CHAPTER 5
The firearm safety classes started after school the very next afternoon. Ethan was pretty excited to go to the first class. Along with a dozen other kids, Ethan got to learn how to safely aim and shoot a gun.
They learned a lot about hunting. They also learned a lot about taking care of guns, how to load a gun and clean it, and safety tips for being in the woods. Ethan thought it was a pretty fun class.
The class lasted for a few hours every day for a week. Finally, Ethan earned his Firearm Safety certificate.
After Ethan had earned his certificate, it was time to start learning from his dad.
Ethan’s family lived a few miles out of town. Their backyard was a big forest. It was a great place to play. It was also a good place to practice shooting.
After school one day, Ethan and his dad headed out into the woods. It was getting dark, but there was still enough light coming through the treetops that they could see clearly.
Ethan’s father brought along some old cans to use as targets. He carefully showed Ethan how to load the pellets into his gun. Then he showed him how to line up the target through the gun’s scope.
Ethan peered through the scope. He aimed carefully at the root beer can that was his target. He pointed the gun at one of the Os in “root.” Slowly, carefully, Ethan pulled the trigger.
Pffft! The gun fired. The gun’s noise wasn’t sharp and loud like the sound of a gunshot. Still, the power of the gun made Ethan jerk back.
Ethan lowered the gun and flicked the safety back on so that he wouldn’t accidentally fire the gun again.
He looked at the root beer can, which was about 25 yards away.
The can was still standing up. It hadn’t moved an inch.
Dad laughed. “Try it again, son,” he said.
Ethan made another shot. But again, the can didn’t move.
Dad frowned. “I wonder if there’s something wrong with the sight on the gun,” he said. “Can I take a look?”
Ethan handed him the gun. “Go ahead,” Ethan said.
His father looked closely at the gun. “See, if it isn’t set up right, you could be aiming at something that you’re not looking at,” he explained to Ethan. “That would cause a bad shot for sure.”
Dad aimed the gun at the root beer can and pulled the trigger. PFFT! With a burst of noise, the can flew off the post it had been sitting on.
Ethan frowned. “I guess it works,” he said quietly.
Dad looked at the gun and shook his head. “Well,” he said, “everything seems to be set up right. Try it again.”
Ethan fired the gun 20 or 30 more times that night. He never hit one of his targets. Not even once.
“It can be very difficult to hold steady at the target as you get ready to fire,” Ethan’s father said as they walked back toward the house. “Even the smallest movement can cause you to miss a small target like a can. Tomorrow night, we’ll try something bigger. Don’t worry, you’ll get it.”
Ethan nodded. But he wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to hit his target. If he couldn’t hit a dumb metal can, how could he ever hit a deer?