The Deer Path
By: Kurt Reno
Tags: Short Story, Short Fiction

The old soldier stood on the ridge. From the crest, he looked out across the landscape. His eyes followed the dusty road from where he was standing, through the gray-green plain, to the small woods and lake where he and the young soldier were headed. They had separated from their unit to do some scouting. To see what they could find out about the enemy, where they were, how many there were, and anything else that might help them. What the old soldier and the young soldier found was that, in the mostly treeless country, there were few secrets hidden from all but the dullest eyes. There was no enemy here now. The dozen or so bomb craters confirmed. Knowing that was valuable, too.

The young soldier carried his weapon across his shoulders, less elegant than proper form, but more comfortable and practical for longer distances. They had been walking so much these later days that the weapon felt quite at home there. In fact he noticed it was beginning to wear out a spot through the uniform at the apparently inadequate shoulder. He looked at the uniform of the old soldier, who also carried his weapon that way. The material at the shoulder was a fresher color than the rest of that faded uniform. It was obvious it had been replaced at least once.

The old soldier and the young soldier were standing on a spot that, while not a mountain or even a hill, was the high point for some distance in every direction. The plants and grass were thicker here, and it seemed an obvious spot to take in the plains. There were two or three patches of open dirt. There were marks in the dirt, small split-hoof prints. The old soldier noticed that the young soldier was looking at the prints.

“That’s from deer”, he said.

“That’s what I figured”, answered the young soldier.

“Deer’s good to eat”, said the old soldier.

“Sure is”, answered the young soldier.

The two of them scanned the landscape again, this time looking for deer. Nothing. But the young soldier noticed a well-worn path heading off to the right from the high point. It was too narrow to be a path for people, so he went over to take a closer look. He saw many hoofprints pressed into the dirt.

To the left of the high point was the road, carved into the ground by tools, maybe even by machines. The two soldiers made their way onto the road and started downward. The road was a straight line connecting the high point and the lake, the shortest distance between the two.

The air was clear and dry, and the sun was off to the right in the cloudless sky. Over the past few days they had learned to judge distances quite effectively in these conditions.

“I figure half an hour,” said the young soldier.

“To the lake? Sounds about right”, answered the old soldier.

They walked mostly in silence. The young soldier had stopped asking the old soldier about war, and battles, and killing, and dying. About why they were there, and how it would end. His curiosity had faded to a sense of mystery and disgust, fairly matching that of the old soldier. When they talked, if they talked, it was about other things.

The road was fairly level, even when the ground rolled up and down a bit. It was at times carved into the ground, at times laid on top of the ground. After about ten minutes, the old soldier noticed a narrow but well-worn path leading into the side of the road square from the right.

“Your deer path”, he said to the young soldier, pointing.

“Yeah, you’re right,” answered the young soldier.

He stopped, turned his head, and followed the deer path with his eyes backwards to the vantage point on the ridge where they had stood, confirming that it was the same path. He walked over to the other side of the road, and saw that the path continued. The young soldier could make out that the path eventually broke back to the right. As he had suspected, it led eventually to the lake.

“Why wouldn’t they just go in a straight line? From the grass to the water?”, asked the young soldier. “It’s fastest.”

“Maybe they know something”, answered the old soldier. “I bet they wonder the same thing about us. They have their own logic.”

They again scanned for deer. Again, nothing.

“I’m tempted to take the deer path,” said the young soldier. “I mean, it does go to the lake.”

“I know what you mean,” answered the old soldier. “Maybe they know something.”

They stood for a moment, then continued on the road towards the lake.

The old soldier’s name was Tim. The young soldier’s name was Tom. It was written right on their uniforms.