Smokey

“I’m not afraid to leave, I’ve done it plenty of times, but I don’t like the thought of leaving on a Saturday night. Especially when she’s going out with Richard.”

Sandy shook her head adamantly. “Don’t worry. I mean it. I’ll wait up, just like we do when you are home. And, I’ll set the alarm, just like you do. She’ll be fine. We’ll be fine.”

I didn’t like leaving Eddie, nor did I like leaving Sandy.

“I don’t have to like it,” I said. “And, to be straight with you, I don’t like leaving you, either.”

Her face went flush. “That was sweet.”

“Wasn’t meant to be sweet,” I said. “I’m just telling you how I feel.”

She glared playfully. “Well, it was sweet.”

I wagged my eyebrows.

“Do you have a say?” she asked. “Can you stay home?”

I shook my head. “It’s mandatory. I have no choice.”

“Then go, and have fun. Eddie and I will both be fine.”

I leaned over the edge of the table. “Come here.”

She did the same, and met me in the center of the table.

I kissed her. It seemed to happen a lot more lately, and I was growing to like it much more than I ever would have guessed. Kissing was something that had been missing from my life, and experiencing it was something that seemed to draw me closer to Sandy each day.

So, I decided to kiss her as much as possible.

“I like it when you kiss me,” she said.

“Makes two of us. I like kissing you.”

She wiped her mouth with her fingertips. “Don’t worry about anything. I’ll text you every few hours if you want.”

“How about every hour, on the hour?”

“Okay.”

“I’ve got a few rules that need to be followed,” I said. “I meant to go over them with you before now, but I guess I forgot.”

“What are they?”

“Cops show up for any reason, no matter what they say, don’t let them in the house unless they have a search warrant.”

“How do I know if they have one?”

“You ask to see it.”

“And, if they don’t have one?”

“You tell them to leave.”

“Is there. I mean, is there stuff in here that--”

“It’s the principle. No, there’s nothing illegal in this home. And, I have nothing to hide. But. I’m not letting some shit hat cop come in here and plant any evidence. That’s the last thing I need, is to be doing a dime for something I didn’t do.”

“What’s a dime?”

“Ten year bit.”

“Oh my God,” she gasped. “They’d do that?”

“They do it all the time.”

“Okay, no coming inside without a search warrant. What else?”

I reached in my pocket, pulled out my pistol, and set it on the table. After opening the cylinder, I unloaded it, and showed her that all five shells were on the table.

“Empty. You see where they go?”

She nodded. “Uh huh.”

I handed it to her. “Here.”

“Oh wow,” she said. “It’s heavy.”

“Has to be. It’s a .357 magnum. If it wasn’t, it’d kick so hard it’d break your wrist.”

“What’s a .357 magnum?”

“It’s the shell size. Like a .38 special, only longer.”

“Oh.”

“It’s what they call a double action,” I explained. “All you do is point it, and pull the trigger. There’s no safety, no switches, no nothing. Just point, and pull the trigger.”

“Okay.”

I pointed to the left side of the pistol. “Push the lever on the side there, by your thumb, and tilt the pistol to the left.”

She did as I asked, and the cylinder fell open.

“See that all five holes are empty?”

She looked at the cylinder. “Uh huh.”

“It holds five bullets, that’s all. With all five holes open, it can’t do anything, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Push the cylinder closed.”

She closed the cylinder and looked at me.

“Point it at the refrigerator and pull the trigger.”

“Are you sure?” she asked.

I nodded. “It’s unloaded.”

She squinted, and slowly squeezed the trigger. When the pistol dry fired, she jumped.

“It’s that simple,” I said. “Now, it’s got a 2” barrel. You can’t really aim it, so I’m not going to explain all of that to you. If you ever have to use it, you hold it in your hand just like you are, and you point it, just like you’re pointing your finger. If you can point your finger at something, you can point the gun at something. Make sense?”

“Uh huh.”

“Point it at the sink.”

She pointed it at the sink.

“Point it at the trash can.”

She did the same.

I turned up my palms. “It’s that easy.”

“Here are the rules about guns.”

She set the gun aside, and looked at me.

“Never, under any circumstances, point a gun, any gun, at something you aren’t 100% comfortable shooting.”

She swallowed heavily, and then nodded. “Okay.”

“No matter what.”

“Okay.”

“Once you’ve made the decision that you’re going to point it at someone, you’ve got one of two situations. The first is this: you need to shoot, and there’s no time for demands. In that case, you do not hesitate, you shoot. Hesitation will cost someone’s life. Shoot first, make up a story to cover your ass later. The second is this: You want someone to do something. If that’s the case, you point the gun, and give your demand. For instance, a man is raping a chick behind a trash dumpster. I’ll pull the gun and say, get off of her and get on the ground. If he complies, great. If not, I’ve got a decision to make. Either way, I’m prepared to shoot, and we know that because why?”

She sat up straight. “Because you pointed it?”

I leaned over and kissed her. “You’re a quick learner.”

“So, that sums it up. Don’t point it unless you are mentally prepared to shoot it, and don’t hesitate if there’s a life at stake.”

“Got it.”

“I’m going to load it now. When I leave, it’ll be loaded. Leave it that way, and only get it out of the dresser drawer if you have to. It’s not an illegal weapon, but it’s not registered to me, either. It’s just easier that way. If the cops ever do a trace on it, it won’t come back to me.”

“Okay. What about you? What if--”

I raised my fists. “I’ve got these.”

She sighed. “I like your hands. And your little tattoo flowers. Don’t hurt them.”

“I’ll do my best.”

“Don’t let anything happen to my three babies.”

She looked at me and squinted her eyes. “Three?”

I nodded. “You, Eddie, and little man.”

She grinned. “I won’t.”

My gut told me I could trust her.

So, that’s what I did.