A Turkey for Jerry
into an oak tree rootwad nearby.
I told Jerry he was our designated shooter. He would be in the best position to see any turkeys approaching, so I expected him to take care of business if I could call them in.
I got my head net on and looked at my watch, 6:30 a.m. Perfect. A few minutes later, scattered shots rang out from across the river. Aha, I thought, the turkeys were already fleeing to the other farms.
I worked the cedar box call every few minutes, just like I heard them do on the Outdoor Channel. Why don’t they gobble back? I wondered. Maybe these turkeys are mute … maybe they are all hens … but I continued to call anyway.
From where I was sitting, I really couldn’t see much except for the small lane beside me leading into the field. Any turkeys I might see would be within a few yards. I wasn’t expecting to shoot anyway, though. That was Jerry’s job.
By 7:30 a.m., not a thing was happening. No more shots across the river, nothing. Boredom was setting in. I imagined turkeys walking down the lane toward me, but they never materialized.
Turkey Time, Times Two
I glanced at my watch, and it was almost 8 a.m. I stroked the box call a few times and sat waiting for a turkey to appear. That’s when I heard Jerry’s shotgun boom. I spun around to see his turkey on the ground. Then, another popped up and it was my turn. He dropped quickly, too. I couldn’t believe our luck. We had done what I never even thought possible — harvested two gobblers out of one group in a span of a few seconds.
Kathy came out to our house as Jerry and I proudly displayed our gobblers for the cameras. We celebrated with hugs and a lot of congratulations. With Jerry’s help, we cleaned and prepared both birds for the freezer. Soon, we had a wild-turkey dinner planned with Bob and his wife to celebrate.
What started out with not much more than blind faith had turned into an unforgettable morning. As I gazed at Jerry, still sporting his gigantic grin, it dawned on me that perhaps I had the teacher and student thing all backward. It was Jerry who showed me that blind faith can be a powerful thing, indeed, especially on a spring opener.