Chapter Eighteen
“So you’re sure the boyfriend’s okay with this?” Jesse said with a sarcastic laugh as I hopped into the passenger seat of his old Wagoneer on Friday.
“Yes, the boyfriend’s fine with
it,” I said, slugging him gently as we drove to the shooting range.
“You sure?
I thought I saw him giving me the stink eye in English today.”
“The stink eye?
Are you serious, Jesse? The stink eye?”
“Yes, the stink eye,” he said
, looking over at me and giving me his best impression of the supposed look Alex had given him, with squinty eyes and pursed lips. “In fact, I think he’s been giving it to me all week.”
“Oh
my gosh. You’re like the biggest dork ever, Jesse.”
We started laugh
ing and he continued driving.
Soon we were pulling into the parking lot of the Sumner County Shooting Range. I couldn’t help but notice there was an abundance of trucks with gun racks and I instantly felt like a hillbilly. I almost said something, but stopped myself knowing Jesse wouldn’t appreciate yet another
Carver crack.
He pulled the car into an empty space near the front. When we walked inside, it wasn’t exactly what I’d expected. I had imagined stuffed animal heads lining the walls and men running around flailing their guns around like Yosemite Sam. It was the complete opposite. The place looked clean and modern with gray walls and a white tile floor.
Jesse and I walked up to the counter and I continued to look around. My eyes stopped on a sign that read
Must be 18 or older unless accompanied by an adult.
“What are we gonna do about that?” I asked
, pointing to the sign.
“Don’t worry about it,” he answered
, not looking the least bit concerned.
“What do you mean don’t
worry about it? I’m only 17.”
“Yes, but you forget that I’m 18, so I’m technically an adult
, so there’s no need to worry, plus my uncle runs the place. Speaking of…” he said as his eyes faced forward and focused on a man walking towards the counter.
“Hey
, Jesse,” the tall man with dark thinning hair said in the all too familiar slow accent I’d gotten used to since moving to Carver. He was wearing a plaid shirt, which was tucked tightly into his old jeans and he wore a large silver buckle on his leather belt. I could tell he had on boots by the way they clanked loudly on the tile floor.
“Hey
, Uncle Glenn.”
“What’s
goin’ on?” he said and then looked over to me.
“This is my friend
, Riley. She’s from Boston and has never shot a gun,” Jesse told his uncle and I couldn’t help but think they were going to have a good laugh on my behalf. I waited for the laughter or at least a superior smile, but much to my surprise, neither ever came.
“So you
wanna teach her how to shoot?” Glenn asked.
“That’s the plan.”
“I’d start her with a .22 then.”
“That’s what I was thi
nking,” Jesse agreed.
“How many rounds you want?”
“Gimme 50.”
“Alright.
Be right back,” Glenn said and turned to go to the back.
“I’m not trying to sound any dumber than I already
do, but what’s a .22?” I asked.
“It’s a small pistol. It’s not that powerfu
l, so it’s good to start with.”
I nodded and a couple of minutes late
r, Glenn returned and placed a black pistol, an empty magazine and the bullets on the counter. I stared down at the gun and I felt uneasy. It looked so innocent, but I knew what it was capable of. Jesse picked it up and I involuntarily jumped.
“Hey, don’t be scared,” Jesse said
, setting the pistol back down.
“I
t just startled me. I’m okay.”
“I promise you, there is no way this gun can hurt anyone right now. First of all, it’s not loaded and the
safety’s on. So no worries, okay?”
He was talking calmly to me and he wasn’t being
condescending like I expected.
“I just…I don’t know…it just
kinda freaked me out seeing it,” I said, trying to rationalize my reaction.
“I can understand t
hat, but I promise, it’s safe.”
He handed me the
box of bullets and then he carefully picked up the gun, making sure it was empty before grabbing the magazine.
“You guys can
use lane four,” Glenn told us.
“Okay. Thanks,” Jesse said and I smiled nervously at his uncle.
“You’re in good hands,” Glenn reassured me. “Jess’s been shooting since before he could walk.”
I j
ust nodded and followed Jesse.
Ther
e were a few other people practicing shooting and they didn’t look nearly as frightening or ignorant as I’d expected, and they appeared to have most of their teeth, which was comforting. Jesse reached into a box and handed me a pair of small, foam ear plugs.
