{"id":17630,"date":"2024-10-27T17:25:44","date_gmt":"2024-10-27T22:25:44","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.mcneese.edu\/thereview\/?p=17630"},"modified":"2024-10-31T08:44:01","modified_gmt":"2024-10-31T13:44:01","slug":"the-hunt","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.mcneese.edu\/thereview\/2024\/10\/27\/the-hunt\/","title":{"rendered":"The Hunt"},"content":{"rendered":"\n<p class=\"has-large-font-size\"><strong>The Hunt<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n<ul class=\"wp-block-social-links is-content-justification-right is-layout-flex wp-container-core-social-links-is-layout-765c4724 wp-block-social-links-is-layout-flex\"><li class=\"wp-social-link wp-social-link-facebook  wp-block-social-link\"><a href=\"https:\/\/www.facebook.com\/profile.php?id=61556140010887\" class=\"wp-block-social-link-anchor\"><svg width=\"24\" height=\"24\" viewBox=\"0 0 24 24\" version=\"1.1\" xmlns=\"http:\/\/www.w3.org\/2000\/svg\" aria-hidden=\"true\" focusable=\"false\"><path d=\"M12 2C6.5 2 2 6.5 2 12c0 5 3.7 9.1 8.4 9.9v-7H7.9V12h2.5V9.8c0-2.5 1.5-3.9 3.8-3.9 1.1 0 2.2.2 2.2.2v2.5h-1.3c-1.2 0-1.6.8-1.6 1.6V12h2.8l-.4 2.9h-2.3v7C18.3 21.1 22 17 22 12c0-5.5-4.5-10-10-10z\"><\/path><\/svg><span class=\"wp-block-social-link-label screen-reader-text\">Facebook<\/span><\/a><\/li>\n\n<li class=\"wp-social-link wp-social-link-instagram  wp-block-social-link\"><a href=\"https:\/\/www.instagram.com\/boudin_mcneese\/\" class=\"wp-block-social-link-anchor\"><svg width=\"24\" height=\"24\" viewBox=\"0 0 24 24\" version=\"1.1\" xmlns=\"http:\/\/www.w3.org\/2000\/svg\" aria-hidden=\"true\" focusable=\"false\"><path d=\"M12,4.622c2.403,0,2.688,0.009,3.637,0.052c0.877,0.04,1.354,0.187,1.671,0.31c0.42,0.163,0.72,0.358,1.035,0.673 c0.315,0.315,0.51,0.615,0.673,1.035c0.123,0.317,0.27,0.794,0.31,1.671c0.043,0.949,0.052,1.234,0.052,3.637 s-0.009,2.688-0.052,3.637c-0.04,0.877-0.187,1.354-0.31,1.671c-0.163,0.42-0.358,0.72-0.673,1.035 c-0.315,0.315-0.615,0.51-1.035,0.673c-0.317,0.123-0.794,0.27-1.671,0.31c-0.949,0.043-1.233,0.052-3.637,0.052 s-2.688-0.009-3.637-0.052c-0.877-0.04-1.354-0.187-1.671-0.31c-0.42-0.163-0.72-0.358-1.035-0.673 c-0.315-0.315-0.51-0.615-0.673-1.035c-0.123-0.317-0.27-0.794-0.31-1.671C4.631,14.688,4.622,14.403,4.622,12 s0.009-2.688,0.052-3.637c0.04-0.877,0.187-1.354,0.31-1.671c0.163-0.42,0.358-0.72,0.673-1.035 c0.315-0.315,0.615-0.51,1.035-0.673c0.317-0.123,0.794-0.27,1.671-0.31C9.312,4.631,9.597,4.622,12,4.622 M12,3 C9.556,3,9.249,3.01,8.289,3.054C7.331,3.098,6.677,3.25,6.105,3.472C5.513,3.702,5.011,4.01,4.511,4.511 c-0.5,0.5-0.808,1.002-1.038,1.594C3.25,6.677,3.098,7.331,3.054,8.289C3.01,9.249,3,9.556,3,12c0,2.444,0.01,2.751,0.054,3.711 c0.044,0.958,0.196,1.612,0.418,2.185c0.23,0.592,0.538,1.094,1.038,1.594c0.5,0.5,1.002,0.808,1.594,1.038 c0.572,0.222,1.227,0.375,2.185,0.418C9.249,20.99,9.556,21,12,21s2.751-0.01,3.711-0.054c0.958-0.044,1.612-0.196,2.185-0.418 c0.592-0.23,1.094-0.538,1.594-1.038c0.5-0.5,0.808-1.002,1.038-1.594c0.222-0.572,0.375-1.227,0.418-2.185 C20.99,14.751,21,14.444,21,12s-0.01-2.751-0.054-3.711c-0.044-0.958-0.196-1.612-0.418-2.185c-0.23-0.592-0.538-1.094-1.038-1.594 c-0.5-0.5-1.002-0.808-1.594-1.038c-0.572-0.222-1.227-0.375-2.185-0.418C14.751,3.01,14.444,3,12,3L12,3z M12,7.378 c-2.552,0-4.622,2.069-4.622,4.622S9.448,16.622,12,16.622s4.622-2.069,4.622-4.622S14.552,7.378,12,7.378z M12,15 c-1.657,0-3-1.343-3-3s1.343-3,3-3s3,1.343,3,3S13.657,15,12,15z M16.804,6.116c-0.596,0-1.08,0.484-1.08,1.08 s0.484,1.08,1.08,1.08c0.596,0,1.08-0.484,1.08-1.08S17.401,6.116,16.804,6.116z\"><\/path><\/svg><span class=\"wp-block-social-link-label screen-reader-text\">Instagram<\/span><\/a><\/li><\/ul>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\"><strong>Chris Bullard<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">__________<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">I don\u2019t know why my cousin, Dalton, hated me so much. I asked my mom and she told me that I was being too sensitive and that Dalton didn\u2019t have anything against me, but I didn\u2019t believe her. \u201cWell, maybe, he\u2019s a bit over-aggressive with you and Brady,\u201d she said, \u201cbut you have to remember that Dalton doesn\u2019t have a dad around, so he\u2019s lacking a strong, male presence in his life.\u201d That\u2019s the way my mom talked. She was a psychologist.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">I thought this statement was a little strange because my own father, who was an actuary with an insurance company, was as a quiet a fellow as you could find and not someone I ever thought of as a \u201cstrong male presence.\u201d Even if Dalton had grown up with an actuary in the house, I bet that he would have turned into a prima donna.&nbsp;&nbsp;<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">I had fun the first couple of times I visited my Aunt Suzy. My grandpop Ferguson still had his farm next door and we got to ride on the tractor and play with the goats. But now my grandpop was in assisted care in Morgantown and Aunt Suzy had sold his farm to pay for his medical expenses.