To Probe A Beating Heart by John B Wren Page B

in baseball and Averell was looking for a distraction. He was now nine years old and thought of himself as much older, more mature. When he noticed a group of older boys going into the woods, he decided he would see what was going on. He was quite adept at hiding and moving through the brush quietly. He followed them at a safe distance and watched as they set up a circle of logs to sit on and a smaller circle of stones in the middle, which they piled with small twigs and the larger sticks. Each of the four found a larger log and set them nearby, ready when needed. Then they sat around and started to talk. Averell crept closer and when he achieved a good vantage point, he listened to the conversation.
                  “I got it, we just have to set it up and stay clear, when it trips, we will hear the rattling around and we can check it out,” said George, the tall one. “It has a thing like a wall that moves with a lever and it lets you squeeze the critter and hold him still and you can do things to him.”
                  “That sounds fancy, but, okay, let’s set it up then” replied Tom, the heavy one.
                  “Where should we do it?” asked the tall one.
                  “How ‘bout over in that open area, there.” said Frank, as he pointed. He was the smart one, thought Averell.
                  “Yeah, that looks good.” said the heavy one.
                  Don didn’t say anything. Averell thought of him as the quiet one. The boys went into the clearing and set their trap.
                  “Now we wait,” said the tall one, and they all went back to their seats around the unlit campfire. It didn’t take long and the trap was sprung. Tall and Heavy ran over to the trap and came back with a rabbit in the small cage.
                  “Hey guys, dinner,” said Frank. “Somebody start the fire. Then we kill it, skin it, put it on the spit and cook it, then eat it.” The rabbit was not about to go peacefully, and when the tall one reached inside the cage to grab it, the rabbit bit his hand. A little blood flowed from the cut and Tall then angrily grabbed the rabbit and broke its neck.
                  “Yeah, I’ll start the flames, you skin the little bastard,” said Frank.
                  There was that word, bastard. Now he didn’t like these boys. And they didn’t know how to kill the rabbit. Tall one had to use his hands to twist it’s head around. These guys are stupid, except for Frank. He started the fire and Averell watched as he re-arranged the small twigs and progressively larger sticks, then he lit a small wad of dried grass and pushed it under the small twigs. As the fire grew bigger, he added more and bigger sticks until he could add a small log, then a second log and a few more smaller sticks. The fire gave off very little smoke and probably was not visible from outside the woods.
                  The other three boys were skinning the rabbit and making a mess of it. There was blood everywhere and it was difficult to see any variation in the body parts. Frank took a green stick and sharpened one end on a rock and pierced a small piece of the rabbit, placed it over the fire and laughed at the other boys.
                  “You monkeys couldn’t cook a hot dog without screwing it up.”
                  “Yeah, well if you’re all that smart, “ said the tall one.
                  “George, I am that smart, and you’re dumber than a bag of rocks.
    Here let me help you.”
                  With that Frank showed the rest how to select a green stick, sharpen it and skewer a piece of meat, and cook it. The boys cooked and ate as much of the rabbit as Frank said they could.
                  “The rest is not good for eating. And if you had been more careful
    skinning it, we would have a rabbit