It was Kevin’s favorite time of year. The leaves were changing and the hot summer heat had faded meaning perfect temperatures for working outside. He sat on the tailgate and watched the river lazily flow, enjoying a hot cup and a smoke. Vern and Troy pulled in about five minutes later and hopped out of an old, white Econoline. They were arguing over last night’s game, Chiefs vs Packers, and Vern threatened Troy with a long walk home after work if he didn’t shut the fuck up about it.
“Fine, whatever,” Troy said, “Either one of you assholes wanna buy a gun?”
Boys love guns so Kevin and Vern gave Troy their rapt attention…
“It’s my Glock 17, two hundred an’ fifty bucks.”
“Why you selling it?” Kevin asked.
“I just need the money. Hell, I can’t afford to shoot it anyhow… Plus, this way I can be sure I don’t shoot the ex,” Troy chuckled. He was only half kidding. The wife and he had had a pretty nasty split a few years back. It still came up fairly regular in conversation. Kevin didn’t really know all the details, but he knew the important one; Troy hated that fuckin’ bitch.
Kevin couldn’t necessarily afford a pistol right now, and Natalie would be pissed…but that didn’t usually stop him from pulling out his wallet and it didn’t stop him today either. It was a goddam Glock, man! How was he expected to resist such an item at such a price? Maybe he would just keep it under the seat of the pickup for the time being…at least until he could come up with a better back story…
After work, still at the job site, Kevin knocked off a handful of beers so he would have something to shoot at. He liked the weight of the pistol in his hand. It was well balanced and it shot true. He was so delighted in fact, he had to have a few more brews to celebrate. Before he had lost his ass in Sandpoint, he had quite a gun collection. He had AK’s, an AR15, pistols of every caliber, hunting rifles, and few old collectibles too. It felt good to shoot again and he wished he could share it with Natalie. She didn’t really like guns though which baffled him to no end. Nothing beats blasting the shit outta stuff and if she would just try it; he knew she would like it.
(c) Rusty Henrichsen 2013