were flying in a straight line overhead, there were plenty of them and each one provided a plump target. Not even a feather. Admittedly practising with a tree wasn’t the best preparation for hitting a moving target, but it meant she knew the arrow heads were sharp enough and the arrows wouldn’t disintegrate on impact.

With the second shot Sam knew she was trying too hard. This had to work! She was the one who had persuaded Jon to leave and now she had to make everything ok. Sam knew the massive flock was still passing overhead but all she could see was Jon’s pale face. Surely if it mattered enough it would all come together? That’s how it worked in films. She’d imagined the moment; dramatic music, the sad honking of the geese, her standing on the hill with the wind gently curling her hair out behind her, steady hands and eye as she focussed on the smooth flight path and brought down a fat goose before it knew what was happening. In pushing the panic away firmly, her bow arm over straightened and her arrow went wide and low.

Sam lowered her bow as the white and brown of each life saving bird blurred. She’d always been the person with the ideas, but it wasn’t so easy to think when you were wondering where your next meal was coming from. Rabbits were supposed to be two a penny, but there was obviously a knack to the snares and traps of the history books that she didn’t have. She’d tried making a fish net out of ivy, but the fish broke through. Now her brother could barely leave their den and she was sure that if she could just get him something decent to eat he’d be able to fight off whatever he’d picked up. The town they were camped out near now was too small for pilfering, the one time she’d tried she’d been chased for a good couple of miles.

The air was strangely still and Sam realised that while lost in thought the last goose had passed over. She could still hear honking though, maybe she could run and catch up. A couple of miles later she came within sight of the lagoon and stopped dead. The whole area was a roiling carpet of geese. Perfect! Much more like a tree. Sam took her time on her stance and narrowed her focus until she could see just one white breast. The arrow flew home as she released her breath. With a deafening blast the goose teleported 20 feet into the air, closely followed by the entire flock. Sam blinked away tears for the umpteenth time that day and set off in pursuit. Surely it couldn’t fly far?

Bernard patrolled the immaculate vegetable garden trying to summon a weed to pull. He looked out over the striped lawn and considered whether he could brush shapes into it. Margaret would have laughed, her happy peal engendering ever more outlandish plans to entertain her. He sighed, no-one would care either way now. Sudden barking broke his reverie, “What’s up Jake?” he called down the garden. Bernard peered down the lawn to Jake rushing back and forth in front of a bush, barking loudly. As Bernard approached he could see a large goose on its back with its head flopping down the side of the bush and a large arrow sticking straight up into the air. “Quiet now Jake,” he murmured as he studied the bird. There, a tiny tremor. Bernard rushed inside, grabbed a blanket off the back of the sofa and a big bunch of keys from the pot by the door. “Stay here boy” he commanded as he wrapped the goose and set off down the street.

Samantha watched as her goose was carried away. She wasn’t sure why she was still following this fated bird but she might as well see this through now. The man stopped in front of a large house with opaque windows, unlocked the door and disappeared. As Sam got closer she could make out the ‘veterinarian’ sign. Unbelievable, all of that work to shoot a goose and now someone was going to save it? Weren’t she and her brother more important than a goose? She stood at the side of the door and quickly glanced round. Empty, he must be in a side room. Medicine! She thought suddenly. There must be a whole room of it in there. She gave an experimental twist to the handle and the door swung inwards. Inside, the door to the pharmaceuticals stood invitingly open and Sam was quick to start scanning the shelves.

“What! What are you doing?” bellowed Bernard. Sam dropped most of her cache as she jumped back. “Drugs is it? Well you won’t find much here.” Bernard continued as he stooped to pick up a couple of the packets, expecting to see danilon or phenylbutazone. “Penicillin?” he stopped and stared at her in surprise. “You know you can’t get high on penicillin, right? What else have you got?” Sam risked a glance sideways, there was no other way out. “It’s all penicillin.” She rasped as she edged towards the door. “I didn’t know how much I’d need.” Bernard took a step back and looked her up and down; thin, dirty clothes, clean but bedraggled. “What do you need it for? The hospital will give you some for free.” His voice sounded kind and Sam surprised herself by blurting out “We’re not going back. My brother’s sick but it’s better than being there.”

Bernard rested his hand on the sideboard and tried not to think how much Sam’s auburn hair reminded him of his Margaret. He needed to call the police and let them deal with it, but thought of the long empty evening ahead, just him and Jake, and a goose who needed to be kept sedated. “Come with me,” he said. “I’ll drive.” Sam trailed behind him clutching the penicillin, sure she should protest but not wanting to lose her precious hoard. Bernard started to whistle as he compiled a shopping list in his head.