“Here, you’re gonna need
to put these in.”
I did as he said and then w
e walked to the fourth lane. I was glad there was no one next to us to see me fail at my first shooting attempt. Jesse placed the pistol and magazine on the counter and I set the bullets beside them.
“Alright,” he began. “Because I don’t want to frighten you, I’m going to explain everything I’m doing step by step. Okay?”
“Okay,” I agreed.
“
First, we’re going to load the magazine and then I’m going to show you how the gun works,” he said as he loaded the bullets one by one into the magazine. “Now that that’s done, I’m gonna show you how the gun works.” Without picking it up, he began telling me about the different parts of the gun, how they worked, and how I should stand and aim. He finished explaining everything to me and then turned and said, “Okay, now let’s load the gun.” He picked it up and inserted the magazine into the bottom of the grip and racked the slide. “The gun’s loaded now, but the safety’s still on. Now I’m going to shoot at that target, but before I do that, we need to put on the rest of our hearing protection.”
Jesse
set the pistol on the counter with the barrel pointed downrange before reaching over to a pair of obnoxiously large ear phones that looked more like two red balloons. He placed them on my ears and everything became a muffle to me. He put some on too and I started laughing at how ridiculous he looked. He looked at me and his mouth moved, but I couldn’t hear what he said. I lifted up one of the ear phones so I could hear him.
“What’s so funny?” he asked
, lifting an earphone as well.
“Those look
totally hot on you,” I laughed.
“Yeah, I know. That’s why I brought you here. I knew this would turn you o
n.”
I just rolled my eyes and put the earphones back on. He smiled and did the same.
He pulled me gently next to his left side so I could see what he was doing. He picked up the gun and aimed it at the target in front of him, released the safety and then I heard a loud pop, which caused me to jump. He kept shooting and I thought I heard the gun go off at least fifteen times. Each time I winced, even though I knew what to expect now. He finally stopped and reset the safety and then put the gun on the counter. He pulled off the earphones, which he let hang around his neck. I pulled mine off too and I felt my nose curl slightly at the smell.
“That’s just the gunpowder,” he said
, obviously aware of the reason for my expression. “So…not so bad, right?”
“No. I was a little nervous, bu
t honestly, it wasn’t too bad.”
“I did pretty
good too,” he said with a smile as he turned to look at the target. The bullet holes were all clustered around the center of the silhouette.
“Don’t you find it
kinda creepy that you’re aiming at person?” I asked in all seriousness.
“Not really.
It’s just an outline anyway.”
“Couldn’t it just be a circle
, like a dartboard?” I suggested.
“T
ry not to read too much into it, Riley,” he said and I thought I detected annoyance in his voice as he released the magazine and reloaded it for me. “You ready to try?”
“Sure,” I said
, trying to sound relaxed.
He picked up the pistol and handed it to me. I took it nervously and held it in with both hands. I moved so I was standing ready to fire. I felt Jesse move in behind me.
“Do what I told you about earlier. Remember what I told you about sight picture?” he asked and I nodded. “Remember to squeeze the trigger and not pull it, but hold on tight. You might get startled when you hear the gun go off, but just try and relax.”
“Okay,” I said as I continued to hol
d the gun out in front of me.
Jesse reached over and put my earphones back on for me and then I took a deep breath, trying to prepare myself to fire. I was scared to pull the trigger. What would it feel like? Would I lose control of the gun and end up killing myself or Jesse? I knew the notion was ridiculous, but then again, the idea of me standing here shooting a gun was a ridiculous notion in itself. I took another
deep breath and closed my left eye while I squinted at the target with my right. I counted to three and then before I could think about it, I felt my finger press down on the trigger. I closed my eyes as I pulled and I jerked back slightly as the bullet flew from the barrel. The force of the shot scared me, but I remained standing and then quickly opened my eyes. I looked ahead to the target and saw a bullet hole in the upper left corner.
I pointed the gun down and nervously turned to face Jesse. He was smiling at me and then he carefully took the gun from me and set the safety before we both pulled off our ear phones.
“Well?” I asked him.
“Not bad, Boston.
Not bad at all. You managed to stay on the paper, which is excellent. What’d you think?”
I thought about it for a second. I had been scared, but it
wasn’t as bad as I’d expected.
