Carpe Diem (12 page)

Granted, he has been at the house a lot lately. It seems like when it rains, it pours. After fixing my dryer he had to come over and fix a small leak in the bathroom faucet, the ceiling fan in the bedroom, and the garbage disposal took a crap last week.

I’m lucky to have him around and for him to be so handy with tools. Jack truthfully knew how to pick a best friend. Flynn could not have been a better friend to Jack, and now to me.

Twenty-five short minutes later, I pull up to my house and see Flynn’s car. I was kind of expecting to see everyone here, but it looks as if it is only Flynn. I park my car in the driveway and announce, “I’m home” as I walk through the door.

I don’t see Flynn anywhere and he is not answering me.

“Heeeelllooo, anyone there?” I call out.

Nothing, not a word. Okay, so I guess this is a game of hide and go seek? I toss my purse on the couch and make my way to the kitchen, but stop when I see an envelope on the dining room table.

I was right! With childlike excitement, I race to the table and rip it open to learn the details of what Jack had planned next.

Piper,

Here we are again, another month has gone by and another adventure awaits you. I will take it easy on you this month and will teach you a new skill.

I have to admit I was a little surprised you added this to your list, but I agree every woman should know how to shoot a gun. And not those kinds of guns you see in the video games at the mall.

I reserved a spot just for us at the range, so you don’t have to worry about shooting anyone. Just kidding, well not really.

Jack

His words bring a smile to my face. Jack was always a bit of a joker. Just as I am folding the letter, Flynn comes around the corner from the kitchen with a big smile on his face.

“So I guess it’s you and me on this one,” Flynn announces.

“I guess so. Did you bring your body armor?” I laugh.

“Nope, only the guns. Did you want to change or anything before we go?” he asks.

“Yes, I
really
need to get out of these clothes, maybe take a quick shower… Do I have time?” I ask.

“Sure, about fifteen minutes.”

“You did not actually reserve the whole range did you? You didn’t know what time I was getting off work?”

“Jack had planned to reserve it for the whole day today. He wasn’t sure what time he was going to take you so he wanted the whole day to make it look spontaneous.”

“I see. He really did have all this planned out didn’t he? Wait then why do I only have fifteen minutes?”

“Yep, like I said, he put years into planning this, and the place does close at some point. I want to get there with plenty of time for you to be able to shoot as much as you want. Now go get ready.”

“All the guns? How many did you bring?”

“Go get ready, you will see when we get there. Now go before I pick you up and throw you in the shower with all your clothes on,” Flynn replies, amused.

I give him a squinty-eyed smile and dash up the stairs to get ready. I’m not sure how, but I managed to shower, get dressed and even put on some makeup with about two minutes to spare.

“Okay I’m ready, oh wait. I almost forgot.”

Flynn gives me an odd look as he watches me walk over to the hutch and retrieve a piece of the mug. I put it in my back pocket and put the bag back on the shelf next to the velvet box.

“Don’t give me that look,” I say jokingly.

“Hey, whatever you gotta do.” He smiles.

“I know I’m weird. There is something wrong with me isn’t there?” I ask.

“Nah, we all grieve in our own ways. If you want to carry around a broken piece of glass in honor of your dead husband, then you go right ahead and do that.”

“Well, when you say it like that it sounds like you should be taking me to the nut farm and not a shooting range,” I say, punching him in the arm.

“How do you know that is not the plan?” He laughs back.

“Whatever, let’s go.”

A short drive out of town later, we pull up to a large white building with only one other car in the parking lot. I actually feel bad that Jack reserved the whole day. I’m sure the worker has been bored off his or her ass today.

Walking into the building, I’m a little nervous, looking at the large cases Flynn is carrying. I’ve never shot a gun before. I’ve never even held a gun before. I’m not entirely sure why I thought to put it on my list.

After walking through the front door, you are stopped by a locked second door. To the right there is a small sliding window. We wait only a moment before a man comes to the window to greet us.

“I’m sorry we are closed for an event today,” he tells us.

“Yes, I’m Flynn Avery and this is Piper Reynolds.”

“Oh, hello, sir. Come right in I have been expecting you, I will meet you on the other side.”

The door buzzes and we are able to walk through to the large building. It is not anything like I expected, not that I had an idea what to expect. The man that greeted us exits a door to meet us.

“Mr. Avery, did you decide on the indoor or outdoor range?” he asks.

“Well, it’s a little chilly out so let’s start inside so she can concentrate.”

“Sounds good, please follow me.”

He leads us to a red door. When he opens it, he escorts us into a room with five lanes with cement dividers separating each lane.

“You have your choice of lanes. Each lane has been set up for you with a target and the extras are hanging on the wall of each lane. Let me know if you need anything, I will be up front,” he tells us and then excuses himself.

I am in awe of this place. The idea of coming here only to shoot targets is a little beyond me. I guess I am about to find out what all the fuss is about.

Flynn opens the smaller of the cases revealing the two handguns he has in it. One looks like it would fit in my hand nicely and the other looks like a hand cannon. The thing is huge! Who would want that and why in the heck would they even need it, I wonder.

“Okay, you ready for this?” Flynn asks.

“We are here so I should probably shoot them at least once I suppose.”

“All right then. We are going to start you off with the smaller one. It is a 9mm Ruger. Now it does have some kick, just to warn you.”

He takes his time showing me all the parts of the gun. He has me hold the gun unloaded so I can get used the feel of it. He teaches me about the gun’s safety, how when the little button is red the safety is off. To help me remember he tells me.

