In the main house's living room, John was engrossed in reading the newspaper while Dante sat on a long couch, fiddling with his phone, producing strange sound effects.
John tolerated it for a while before snapping, "Alright, enough with the noises!"
"This is my new app. It's incredibly useful," Dante replied, holding his coffee cup. "It forecasts the weather, tracks the migration of wild ducks, and can even photograph the ones we've hunted."
Jaime, aware of Dante's various money-making schemes, had introduced him to the app, knowing how much he appreciated technology. Now Dante was proudly showcasing it to his father.
"Look, it even has recipes for the things you've hunted."
John raised the newspaper with one hand as a signal and thumped the table with the other. "The newspaper gives me all the information I need. Hunting season starts tomorrow. Sunrise, 5:41 AM. Bring your shotgun. We're all going hunting."
"We should invite the family's black sheep," Dante quipped.
"What are you talking about?" John asked, confused.
"Forget it. Look at this instead. Can a newspaper do this?" Dante pressed the screen, and the raspy quack of a mallard duck echoed from the phone: Quack, quack!
"That's impressive. Let me see it." John set down the newspaper and pointed at the phone.
"Just tap the red button."
John's face darkened, and he gritted his teeth. "I know how to use a phone, Dante."
Quack, quack!
Quack, quack!
At that moment, a pecking sound came from the window. John glanced up, startled to see a crow tapping on the glass.
"Good Lord, is that one of Steve's crows?" John asked, looking out the window uneasily.
Steve, a cowboy with a knack for training birds—or so he claimed—had collected many crows, only to have them escape. He eventually gave up on the endeavor.
"No idea," Dante replied, moving closer to the window. The crow stared back curiously, then pecked a few more times. "First a dog, now a crow. Maybe I'm an animal whisperer."
"Don't touch it," John warned, trying to stop his son. But Dante ignored him and stepped outside to see if the black-feathered visitor would let him approach.
"Well, Dad, we've got a crow now," Dante announced, returning with the bird in his hands.
John set his coffee aside and coughed. "Damn it. Now that I think about it, a crow stole Lee's food a few weeks ago. I thought she shot it, but here it is, sitting in our living room."
"If it survived Lee, it's a worthy addition to the family." Dante sat down again, gently stroking the crow. "By the way, did you invite Kayce to the hunt?"
"It's a great idea, but your brother wants nothing to do with us—and he doesn't want his son involved either," John replied, sipping his coffee to avoid continuing the topic.
"Maybe he feels you haven't made an effort to see him. Life's shorter than it seems, Dad. We won't always be here on this land. We should make the most of every moment life gives us." Dante spoke with the wisdom of someone who had looked death in the eye and come to respect it deeply.
"You're more mature than Kayce—surprising, if you ask me."
Of course, Dante's main motivation for reuniting the family was to create a stronger protective network for everyone.
Navigating the Indian reservation had always been a challenge, one he had faced countless times.
"I'm the best of my brothers, and good times are ahead. Late spring really is the best time of year," Dante said, his tone measured but optimistic.
"Let's go eat," John suggested.
Dante glanced at his father and smiled faintly. John seemed to be holding back a question, hesitating every time the opportunity arose. One day, Dante would uncover what was weighing on his father's mind.