Dead Shot

           Joey and Daniel crept into Daniel’s parents’ bedroom. Daniel sat on his knees as he searched underneath the bed. He exclaimed excitedly and pulled out a heavy case, laying it on the bed. Snapping open the locks, he opened it. His father’s long rifle, gleaming stock and barrel, sat before them. The smell of sulfur and gun oil was pungent. 

‘This is so cool!’ Joey said. 

‘Yeah, my dad’s a dead shot with this thing,’ Daniel said proudly. 

‘Have you shot it?’

‘My dad showed me how. It’s easy.’

Daniel lifted the rifle from the grooves of its case and hefted it in his hands. It was heavy, but he showed no strain. 

‘Can I hold it?’ Joey asked. 

‘Sure.’ Daniel held the rifle to Joey, who took it. He grinned widely. Daniel looked into the case where he knew the bullets were stored. They weren’t there. 

‘Let’s take it outside!’ Joey shouted.

They went out into Daniel’s backyard. Joey was pointing the rifle at a tree, sighting it with the rifle’s scope. He made a gunshot sound and lowered it. From a neighboring house, the boys saw Mrs. Phgerner on her back porch. Joey had a particular hatred for this woman, for she was the one who told his father of his roughhousing last week, which earned him a beating with his father’s belt. 

Joey leveled the rifle against his shoulder, sighting her in the scope. He placed his finger on the trigger. Daniel noticed that the rifle’s safety was off. 

Mrs. Phgerner’s head was in the dead center of the scope when Joey pulled the trigger.