Chapter 1 - An Unexpected Education
Emma called one morning, quite early.
"Can you get here fast? A coyote just killed one of my geese!"
"Sure," I replied, "Is he still there?"
"The little bugger dragged it off into the bush and I can hear him and his pack arguing over the pieces."
I grabbed some shells for my Krag-Jorgensen and jumped in the truck, heading down the road to her place close to the lake. As I turned off the road into her laneway I slowed right down, trying to be as quiet as possible, and when I saw her I pressed my finger to my lips to let her know to be quiet, then got out of the truck, leaving the door open so it wouldn't make a noise closing. Sliding some shells into the chamber and magazine I headed off quietly in the direction she pointed, and sneaked toward the noise of the coyotes as quietly as I could. I only got one shot off before they spotted me and melted into the bush, but I did roll one of them and then shot him again before he could limp away. I picked him up by his hind legs and carried him back to the truck.
Emma was spitting sparks when I walked into to her yard with the dead predator. She hated coyotes, mostly because she loved her little flock of geese, and this was the third time she had lost one.
I told her, "I saw maybe four or five more coyotes so you had better keep your 'boys' in their wire pen for a while."
She asked me, "Can you eliminate these coyotes?"
"I'll try," I said.
I went home and got a few jump traps. I set them using the few remaining pieces of the torn up goose as bait, and wired the traps to small cedars. Chances were that the pack would sneak back at night to get what they had left when I shot.
Emma invited me in to wash up and have a coffee. She was pretty upset. All her geese had names and she had a sort of motherly, protective feeling for them.
I told her, "Call me if you hear a trap snap or if a coyote is struggling in a trap and I'll come to finish him off."
I had known Emma for a number of years now, starting back when I was in school. She had retired early from teaching in the city and had moved to our little community when her husband had drowned during a holiday in Hawaii. I first met her when she asked me to mow her lawn and from then on she often asked me to do little jobs for her over the next few years. She was a nice woman, and she had even helped me proofread and edit my essays during high school. Emma volunteered at the community library, and I often saw her there as I used to stop in and read "The Saturday Evening Post", "Outdoor Life," "Guns & Ammo" plus a few other magazines on a pretty regular basis. As I got to know her I enjoyed helping her with various jobs, as she was a nice woman, and she always treated me as an adult.
I had started to notice her female attributes more and more in the last year or two. Although she was middle aged and graying, she was agile and quite pretty. She had a quick mind and quick reactions as well as a good sense of humor and a ready smile. I wasn't above sneaking a peek at her body whenever I had the chance. Working together on some of her projects I had many times looked down her shirt front or up the edge of the leg of her shorts.
That evening the phone rang and it was Emma again.
"I think we've got one trapped – I hear all kinds of noise out there and I'm pretty sure it's one struggling in a trap."
I rushed down to her place and sure enough we had a good sized male caught, so I popped him in the head and reset and re-baited the trap. I didn't think they would come back for a while after the one was trapped, but it wouldn't hurt to try anyway.
Emma was delighted with our success, and invited me in for a coffee and a chance to wash the blood off my hands. I cleaned up and sat at her kitchen table while she found some crackers and cheese.
She turned, looked at me, and said, "Maybe you deserve a beer for that instead of a coffee."
I thought it was pretty nice of her to treat me as an adult even though I had just turned eighteen that spring, so I quickly told her, "I'd like that a lot."
"I was just headed for bed when I heard the noise," she said. "I was going to watch baseball on the TV."
I finally figured out that she was explaining why she was wearing her nightgown and housecoat. I lingered over the beer, and she brought me another one. When she sat down her housecoat slipped open a ways and I could see her nipples poking against her night gown.
She must have seen me looking because she pulled her housecoat together a bit and said, "I saw you peeking – seems the last year or two you sneak a look whenever you can – don't you?"
Since I detected a bit of a smile on her face I said, "I guess you caught me that time – but what about all the times you didn't?"
She just laughed and said, "You men are just like that – but at least it beats you liking boys."
We both laughed and I was pretty relieved that she hadn't taken offence. Her housecoat slipped open again after that, but she pretended not to notice me looking at her.
I finished my beer and told her I'd come back a couple of days later with a predator call and try to nail another coyote with my rifle.
"Good" she said, "Let's keep at them until that gang of scoundrels is eliminated or they at least leave me alone."
Two mornings later I went fishing at dawn and landed a nice trout. I was hoping for a few more but they quit biting so I packed up and decided to drop in at Emma's to check the traps again. I knew she liked trout so I brought it to her house after I had found the traps were untouched. She must have just woken up when I had pulled into the laneway and she said she barely had time to straighten her hair before I knocked on the door.
Emma was really pleased with the trout and said, "Nothing as tasty a good fresh one like that – it'll make a nice supper for me." She added, "I'm making toast and coffee, so stay and have some."
It sounded good to me so I took off my boots and then washed the fish smell off my hands. Emma was hustling around making the breakfast and she asked me to butter the toast when it was still hot, as she was busy making coffee. I was standing next to her at the counter doing the toast when I looked sideways and could see down the front of her night gown as her robe had slipped open.
She noticed and said, "Gosh, you don't miss much do you?"
I replied, "I take whatever I can get, and it's not all that much these days."
She just laughed it off.
When we were eating our toast she asked, "What did you mean when you said 'it's not all that much these days'?"
I had to think a bit before I answered her, I didn't want to get her mad at me or think I was a creepy, so I phrased my answer carefully.
"Well, the girls just don't seem all that interested in a guy like me with an old rusty truck and that doesn't have a regular job, can't dance hardly at all and doesn't like music all that much."
She pressed on, however, asking questions about how I was doing with the girls I knew.
"I think what you are trying to say as nicely as possible is that you aren't getting lucky, right?"
"Well yes," I finally admitted. "I'd sure like it if I could even get one to let me feel her up or take off her bra, but so far it's not going well."
"Well, they don't know what they are missing," she said. "I think you would be a nice treat for any young girl. But I guess that's why you are so easily excited around me whenever you get a chance to see something."
