Bronco of 96
The Saga BeginsBy Patsy H. ManleyAuthorHouse
Copyright © 2009 Patsy H. Manley
All right reserved.ISBN: 978-1-4490-2597-7Chapter One
The dawn breaks over Wilson Creek on the back twenty-six acres of the Manley homeplace. A teenage boy sits in his deer stand and waits patiently. He has been tracking a buck with a large rack. There is a noise to his left. He lifts his muzzleloader quietly. He looks down the barrel and sees a small doe with a calico fawn. Several days earlier Bronco had spotted the playful fawn grazing comfortably in the front yard of his home.
Even though today is an "either sex" day, Bronco decides to let the pair pass safely. He knows the fawn will never survive without its mother. He decides he will wait for another deer to cross his path.
Deer hunting is a lonely adventure. It requires a keen sense of the surroundings and complete silence. It is difficult for a teenager to sit still-virtually impossible to be silent. But this was not Bronco's first hunt. His father taught him the fundamentals of hunting when he was six years old. A short time later, he killed his first deer.
Bronco was daydreaming about that first kill and failed to hear movement to the rear of his deer stand. He turned slowly in the seat. He caught a glimpse of something in the bushes below him. The head was visible. He counted eight points. The deer moved slowly and Bronco fired. The buck walked a few steps before dropping to the ground.
"Congratulations, Bronco," he said to himself as he climbed down from the tree. "Just wait until Dad sees this one. He'll freak out. I'm sure this head is worth mounting. I want this one to hang over the fireplace in my room. It'll look great."
Bronco hears a voice in the distance, "Son, did you get him? That big buck turned before he reached my stand. I hoped he would come your way. That buck has to be one of the largest ever killed in this area." His dad patted him on his back. "Way to go, son!"
"As soon as I saw his rack, my heart started beating so fast I didn't know if I could hold my gun steady to fire it. I hit him just below the shoulder. He went a few steps and then fell. I'm gonna mount this one. Man, it's gonna take both of us to drag him out of the woods. How much do you think he will weigh?"
Looking the deer over, Bronco's dad said, "Son, this one's a whopper, and I don't mean one from Burger King. Beautiful head! He might go 175 pounds. Yep, this one's a definite mount."
"And it will hang above the fireplace in my room."
"You can try it, son, but I'm not sure that'll work. One time you had your red fox hat and my coyote hat over the mantle. If you recall, my hat is a full coyote: ears, eyes, legs, everything." His dad paused so Bronco could remember. "Later you woke up screaming. You said the eyes were shining and the ears were moving. We had to take both hats down and put them in the gun room. After that, you had no more problems sleeping."
"Ah! Come on, Dad. I was only nine years old. Get real! I've heard that story so many times even I believe it."
"OK, Bronc. If you think you can sleep with this buck on your wall, then you'll have it before your birthday."
"Thanks, Dad. Help me drag this monster out of here."
Bronco and his dad laughed and joked all the way to the clearing where the four-wheeler waited.
Four weeks later the mount was complete. It was referred to as "Bronco's monster deer." It was so awkward and heavy that it took both Bronco and his dad to hang it over the mantle. Bronco had no problem going to sleep that night; he didn't anticipate any dreams or nightmares; but then, he couldn't foresee the future.
Chapter Two
That night a full moon hung over the Manley homeplace. Bronco's bedroom was bathed in moonlight. It was bright enough for him to see the monster head over the mantle. He stared at the large buck's profile. It turned slowly until it faced him. Bronco silently rolled out of bed. As he crossed his room to the fireplace, the mount returned to its original position. Fascinated and spellbound by this apparition, he was drawn to the eyes that reflected the moonlight. He placed his nose on the deer's nose and looked deeply into the sparkling eyes.
Suddenly the room was aglow. Light came from all sides. Bronco was not afraid; he was very calm and interested. Something great was about to happen. A lighted doorway appeared and he stepped through it. To his surprise, he was carrying an armload of firewood.
He glanced around a large room where students sat at small tables or on long benches. His mom, Patricia, was walking toward the front of the classroom. She carried a yardstick like a flyswatter that could strike where needed.
Studying the room carefully, he saw bare wood walls and lanterns overhead. He watched his mom as she walked to the blackboard. Written clearly on the board was the date: March 6,1755. He could not believe his eyes.
What happened to him? He remembered seeing the mounted head with the sparkling eyes turn toward him. He remembered touching nose to nose with his "monster deer." And as he looked deeply into the hypnotic eyes, the mount must have propelled him through a time warp that placed him in the past.
Patricia faced him and spoke clearly, "Bronco, thank you for bringing in the firewood. Please put a couple of sticks in the heater for me." As always, she was polite and quiet-spoken. She had been teaching for 17 years.
"You've grown into such a healthy young man. I'm glad that you are home from the Charles Town Academy. You are such a great help. I appreciate you chopping and stacking the firewood. If you have some time when you finish, would you work with Michael and Jonathon on their math? They have improved so much since you have been acting as their big brother. It's difficult for 10-12 year old boys to concentrate on schoolwork. I remember 10 years ago when you sat in their place. I had a difficult time convincing you that math was a necessity."
"Mom, you are such a charmer. You know exactly how to talk me into helping you out with these two juvenile delinquents." He spoke toward Michael and Jonathan. With a laugh he said, "I'll be happy to help the little twits with their math."
He walked over to a table where two young boys sat. They were giggling and making faces at him. One resembled his good friend Michael while the other appeared to be smaller, younger, and was not as open with the playful ribbing.
The table next to them was occupied by the other 12 year old boy in the class. Bronco did not act as a big brother to Clifton McClain. When the McClains first arrived in 96, Mrs. M. had welcomed Clifton to her classroom. But his violent outbursts and disruptive behavior made it necessary for his older sister Mary to accompany him each day. She worked with him one on one. She had offered to tutor him at home, but Mrs. M. thought if would be good for the boy to be around some children his age.
Bronco was surprised that he recognized Mary. She had long, blond hair and beautiful blue eyes. He knew immediately that he had strong feelings for her. Another young woman sat close to the front of the room. Somehow he knew her name was Susan and she helped Patricia with the younger children.
"Bronco," his mom interrupted his daydream. "Wipe that stunned look from your face. Either join us as we work through our math problems, or go back to splitting firewood."
Michael whispered, "She caught you daydreaming, huh? Who were you dreaming about? There're only a couple of girls in...