“It w
as a little scary,” I admitted.
“What s
cared you?” he asked seriously.
“I didn’t exactly feel like I was in co
ntrol.”
“You have to have confidence and realize you control the gun. It does not control you,” he said and then looked down at the pistol, which lay innocently on the counter. “Pick it up.” I reached down and picked it up. “Now stand like you’re gonna shoot. The safety’s still on, so you can’t really shoot, so just relax.” I held it in my hand and stood and aimed for the target. I could feel Jesse behind me again and then I felt his arms reach around me until we were gripping the gun together. “You need to keep your arms strong like thi
s and plant your feet,” he said, nudging my feet with his. “Okay?”
“Okay,” I said and then he undid the safety and let go of the gun, leaving me to control it alone.
“Try again. You can keep shooting if you want. You don’t have to stop,” he said before putting our earphones back on.
“Alright,” I said through the muffled earphones and once again I concentrated on the silhouette in front of me. I took a deep breath and fired. This time I hit right above the left ear. I fired again a moment later hitting the right shoulder. I felt more confident with each shot as they got more accurate and I felt I had a better handle on the gun. I continued to fire, stopping a few
moments later after I’d shot about ten rounds.
I turned and looked at Jesse who was grinning like a proud father. I felt myself blush and handed him the gun to set the safety.
“You’re a natural,” he said after we’d removed our ear protection. “It’s those Kansas roots in your blood.”
“I doubt that.”
“You really did a pretty good job for your first time. I’m not pullin’ your leg.”
“
I was pretending it was Adrienne.”
“You’re awful,” he said, but I coul
d tell he thought it was funny.
“You’re probably right. Now, let me try again,” I said eagerly.
Jesse just grinned and handed the pistol back to me.
Chapter Nineteen
“So did I change your mind at all?” Jesse asked as he held the front door open for me.
The sun was starting to set, but it was still light out. We’d finished up at the shooting range and since we were already on the outskirts of town, we decided to head back to Jesse’s house to do some work on our project.
“You’ve enlightened me a little,” I said, not admitting to anything as I stepped into the kitchen.
“I guess I can’t ask for
anything more,” Jesse answered.
I looked around and could see a pan on the stove. It smelled like onions and grease and I thought I caught a hint of cigarette smoke.
“Jesse? That you?” a gravelly voice called from the living room.
“Yeah, Dad,” he ca
lled back.
A moment later, a man who resembled Glenn from the shooting range walked into the kitchen. Jesse’s dad was tall and he had shaggy brown hair the same color as Jesse’s, only his had some sprinkles of gray in it. He also wore a short beard on his face, which was very tan. He had the type of skin that looked almost leathery, like he spent a lot of time outside.
“Who’s this?” his dad asked in his deep voice, looking over at me.
“This is my friend
, Riley.”
“Riley?” he asked, his voice crawlin
g out of his mouth slowly.
“Yeah, she moved here f
rom Boston a little while ago.”
“Boston?” he
asked, the surprise obvious in his voice. I’d almost gotten over the reactions people gave when finding out where I was from.
“Yeah.
I just took her to the range. We came back to work on our project for school,” Jesse told his dad.
“Alright,” he said. “I made some Hambur
ger Helper if y’all want some.”
“Thanks
, Dad.”
“Thanks,
Mr. Baylor,” I said. He nodded and then turned and walked out of the kitchen. I saw him disappear into a room off of the living room.
“So…that’s my dad,” Jesse said.
“He seemed nice,” I replied, unable to think of a different word. While Jesse’s dad did seem nice, he also seemed distant. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it, but he seemed a little sad.
“You want something to eat?” he ask
ed gesturing towards the stove.
I was a little
hungry and I didn’t want to insult Mr. Baylor, so I agreed. Jesse pulled out two plates and dished us each up some of the concoction on the stove. I’d never had Hamburger Helper, but it smelled good, so it couldn’t be that bad.
“Let’s go eat in my room,” he said as we picked up our plates and walked through the living room and into Jesse’s bedroom.
It was a small room with wood paneled walls. He had a twin bed and I was surprised it was neatly made, which was more than I could say for my bed at the moment. There was a small computer desk opposite the bed. The walls were bare except for a Kansas City Royals pendant.