&nbsp;<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">Dalton\u2019s dad had left Aunt Suzy before Dalton was even out of diapers. I\u2019d heard that from my mom. Aunt Suzy never talked about him and I certainly wasn\u2019t going to ask Dalton about his dad. That would have just gotten him upset. Dalton didn\u2019t even like to hear about other people\u2019s dads. Once, when I started talking about things my dad and I had done, Dalton had stormed out of the room.&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">Dalton had always been sort of moody. He\u2019d ask me sports questions that I couldn\u2019t answer and when I said something Dalton thought was stupid, he\u2019d pitch a baseball at my chest. And Dalton could throw pretty hard. He played third base for his junior high, the Bagwell Bobcats.&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">Mean as he was to me, Dalton was even worse to my brother, Brady. Dalton was always trying to scare him with his stories about the animals that lived in the woods next to my aunt\u2019s house. \u201cI saw a copperhead down by the stream last week,\u201d he\u2019d tell Brady, or he\u2019d say, \u201cI heard a bear snuffling around the back of the house last night.\u201d&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">Once he\u2019d figured out that what scared Brady the most were stories about monsters, Dalton began talking about the Mothman, a creature that was supposed to live in the mountains around Bagwell.&nbsp;<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">Dalton would prop his eyelids open with his fingers and whisper to Brady, \u201cHe\u2019s got big glowing red eyes.\u201d He\u2019d flap his arms and say, \u201cAnd he\u2019s got great big wings.\u201d He\u2019d grab Brady around the shoulders and shout, \u201cLook out, Mothman\u2019s gonna eat you up.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">Despite the teasing, Brady was fascinated with Dalton. Whenever Brady and I were together that summer he would go on about Dalton and about all the interesting things that Dalton did and how brave Dalton was to go out in the woods alone.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">It was toward the end of our stay at my aunt\u2019s that Brady told me how Dalton had promised to take him on a snipe hunt, \u201cHe said that I could hold the bag and that he would chase them right up to me.\u201d&nbsp;<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">The prospect of filling a bag with snipe excited Brady even though he couldn\u2019t tell me what one was. He seemed to think that they were some sort of cuddly forest creature.&nbsp;<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">I didn\u2019t know then that a snipe hunt is a trick that campers have been playing on innocent friends since the glaciers receded. You give someone a sack and take him out into the woods. You tell him that he\u2019s supposed to stay in one place while you drive the snipe toward him. Then you go back to the campfire and wait to see how long it takes for him to figure out that he\u2019s an idiot.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">I can\u2019t say that I saw what was coming, but I did have my suspicions about Dalton. I couldn\u2019t see him wanting to do us anything but nastiness. But when I tried to talk Brady out of going, he just kept saying that Dalton would think he was a coward if he backed out.&nbsp;&nbsp;<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">Since Brady wouldn\u2019t listen to me about Dalton, I decided that I had to go with him. I wanted to keep him safe. When I told Dalton to count me in, he got a big grin on his face, which made me even more way about the hunt. \u201cDon\u2019t worry,\u201d he said. \u201cI\u2019ll have bags for both of you gentlemen.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">After dinner the next night, Dalton told my aunt and my mom that he wanted to take Brady and me over to see one of his friends who had collected some neat rocks and minerals. I was sort of surprised that my mom would let us go, but Aunt Suzy had assured her that Dalton knew his way around the hills and I guess that the idea of having a few hours alone to talk over adult things with Aunty Suzy seemed like a good idea.&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">We started walking. After a few minutes, we veered off from the paved road and started on the inclined trail that ran into the trees. I didn\u2019t go there up very often. I preferred playing around the farm. To me, the forest was just a place where the fields stopped.&nbsp;<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">As we picked our way along the trail, trying not to trip over the big roots that ran across the path, I started to think of the woods a little differently. For one thing, they seemed endless. And they were dark. Just a few steps in, I started worrying that we wouldn\u2019t be able to find our way back to the road.&nbsp;&nbsp;<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">It was a good thing that we had brought the flashlight. We wouldn\u2019t have been able to see our way through the trees without it. Dalton shined it ahead of us and directed us onto a path that turned off from the one we were using. We hiked for another few minutes before we came to a clearing. I was huffing from the climb.