RJ Hooker

After their father died, the brothers had to go through the belongings. They found boxes of .22 bullets, an old Shakespeare fishing reel, and the remains of a Costa Rican t-shirt. A record player full of lady bug shells. Photos of their dad holding pull-tab beer cans in Vietnam. In another box, a Polaroid of their dad's ex wife: the older brother's mom. The picture had white veins running across it from being handled so many times. In a rifle bag there was a dead bird wrapped in an oil cloth, its feathers slick and shining. They took what they wanted, dumped the rest. One brother took a mounted buck with a shattered glass eye. The other brother kept a canteen filled with sand.