“Always remember RID. Red Is Dead.”

I nod.

“Remember, never point a gun at anything you are not willing to shoot or kill.”

I nod again.

“Also, always know your target and beyond.”

“What does that mean?” I ask.

“I mean that when you shoot a gun, make sure that if you miss you are not going to hurt something or someone else.”

A few more tips and, supposedly, I was ready to shoot. Flynn and I walk over to lane number one. He puts the empty gun and the clip on the ledge in front of me. He instructs me to put my earmuffs and safety glasses on.

“Now go ahead and pick up the gun, take your stance, don’t forget to put one in the chamber,” he tells me.

I do as he says then look to him for more instruction. He moves in close and helps place my arms and legs in the correct shooting stance. I realize this is the first time anyone has been this close to me since Jack died. It feels a little strange. I have known Flynn forever, and he must have touched me, or been close to me a thousand times. Why does this feel any different? Flynn brings my attention back to the gun when he tells me to breathe normally and when I exhale, pause for a second, and then pull the trigger.

As I slowly pull the gun up and aim at the center of the target, I feel Flynn wrap his arms around me to hold up my arms with me.

“Okay, so just breathe normally, inhale, exhale, trigger.”

BANG!!

My arms fly up from the kick of the gun. It is insane on how loud the firing was even with my earmuffs tightly hugging my ears. I look over my shoulder to Flynn.

“Do I shoot it again?” I ask with a smile.

“Whenever you are ready, go ahead.”

I look back to the target and again aim the gun down range and prepare the fire. Flynn is against my back helping to hold my arms in position.

BANG!! BANG!! BANG!!

I fire off three rounds back to back and then place the gun on the shelf in front of me. Removing my earmuffs, I turn to look at Flynn.

“That is actually kind of fun. I’m not sure I would make a hobby out of it, but I can see where that would blow off some aggression.”

Flynn laughs and then pushes a small button on the wall beside us. The target starts to move closer, and closer until it is right in front of us.

“Hmm, I didn’t do so great did I,” I say, looking at my holes that were far outside the center ring of the target.

“Honestly, you did better than I thought you would. You at least hit the target all four times. With some practice, you would be a great shot.”

“So should I keep shooting this gun?”

“It’s your adventure, you can do what you want to do.”

We continue to practice with the 9mm for another half hour before Flynn checks the barrel and it was getting too hot to continue using it. I have to admit that I was a little disappointed, but I had shot almost a hundred rounds into all the targets that were prehung for us.

I had shot several rounds and then moved on to the next lane. By the time we got to the end, most of my holes were in the smaller circles, not dead center, but the two black ones around that. I did manage to get one in the little red circle and started jumping for joy until Flynn took the gun away from me, reminding me I still had two rounds in it.

Flynn replaced all the targets and brought out the cannon. This thing was massive. The idea that people own these things were pretty scary. Flynn tells me it is a Smith and Wesson model 500. The barrel must be at least eight inches long. He explains to me the basic differences between the 9mm that I just shot and this. The 9mm has a clip with seven shots; this is a revolver style and has six. The other one would fire each time I pulled the trigger where this one I have to pull the hammer back each time to fire.

When Flynn hands me the cannon, unloaded, I nearly drop it to the ground. I expected it to be heavy, though not that heavy. I actually need both hands to hold it.

“Wow, I’m not sure I will be able to aim this one very well.”

“Piper, if you actually manage to pull it up and fire it, I will be impressed. With this one there is no way you are going to hit the target.” He laughs.

I accept his challenge and offer a wager of sorts.

“So are you willing to put your money where your mouth is?” I ask.

“Well, I suppose if you are willing to lose it I am willing to take it.”

“If I hit the target, you buy dinner tonight. If I don’t hit it, I will buy dinner, deal?”

“It’s your money.”

Flynn takes back the gun and puts one bullet in it. He spins the cylinder and pops it closed. He sets the gun on the shelf in front of the lane and places his earmuffs on.

“Whenever you are ready?”

I smile, nod, and turn to face the lane as I put my earmuffs and safety glasses back on. When ready, I pull up the gun and line up the site with the red dot on the target. I remind myself to breathe, inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale. Man, this gun is heavy; my arms are starting to shake. Inhale, exhale… BANG!

My arms fly above my head, my hands fighting to keep a hold of the large gun. Now I know why he only put one bullet in. My arms come back down as gravity demands, and I can feel my jaw on the floor.

“You could have warned me about that kick.”

“What fun would that have been?” Flynn says laughing and reaching for the gun.

I look down the lane at the target to see if I came close to hitting it. I don’t see anything so I start to squint. Flynn pushes the button to bring it in for a closer look.

“So when you said I wouldn’t hit the target…”

“Yeah.”

“What did that mean?”

“That I was right in thinking that you wouldn’t hit the paper at all. Looks like I win.”

“So this little half hole, partial tear sort of thing on the right side here… that should count since it did, in fact, hit the paper, right?” I ask with a smirk.

Flynn’s happy little I win smile falls as he inspects the tear. He even goes so far as the reach out with his right hand to feel for texture difference.

“I guess technically that was probably made by your bullet.”

“So that would mean that I am actually the winner here,” I tell him, adding in my own little happy dance.

Flynn rolls his eyes and starts to pack up the guns. I think I have had about enough of the cannon.

“Okay, you ready for some rifle action?”