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">Dalton handed Brady and me two pillowcases. \u201cI\u2019m going to scare the snipe into this clearing. When they come toward you, just catch them in the bag. Don\u2019t worry. They\u2019re harmless.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">Dalton snickered, then vanished. I\u2019m sure that he didn\u2019t want to give us any time to change our minds. A few moments later, we heard his voice calling out \u201csnipe, snipe.\u201d&nbsp;<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">As we waited, the moon rose over the crest of the mountains. It was gigantic. I had never realized how bright the moon could be. The center of the clearing seemed to light up like a spotlight was shining on it.&nbsp;<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cDo you think mom will let me keep the snipe I catch?\u201d Brady asked me.&nbsp;<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cDon\u2019t bank on it,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">We could still hear Dalton calling \u201csnipe, snipe\u201d out in the woods beyond the clearing, but his voice was further away than before. Brady turned toward me, \u201cHow long do you think it\u2019ll take for the snipe to come?\u201d&nbsp;<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cI don\u2019t know about you,\u201d I said, \u201cbut I\u2019m not waiting long.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">The moonlight was bright enough that I could easily see the hands of my wristwatch. It was 9:30 and mom had told us to be back before 11:00.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">A few moments later, Dalton decided to raise the ante. Instead of \u201csnipe, snipe\u201d he started to howl like a wolf. It seemed like he was moving around us in the darkness as his calls got louder and fiercer. We could hear snarls and growls everywhere. At last, he finished off with a set of horrible screams like he was an animal caught in the jaws of a murderous beast.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">I could hear Brady take a big swallow. \u201cWhat\u2019s that?\u201d he said.&nbsp;<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">I dropped my pillow case and put my hands on his shoulders. \u201cDon\u2019t worry,\u201d I told him. \u201cIt\u2019s just Dalton.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cWhy does he want to scare us?\u201d Brady was almost crying.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cHe just wants to scare the snipe,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">I could feel Brady\u2019s body trembling.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">I didn\u2019t want to leave him, but I wanted to tell Dalton to stop scaring Brady.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cDon\u2019t move from the moonlight,\u201d I said. \u201cAnimals don\u2019t like the light. They won\u2019t touch you if you\u2019re standing where it\u2019s bright.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cDon\u2019t go,\u201d Brady whimpered.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">I patted his head. \u201cDon\u2019t worry. I\u2019ll be back in a second. I promise. Just stay where you are. I\u2019m going to get Dalton and then we\u2019ll all go home.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">I moved to the edge of the clearing and shouted, \u201cDalton, you come back here now. Brady and I want to go.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">Nobody responded, so I started to work my way around the perimeter while shouting, \u201cDalton, we want to go home, right now.\u201d&nbsp;<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">I figured that Dalton was still out there playing a game with us. I was sure that he knew how much trouble he would get into if he went home without us. After he\u2019d had enough fun, he\u2019d come back and get us. I wasn\u2019t looking forward to how he\u2019d mock of us for being scared and for being stupid enough to believe in something as crazy as snipe, but I would gladly put up with his jokes if it meant that Brady and I were going home.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">When I looked back to see how Brady was making out, I froze. Brady wasn\u2019t standing there alone. I could make out the figure of a man standing behind him.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">I could feel my muscles knot up and I had to steady myself to keep from falling over. I wanted to run to Brady, but my fear wouldn\u2019t let me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">It was only when I saw the man disappear into the darkness that I got up enough nerve to hustle over to my brother.&nbsp;<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cAre you all right? What was that man doing to you? Did he touch you?\u201d That was the question they always asked kids on TV.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cJust on the shoulder,\u201d he quivered. \u201cHe was really strong.