Shades of Gray by Tim O’Brien Read Free Book Online Page A

saw his uncle watching from the toolshed door.
    â€œYou sure you never made a fence before?” the man asked.
    Will grinned in spite of himself. His uncle was pleased with his work!

FIVE
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    The next day Will set off for the trap line, confident that this time nothing would go wrong. He reached the first trap with no difficulty, and after a quick drink from the stream, he started off again, hoping that he’d find at least one rabbit to make his walk worth the effort.
    As he approached the twelfth trap, he saw that the door had fallen shut. He ran the last few steps and picked up the small wooden box. But what next? He had been too far behind to see how his uncle removed the animals from the traps and how he killed them. He must have wrung their necks, since there hadn’t been any blood.
    Will had shot squirrels and rabbits, but he’d never killed anything with his bare hands. Gritting his teeth, he pulled the trap door open. The rabbit filled the narrow box, its flanks heaving in terror. Holding his breath, Will reached in, grabbed it, and pulled it out. He felt the animal’s muscles tense under the soft fur. And in a flash, the trap was on the ground, the rabbit was gone, and Will’s forearm was dripping blood fromlong rows of deep, curved scratches. He was stunned. How had it all happened so fast?
    The cold water of the stream eased the pain in his arm, and the bleeding stopped. Glumly, Will reset the trap, noting that the green apple bait hadn’t even been nibbled on. Only the pain in his arm and the emptiness of his stomach kept him from feeling sorry for the terrified animal that had been in the box.
    On the way home, Will’s arm began to throb. He could imagine what his uncle would say when he found out what had happened: “You’re supposed to get the rabbit, not to let him get you!” Or maybe, “If you want something done right, I guess you have to do it yourself.”
    Why had he been so careless? If it weren’t for those claw marks, he could have pretended that all the traps had been empty again. And then he could have asked his uncle casually what he should do when he found a rabbit in one of the traps. Why hadn’t he thought to ask him that before he left this morning?
    Aunt Ella and Meg were hoeing the garden when Will got back. Taking a deep breath, he called, “I’ve hurt my arm a little. Can you bandage it for me, Aunt Ella?”
    His aunt hurried over. “That needs more than a bandage, young man,” she said. “Come on back to the house with me.”
    After she’d carefully washed her hands, Aunt Ella reached for a can on the mantel. “A little coal oil on that will keep it from getting infected.”
    Coal oil? Why, that was kerosene! Will braced himself for the searing burn.
    â€œThat must smart right bad,” Aunt Ella said sympathetically as she tore strips of clean white cloth.
    â€œI’m sorry you got hurt, Will,” Meg said, coming in to watch her mother bandage Will’s arm.
    â€œI’m just sorry there won’t be rabbit stew for dinner,” he said through clenched teeth.
    â€œWe’ll have rabbit stew, anyway,” Meg said smugly.
    Will looked up, puzzled.
    â€œWhen I went out to the garden this morning, there was a big ol’ rabbit eating the beet tops, so I threw a rock at him. Well, it hit him, and while he was stunned I ran over and killed him with my hoe!” Meg said triumphantly. Then she added, “Ma skinned and cleaned him, ’cause Pa had gone to the store to see if there was a letter from the twins.”
    Will felt the blood rush to his face. Here he’d walked a couple of miles and come back with nothing to show for it but some gashes on his arm, and she’d gone out to the garden and killed herself a rabbit—accidentally.
    â€œWas there a letter?” he asked at last.
    Meg sighed. “Not yet.”
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    At dinnertime Uncle Jed looked at