Consider this: a deer in the forest has no inherent value. None. It is simply a part of nature, a part of the world, a living thing, free as life can be.
It gains value the moment the hunter's arrow pierces its heart, it becomes money as it staggers to its knees, its breath ragged and hurt. As it collapses into the floor of the forest it was part of, its death transforms it.
The hunter removes his arrow, maybe he can use it again. He kneels by the deer, considers its bloody mouth, its glassy eyes. He knows it is dead.
He pulls his knife out, slicing into the abdomen of the deer, cutting through muscle from sternum down. He eviscerates the animal, pulling steaming organs onto the cool, mossy ground.
Perhaps some crows call to each other in the branches above. They have seen the hunter, they know what he is there to do. They know he doesn't consume everything. Lazy humans, greedy crows. They know there will be something for the crows, if the hunter is successful.
The hunters binds the deer's feet together, preparing to carry it off to his truck.
The deer is no more. Now there is only meat.
A deer has no value, but meat does. The hunter can consume the meat, he can sell it, he can sell the antlers. He can mount the head on his wall for his guests to adore. Value.
In the world of men, God is money. In such a world, the hunter is the priest who leads the deer towards a redemption that the deer could never have attained on its own, a redemption that can only come from a transformation from living creature into meat.
A baptism of blood.
***
Officer Candy looked down at the shroud, thin fabric over cooling body. He noticed some of the blood had run into his leather shoe. He shifted his foot away.
"What's the name?" he asked the other officer.
"The ID says John Deacon," the other cop replied.
This surprised Candy.
"Like the guy in Queen?"
"What?"
"In Queen- the band? There was a guy in that band that was named John Deacon. I think he played the bass. You know? They did 'Another One Bites the Dust', and that other song from that movie?"
"Oh! Yeah. Well, this ain't him. This guy's black."
"Shit. So what happened?"
"Sanchez pulled him over, this guy had expired tags. Turns out he had a warrant out for drug possession. Sanchez says the guy jumped out of the car, tried to run. Got about twenty feet before Sanchez dropped him."
"So Sanchez shot him in the back?"
"That's right. Sanchez said the perp was reaching for his waistband."
"Jesus fucking Christ," Candy said, more angrily than he had intended.
"What's up with
you?"
"Nothing... it's just... it's just, you know, save it for the fucking lawyers or something. You don't need to spin that bullshit my way. You know as well as me that all these black guys reach for their waistbands, man. They wear their pants sagging half the time, they can't run unless they pull their pants up."
"So what?"
"So what? So what is that we both know what's coming our way once the city finds out that the cops have killed yet
another
black guy, not to mention we shot him in the fucking
back.