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">After a moment, Brady straightened up. \u201cI\u2019m alright,\u201d he said quietly. \u201cI thought you had come back, but I knew it wasn\u2019t you when I heard his voice.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cWhat did the man say?\u201d I don\u2019t know why I asked this. I should have just snatched Brady up and started running for home, but I was in shock. I wasn\u2019t thinking right.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cHe told me to open up my bag. Then he dropped in a snipe. He said that it was a good hunt.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">Brady offered me the bag. At the bottom of the pillow case I could see a baseball cap printed with the words, \u201cBagwell Bobcats.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">I can\u2019t really remember dragging Brady down the trail, or getting us inside my aunt\u2019s house. But it\u2019s not hard to summon up the memory of my aunt\u2019s wail when we told her that something had \u201cgotten\u201d Dalton.&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">Everybody wanted to ask us questions. Brady and I had to speak with what seemed like every policeman in West Virginia. Luckily, my mom was able to keep us out the clutches of the reporters who shouted questions at us whenever we were out in public.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">Dalton was just gone. Once in while some true crime TV show presents the story of the missing West Virginia boy as an \u201cunsolved mystery.\u201d I change the channels when that happens.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">My mom lost regular contact with my aunt. Suzy left Bagwell and let the bank take her house. She never visited my grandpop again at his nursing home. Some Christmases we\u2019d get a card from her. Each of them had a postmark from a different town.&nbsp;<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">I still regret that I was gullible enough to fall for Dalton\u2019s snipe hunt. I should never have let him take Brady out there. I still feel that I\u2019m the one responsible for everything that happened.&nbsp;&nbsp;<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">But even though I couldn\u2019t protect my brother that night, I like to think that I\u2019ve been able to shield him in one way since then. I\u2019ve never told him or anyone else what else I saw out there in the moonlight. I don\u2019t want Brady to have the sort of nightmares that wake me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">I don\u2019t want Brady to know that the man in the clearing had eyes that shined like torches. I don\u2019t want him to know that the man who stood behind him didn\u2019t walk away but leapt into the sky.&nbsp;<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">I am a city dweller and an office-worker, an actuary like my dad. I live on the twentieth floor of a midtown condo. I live by myself, perhaps because I don\u2019t want to try to explain to anyone about those things that make me shout in my sleep.&nbsp;<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">Brady lives in the suburbs with his wife and two kids. His house backs up on state game lands and he sometimes makes jokes about how uncomfortable I seem when I sit with him on the patio while his kids run around on the lawn. \u201cWe don\u2019t have any bear around here, you know,\u201d he tells me. \u201cNothing\u2019s gonna come out of the woods and get us all.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">I try to smile. \u201cI guess I just feel like the city mouse out here in the country.\u201d I say. We have a good relationship and I think that he takes no offense from the fact that I won\u2019t ever stay overnight at his house, but always insist on driving back to town.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">I think that he has forgotten what happened that night, or most of it.&nbsp;<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">I haven\u2019t. Tonight, when a glorious orange moon rises above the apartment houses lining the river, I cannot look long before my mind summons up the silhouette of a man hovering on bat wings, staring down at me, looking directly at me with those crimson glowing eyes.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">I shake my head and the image clears. I see only the moon again. I am living in a great city, I say to myself. I am out of those dark endless woods. I am safe now. The figure that I so often see is something I imagine and not something real. But screams still play inside my head.&nbsp;<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">Where I live there\u2019s a Starbucks on every corner and the city lights stay on all night. What would he be doing here and how could he still recognize me with my grey hair and white beard? And even if he has found me, what could he want with me?<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">What scares me is the possibility that the hunt is not over yet and that one night I will hear the rustle of wings overhead and feel strong hands take me by the shoulders and lift me from the city streets and fly me off to wherever Dalton was taken, some place where the deep forest gives way to the brightest moonlight.