“Why don’t you sit at my desk?” he said as he sat on the bed. I pulled the chair out and sat down.
The Hamburger Helper was actually pretty good and soon we were both finished. Jesse got his laptop and opened up Power Point. We downloaded facts and pictures to the document and we made some headway on the project, but soon we were facing a block and neither of us could figure out where else to go with it.
“I can’t think anymore!
” Jesse exclaimed finally, shutting his lap top an hour later.
“Yeah.
My brain’s pretty fried too,” I agreed.
“We
gotta get this done though. We just need a break. Let’s go for a ride on the mule…we need some fresh air,” he said, standing up.
“Good idea,” I agreed.
We picked up our dishes and dropped them off in the sink before heading outside. It was dark now and
Jesse walked back inside, returning a second later with a flashlight. The air was cool, but not cold. It actually felt nice and I couldn’t help but compare it to Boston. Back home, the air would’ve been crisp and almost too cold to be outside without a jacket this time of year. It would’ve had that freshness to it that only happened during the fall. Here though, it still almost felt like summer, only slightly cooler.
I walked ove
r to the mule and climbed in. Jesse was beside me a moment later. He turned the key and it roared to life. He shifted and soon we were tearing down the road just as we had that first night we’d hung out. And just like then, I was amazed at how effortlessly he guided us around the property with just the dull headlights to lead the way. He tore around the corners, causing my stomach to flip-flop a few times, but I wasn’t scared this time. I just held on tight and tried to enjoy myself and the freedom I felt riding around with the wind whipping through my hair.
As we drove, I looked up and saw Jesse’s hunting platform coming into view. I reached over and touched his arm. He slowed down and looked at me.
“Stop up there!” I shouted over the roar of the engine and the wind.
W
e eased to a stop and I jumped out and began walking towards the platform.
“What are you doing
?” Jessed asked from behind me.
“You told
me you come out here to think sometimes. I figured it might clear our minds and help us get this stupid project done.”
I was at the base of the rickety ladder now and started climbing up. I’d been nervous my first time, but I figured I hadn’t died then, so I was probably safe now.
“Wait. Let me hold the ladder for you,” Jesse said and I felt the ladder steady as I climbed. Once at the top, I turned around and held the ladder for him as he climbed up and joined me.
“It’s so dark out here tonig
ht,” I noticed as we stood on the platform, looking out onto the black horizon. There was a sliver of moon overhead, but it didn’t provide much light. There were a few stars overhead as well, but most of them were covered by clouds.
“That’s why I brought this,” Jesse said
, reaching into his back pocket and pulling out the flashlight he’d grabbed before we left the house. He flicked it on and it lit his face up with an ethereal glow.
“Good thing,” I said
, sitting down Indian style. Jesse sat down next to me and put the flashlight between us. The quiet still made me slightly uneasy, but it was growing on me. The sound of the breeze rustling the tree branches and the orchestra of crickets around us was actually soothing in a way. Then, off in the distance, I heard a train whistle.
“I love that sound. It’s so comforting. I may not remember much about Kansas from my visits when I was kid, but that’s a sound I never forgo
t,” I said as it whistled again.
“I guess I just take it for granted. I d
on’t even notice it sometimes.”
“I think we all take a lot of things for granted and don’t realize what we have till we don’t have it anymore,” I said as my mind drifted back home to Boston. I wondered what my friends
were up to. I knew for a fact they weren’t sitting in the middle of nowhere listening to crickets and trains like I was.
“What do you miss most about Boston?” he asked, looking at me through the artificial light, which caused shadows to fall across his face so
his usual gray eyes looked dark.
“W
hat don’t I miss?” I sighed and felt a smile spread across my face as I thought about home. “I miss everything,” I began with a laugh. “I really miss my friends,” I said as I thought about Natasha and Courtney and the other people who’d been the center of my universe before moving to Carver
“I guess we don’t compare to them,” J
esse said with a grin.
“No, I didn’t mea
n that. You guys are great.”
“Yeah rig
ht. You’d be fine without us.”
“No, Jesse. I’m serious. I don’t know what I would’ve done had Holly not been so nice to me on my first day. Yeah, my cousin would’ve probably taken me under his wing or something, but it wouldn’t have been the same,” I said
, reaching over and touching his knee. “Plus, I don’t think there are many people who would’ve put up with my brattiness the way you guys have.”
