Daryl's Irish Destiny
Huntin' Stuff an' Things
They both enjoyed their meals, Daryl having a very excellent steak with boiled new potatoes and fresh broccoli washed down by more beer. Niamh had the baked trout with wild rice and salad, accompanied by more white wine.
Walking back home to Niamh’s house, her arm tucked in his again, Daryl was more relaxed than she had seen him to date and was open to answering questions about Georgia. “So what do you like to do in your spare time, Daryl? When you’re not working on motorcycles and tearing up the roads.” He smiled at her playful imagery. “I like th’ woods, grew up in th’ mountains in Northern Georgia, surrounded by the woods. I go huntin’ and fishin’ every chance I get. I got some pictures on ma phone I can show ya when we get ta yer house.”
Niamh nodded, agreeing to the suggestion. “Hunting? With guns? I could never understand your country’s fascination with guns.” She says honestly.
Daryl shakes his head, his brown locks shuddering against his tanned face. “Naw. I hunt with a crossbow. Guns is too noisy, chase all the game away. I have huntin’ rifles but I haven’t used them in years. Prefer ma crossbow.” Her eyebrows raised in surprise. “Really? Is it harder to hunt with a crossbow?”
Daryl shrugged. “’S’ different. Crossbow bolts fire slower than bullets – 350 feet per second compared to ‘bout 2500 feet per second fer a rifle round. It gives th’ animal a better chance of getting’ away if it’s fast or catches yer scent. Feels more natural somehow, usin’ a crossbow. Makes huntin’ more of a skill, gotta be quiet, gotta stalk th’ animal, respect th’ animal ‘n anticipate what it’s gonna do.”
“What do you hunt?” She asked, looking up at him in the late evening light.
“Whatever I can eat. Deer, wild boar, turkey, duck, rabbit, squirrel.”
“Squirrel! Are they tasty?”
Daryl grinned. “Depends how ya cook ‘em. Squirrel stew is mighty fine with lots of parsnip and wild onion.” She wrinkled her nose in disgust and he laughed.
“Is there huntin’ in Ireland?” Daryl asked, curious as he bent to open her front gate for her.
“Yeah, I believe there is. Deer hunting, anyway but it wouldn’t be countrywide and would be regulated by permit to ensure safety and prevent decimating entire herds of the animals. I think it’s only certain times of year too.”
They reached her front door and she stood on the short step, suddenly eye to eye with him in her high heels. He blinked suddenly, and seemed to stop breathing, waiting for her to tell him what was going to happen next.
“Would you like to come in?” She said quietly. “I could show you some more about what I found out about your family. And I’d like to see those photos you mentioned.” She suggested. He was keen to spend more time with her but was respecting the boundary of client and customer that she gave so he agreed, knowing that there would be nothing else between them tonight. “I’d like tha’.” He said quietly and followed her into her house.
Sweet Jesus carol is amazing!
12/6/16