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>__________<\/p>\n\n\n\n<figure class=\"wp-block-image size-large\"><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" width=\"820\" height=\"1024\" src=\"https:\/\/www.mcneese.edu\/thereview\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/37\/2024\/10\/image0-820x1024.jpeg\" alt=\"\" class=\"wp-image-17632\" srcset=\"https:\/\/www.mcneese.edu\/thereview\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/37\/2024\/10\/image0-820x1024.jpeg 820w, https:\/\/www.mcneese.edu\/thereview\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/37\/2024\/10\/image0-240x300.jpeg 240w, https:\/\/www.mcneese.edu\/thereview\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/37\/2024\/10\/image0-768x959.jpeg 768w, https:\/\/www.mcneese.edu\/thereview\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/37\/2024\/10\/image0-1231x1536.jpeg 1231w, https:\/\/www.mcneese.edu\/thereview\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/37\/2024\/10\/image0-1641x2048.jpeg 1641w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 820px) 100vw, 820px\" \/><\/figure>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\"><strong>Chris Bullard<\/strong> dressed as a pirate alongside his sister.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">__________<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">A native of Jacksonville, Florida, <strong>Chris Bullard<\/strong> is a retired judge who lives in Philadelphia. In 2022, Main Street Rag published his chapbook, <em>Florida Man<\/em>, and Moonstone Press published his chapbook, <em>The Rainclouds of y<\/em>. Finishing Line Press has accepted his chapbook, <em>Lungs<\/em>, for publication in 2024. He was nominated this year for the Pushcart Prize.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">__________<\/p>\n\n\n<div class=\"wp-block-image\">\n<figure class=\"alignleft size-full\"><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" width=\"438\" height=\"211\" src=\"https:\/\/www.mcneese.edu\/thereview\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/37\/2024\/01\/boudin-logo-1.jpg\" alt=\"\" class=\"wp-image-15484\" srcset=\"https:\/\/www.mcneese.edu\/thereview\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/37\/2024\/01\/boudin-logo-1.jpg 438w, https:\/\/www.mcneese.edu\/thereview\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/37\/2024\/01\/boudin-logo-1-300x145.jpg 300w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 438px) 100vw, 438px\" \/><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n<p class=\"has-text-align-center has-large-font-size\">\ud83e\udca0 <a href=\"https:\/\/www.mcneese.edu\/thereview\/2024\/10\/27\/monsters-childs-play-bring-the-nightmare-to-bed\/\">Back<\/a> <a href=\"https:\/\/www.mcneese.edu\/thereview\/2024\/10\/27\/the-cherry-pit\/\">Next<\/a> \ud83e\udca1<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">To learn more about submitting your work to <em><a href=\"https:\/\/www.mcneese.edu\/thereview\/boudin-submissions\/\">Boudin<\/a><\/em> or applying to McNeese State University&#8217;s Creative Writing <a href=\"https:\/\/www.mcneese.edu\/thereview\/mfa-application-submissions\/\">MFA program<\/a>, please visit Submissions for details.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>The Hunt Chris Bullard __________ I don\u2019t know why my cousin, Dalton, hated me so much. I asked my mom and she told me that I was being too sensitive and that Dalton didn\u2019t have anything against me, but I didn\u2019t believe her. \u201cWell, maybe, he\u2019s a bit over-aggressive with you and Brady,\u201d she said,&hellip;<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":42,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[220],"tags":[75],"class_list":["post-17630","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-boodin-creature-feature-oct-24","tag-boudin"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.mcneese.edu\/thereview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/17630","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.mcneese.edu\/thereview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.mcneese.edu\/thereview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.mcneese.edu\/thereview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/42"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.mcneese.edu\/thereview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=17630"}],"version-history":[{"count":5,"href":"https:\/\/www.mcneese.edu\/thereview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/17630\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":17766,"href":"https:\/\/www.mcneese.edu\/thereview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/17630\/revisions\/17766"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.mcneese.edu\/thereview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=17630"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.mcneese.edu\/thereview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=17630"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.mcneese.edu\/thereview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=17630"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}