Deer Turkeys
Red Fez
No sense or nonsense?
“Deer Turkeys” explores the pair with a heavy lean on the obvious.
The short was published by Red Fez, Issue 152, 12/13/2021.
“Red Fez began publication in 2003 as one of the world’s first online literary magazines.
Over its 20 year history Red Fez published 4000+ works of poetry, fiction, nonfiction and graphic, video and author works from 1500+ authors and creators across 157 issues.
Find more information about our editors and full publication history … [here].”
I am thankful to the editors for including “Deer Turkeys” alongside the work of so many fine writers. As always, thank you so much for reading.
*Trigger warning for what is an unfortunate bit of truth weaved within this body of work.
Deer Turkeys
Three wild turkeys scratch near my table. Eight strutted their way in and around camp yesterday, oblivious to the soup pot boiling on the Coleman stove. I wonder what the gobblers are thinking, being Thanksgiving was a couple days ago and still officially in swing. Turkey is literally on the table. Wild turkeys get a free pass calling a state park home, where no one will hurt or hunt them. These turkeys are smart, maybe safety is what they think in their peanut brain.
Deer walk through my site most of the afternoon in twos and threes, but one white tail tags along behind a couple of turkeys. He’s wary, yet close, within six feet of me. His nose trembles the scent of my peanuts, the official snack of camping. I think how tame these animals have become, how easy a hunter could lure them in with an open can of cheap knock off store brand peanuts. Go home, I say to the deer. He looks at me nonplussed. I stand and take a step. The turkeys scatter around me. The deer flicks its gorgeous ears. I repeat myself. Go. Home.
He doesn’t move.
Back in Ocala, I had a friend with vets for parents. I could never wrap my head around the fact both were hunters, not rabid hunters, but still, it’s weird, saving lives, yet taking lives on a whim. A deer walked from the thick acreage into the back yard while both pet vets sat on the porch. It stood there, looking at them. The dad shot it clean. The deer stood. Not a waiver, not a blink. The mom took a second shot. Nothing. The deer stood and stared. Both being vets, at the very least, they knew how to kill with mercy, so the clinical side took over as they observed the deer stand a good five, ten minutes before slowly crumpling to the ground. They biopsied the deer and found a healed skull fracture, likely resulting in brain damage, probably from butting heads with young bucks. The deer simply didn’t have sense enough to fall down dead.
I rattle the lid of the soup pot. The turkeys scurry off into the scrub and the deer takes its own sweet time prancing off site, looking back at me over its lovely shoulder, maybe thinking about peanuts. No sense, no sense at all.
***
For those interested in “free-to-use picture resources”, Jordan Acosta/ The Dispatch has done the work so all we have to do is bookmark and say thank you, Jordan.
-Free-to-use Picture Resources for Writers (April 28, 2025)
-More Free-to-use Picture Resources for Writers (May 13, 2025)
Oh, my—poor deer! And an excellent story, Sheree. 👍 I like how you’ve included info re: the online journal (I’m familiar with that one too, but didn’t know it’s been around so long — so glad to learn of that!).