“I didn’t say anything about you carrying a gun. I asked if you’d take the class with my mom.”
Valerie pursed her lips and finally nodded. “Okay. I can do that.”
Valerie sat next to Bradand Rosaline in the classroom in the back of the gun store and watched the safety video for the concealed carry class, wondering how she ended up here. A gun killed her parents. Law enforcement officers tended to shoot people who carried guns, especially people of her color. Did Brad not understand the taboo nature of such a thing?
Of course, he didn’t. He had no reason to.
Even so, she did the worksheets, listened to the lectures, watched the video, and soon found herself on the shooting range, hearing protection securely on her ears, goggles covering her eyes. She gripped Rosaline’s .38 revolver the way Philip and Buddy had taught her and fired at the target of a silhouette of a man. Good shot, center mass. The next three shots grouped closely to the first. The fifth hit slightly to the right. It surprised her how well she did because she hadn’t picked up a handgun in fifteen years.
She retrieved her target and kept her hearing protection on while watching Rosaline and Brad shoot. Brad instructed his mom then stood to the side and let her shoot at her target. When Rosaline finished, Brad wasted no time firing his shots.
Soon, she found herself signing the form that would give her the paper to prove she’d taken the class. “Take that to the courthouse, and they’ll get it processed for you,” the instructor said.
“Thanks,” she said with a tight-lipped smile. She followed Brad and Rosaline out of the building. “That was an experience,” she said.
“You did well,” Brad remarked. “Are you going to submit your application?”
“Probably not.”
“Oh, come with me,” Rosaline said. “We’ll do it together. Then I won’t feel so weird.”
“Why do you even want a permit?” Valerie asked.
“Because I don’t have one.” Rosaline winked and pulled the clip out of her hair, running her fingers through the frosted strands. “My women’s group has a shooting club. I want to join. I think it would be fun.”
That made sense. She smiled. “Okay. I’ll go with you.”
“Great! Let’s go Monday at lunch.”
“Sure.” She looked over at Brad. “Assuming I can get off work. My boss is kind of a stickler.”
“Hey,” he grinned, “my boss just spoke. I don’t argue with her.”
He opened the door of his car for his mother while simultaneously opening the back door for her. She slipped into the seat and looked at the paperwork in her lap. Would she feel safer with a gun? Or would it make everything worse?
“Thanks for bringing me today,” she said to him when he got into the driver’s seat. He met her eyes in the review mirror and winked at her before starting the car.
“Glad you got something out of it.” He backed out of the parking lot. “You’re going to the game today with your uncle, right?”
“Yeah. He’s picking me up in an hour.”
“So, no time to stop for lunch, then.”
“No.” She looked at her watch. “I figured I’d grab something at the stadium.” A stadium hot dog and some popcorn sounded so good right now. When had she last sat in Buddy’s seats and enjoyed a hot dog while watching the Braves? Ten years ago? Eleven?
They’d had plans to go to opening night together, but they both had meetings at work and couldn’t go. He ended up giving his tickets to someone with whom he worked. She’d promised him nothing would conflict with today’s game.
Her mind wandered through growing up in those same seats and all the fun she and Buddy had watching the games together. Like so many other things, they were buried memories that she suddenly allowed to spring forth. How had she not thought about it for years? How did she not realize how much she’d missed it?
Before she realized the time had passed, Brad pulled into her driveway. She pulled her keys and her phone out of her purse and waited for Brad to open her door. As she slid out of the car, Rosaline said, “Monday, right?”
“Yes, ma’am. I’ll be ready.”
He shut her door and she looked up at him. “Thanks for suggesting this.”
With a half-smile, he asked, “Was it as bad as it used to be when we were kids?”
Valerie remembered being afraid of shooting. She always went because she refused to let the Dixon brothers one-up her, but having an orphan’s knowledge of what a bullet could do to a human body, she hated it.