“Well, I’m glad Holly ran into you that day,” he said with a smile and then paused before continuing. “What else do you miss?”
“I miss the food…a lot!” My mouth practically started watering thinking about all the variety. “Especially the seafood. I’d give anything for a fresh lobster or some scallops right now, or a bowl of clam chowder,” I said, closing my eyes and practically tasting it on my tongue. Jesse started laughing and I opened my eyes to his amused face.
“What’s so funny?”
“Did you just say chowda?”
“No. I said
chowd-
er
,” I said emphasizing the er at the end.
“No, you didn’t. You said
chowda. Clam chowda! And I think I may have heard a lobsta in there too,” he continued with a laugh.
“Well…may
be I did.”
“Hey, you can’t get annoyed. You make fun of the way I talk, so it’s only fair I make fun of you.”
“I’m not annoyed. And you’re right, I deserve it. I’m surprised you haven’t said anything before now.”
“Well, it’s never been as blatant as now. It’s
kinda cute actually,” he said and I felt myself blush. “So, what else do you miss?”
“I also miss the history and all the old buildings. And I miss the ocean and all the boats on the water. I miss the Red Sox too.”
“I didn’t peg you as a ba
seball fan,” Jesse interrupted.
“You can’t live in Boston and not love the Red Sox.
It’s in the blood,” I smiled.
“Yeah, I’ve heard
Red Sox fans are kinda crazy.”
“You heard right then
. We are,” I laughed. “Ah, Jesse, you’ve gotta come to Boston someday. It’s so amazing.”
“Maybe I’ll get there someday. You’ll have to show me around,” he said and then looked at me seriously. “So, you’re heading back there right after graduation then?”
“That’s the plan,” I said, but as I looked over at Jesse, I thought he looked disappointed and he was quiet for a little bit.
“Yeah, I don’t blame you
. Nothing’s keeping you here.”
“No,
not really,” I agreed softly.
“Not even the boyfriend?”
he said and cracked a sly smile.
“I’l
l cross that bridge later.”
“Well, for what it’s worth, I’ll miss you when you’re gone,” he said softly and lowered his eyes from mine.
As I looked at him, I knew I’d miss Jesse too. The thought of leaving all my friends to return to Boston after graduation made me sad, which surprised me. All I could think about since the second my mom said we were moving to Kansas was when and how I could get back to Massachusetts. But now, I realized it was going to be harder leaving them that I had imagined.
“What about your mom? Is she gonna be alright with you going back?” he asked a few moments later, his eyes meeting mine again.
“I think she’s resigned herself to the fact that I’m going back. I don’t think she ever expected me to stay. I mean, she doesn’t have a choice anyway,” I said and I could hear the familiar bitterness returning to my voice whenever I thought about how my mother had ripped me away from everything I’d ever known and moved me here.
“Why didn’t you just stay in Bos
ton with your dad?”
“I don’t know. For one thing, my dad’s got this girlfriend, Robin, who I really can’t stand. Believe me, moving to Kansas was a much more desirable choic
e than living with her,” I cringed, thinking about the red-headed vixen my dad had shacked up with.
“You could’ve just sucked it up for a year if you wanted to stay in Boston,” he said and I found myself glaring at him. He had no clue about my life. What did he know? He’d never been torn away from everything he loved.
“It wasn’t just my dad’s girlfriend though. I guess I didn’t want to leave my mom. I don’t know why I felt sorry for her when obviously she didn’t really care about my feelings when she made the decision to come here, but I would’ve felt bad not coming with her.”
“See, you do love her,” he laughed and pushed me playfully. “You’re such a good daughter.”
“Yeah, I’m a peach,” I said sarcastically, recalling how awful I’d been to my mom. “Enough about me though. What about you?”
“What about me?” he asked.
“What’s your situation? When did your parents split up?” I asked and I noticed his disposition changed immediately. He seemed to shift uncomfortably and he began to fidget with his hands.
“A l
ong time ago,” he said quietly.
“I’m sorry
, Jesse. I didn’t mean to upset you,” I said, realizing I probably shouldn’t have brought it up. I’d known Jesse for a while and he’d never offered up any details. He’d obviously done that for a reason.