That evening, Amanda and Cole cooked hamburgers on the grill. At her suggestion, they also grilled asparagus, squash, white potatoes, and sweet potatoes. They ate on a metal table on the back porch. It had an umbrella for blocking the sun but the thick pines surrounding the home softened the light. The days were still warm and muggy but cooled off quickly at the high elevation.
They used paper plates and threw them away when they were done. They worked together to clean up the kitchen and had it back to its normally organized state in short order.
“You want to shoot some?” Cole asked. They’d talked about it ever since she’d come to live with them but they hadn’t done it yet.
“Sure,” she said. It was something they’d done often when she’d come to visit him over the years. They’d set up targets at his home range and she’d shoot at them with a .22 caliber rifle or pistol.
“What do you want to shoot?” he asked.
“Let’s do pistols. I want to learn to shoot a handgun.”
“Handguns it is,” Cole said.
They went to the room where Cole kept his gear. He loaded Amanda with the range bag and an ammo can, then removed a couple of handguns from the safe. They returned to the backyard. Cole verified each gun was empty as he removed them from their individual plastic cases, then laid them out on the table with the slides locked back.
“These magazines are loaded with hollow points,” he said, pointing to a round with a hole in the tip of the bullet. “These are expensive rounds so we don’t use them for targets. These are only for self-defense.”
“What’s the difference?” Amanda asked, examining one.
“Those expand on impact. They create a devastating wound channel which accelerates blood loss.”
Amanda’s eyes widened and her lips curled. “That’s gross.”
“If you’re fighting for your life or the life of a loved one, sympathy for your attacker is not normally a concern. Usually you’re just looking to stop the fight as quickly as possible.”
“That makes sense,” Amanda said. “Your description was just a little graphic.”
“Sorry,” Cole said.
“Which is the gun you carry every day?” Amanda asked.
Cole pointed to one on the table. “That’s a 9mm Shield. Put on your safety glasses and your hearing protection.”
Amanda did as she was told and Cole slid a mag in the Shield, then dropped the slide, chambering a round. He slid the weapon into the Kydex holster which he then tucked into his pants, beneath the tail of his t-shirt.
“Watch that steel torso,” Cole said, pointing to a rectangular steel plate hanging from a wooden post.
In a smooth motion, Cole raised his shirttail and drew the Shield. He raised the gun, got his two-hand grip in place, and steadily dumped the magazine. Each round hit the plate center-mass, boldly ringing the steel target like a bell.
“That was cool,” Amanda said. “Can you teach me to shoot like that?”
“It takes practice, but you can definitely learn it. I’ve got a Smith & Wesson .22 pistol similar to this one. You can run through a lot of drills with it using cheaper ammo.”
“Show me where to start.”
Cole started her on the basics of grip and hand position. He explained the role of the support hand in taming recoil. He talked about both trigger pull and finger position on the trigger. When she started to zone out on the information overload, he explained some of those things would make more sense over time as she became more experienced.
He showed her how to load a magazine with the less expensive solid point rounds, instructing her to keep the muzzle pointed downrange at all times. She inserted the magazine and chambered a round. He reminded her there was no safety and she should keep her finger out of the trigger guard until she was ready to shoot.
Cole got behind her where he could give instruction. She raised the weapon to the target and placed her support hand, aligned her sights, positioned her trigger finger, and pulled slowly. The gun boomed, immediately followed by the ring of the steel. Cole watched his daughter’s face and saw a smile curl the edges of her mouth. Her look of satisfaction made him smile too.
Not every round hit the steel but enough did that Cole was certain she had the bug. When the gun was empty, Cole took it from her and confirmed it was clear. He dropped the mag onto the table.
“What do you think?” he asked.
“It was fun. Can I shoot some more?”
Cole grinned. “Music to my ears. Let’s load some more magazines.”
They stood around the range table and loaded mags, Cole giving her pointers as they went.
“Dad, I need to ask you something.”
Cole stopped loading his current magazine, a look of concern crossing his face.
“Nothing bad,” she added.
“You just sounded serious,” he said.
“I don’t think it’s that serious but it’s important to me.”
“Let’s hear it. If it’s important to you, it’s important to me.”
“How hung up are you on me working with you in the construction business this summer?”
Cole looked at his daughter. She continued her task, not looking up at him.
“Well, you know I don’t want you just hanging around the house all day doing nothing. It’s not that I think you’re going to hurt yourself, but I just don’t think it’s good for anyone to loaf all day and not do anything. It’s important to have activities to fill your day. You need a reason to get out of bed every morning.”
“I agree,” Amanda said. “But what if I had another job opportunity?”
“I would be open to it as long as I knew you’d be somewhere safe all day. I don’t think I could allow you to go work on another construction site where I didn’t know the people.”
“It wouldn’t be in construction,” Amanda said. “It would be at the bike shop in town.”
“What’s the allure of this bike shop? You had to get all decked out the other day just to pick up your bike and now you want to work there?”
“I’ve made a friend there. I’d like to work around people my own age. You guys don’t talk about anything but guns, politics, and hunting. It gets a little old.”
Cole went around the table and hugged his daughter. He wasn’t an overly affectionate guy but he wanted her to know that this was not a sensitive topic. She was not hurting his feelings by bringing this up. In fact, he wanted her to feel comfortable coming to him with anything. Who knew how much time they even had together? In a year, she could decide she wanted to go away to college or move out on her own. She’d be old enough. If their time together was limited, he wanted it to be honest, open time with no games and no bullshit.
“Look, Amanda, I wanted you on my job because I didn’t want you home all day. I understand you wanting to be around people your own age. I’m fine with taking a job at the bike shop. In fact, I’m proud of you for wanting to work and for finding a job on your own. You remind me so much of myself sometimes. I didn’t realize there was this much of me inside there.”
Amanda hugged her dad back. “Thanks, Dad. I was kind of nervous about bringing it up. I thought you might be mad.”
Cole looked genuinely confused, even hurt by that remark. “I don’t get it. Why would you think we couldn’t talk about this?”
Amanda hesitated.
“Tell me,” Cole said. “I can see there’s a reason.”
“Mom said you were unreasonable,” Amanda said. “She said…a lot of things.”
Cole sighed. “Do I seem unreasonable to you?”
“No.”
“I don’t think that’s something most people would say about me,” Cole said. “Most people who have known me think I’m pretty fair and pretty reasonable.”
“Then why did Mom say it? What happened between you guys?” The question had slipped out before Amanda knew it was happening. She was just thinking out loud. She hadn’t intended to ask. Now it was out there.
Cole picked up another magazine and started thumbing rounds into it. “That’s a sensitive topic, sweetie. I’m not sure I’m ready to go there yet. Can I ask you to respect that?”
This, again, was not the reaction she’d expected from him. He wasn’t angry. He appeared wounded. To hear her mother tell it, her dad had never been this reasonable.
“Of course, Dad. I’m sorry I brought it up.”
“No, that’s okay. You can bring up anything with me. I promise. I’m just not ready to talk to you about it yet.”
Amanda was feeling open and unfiltered at the moment. Perhaps she was saying things that she should not have been speaking out loud. Before she could stop herself, she kept going. “I found one of Mom’s old social media accounts. From when I was a kid. I’ve been looking at those old pictures and saving some of them.”
Cole nodded but didn’t look up from what he was doing. She couldn’t tell if he was mad, upset, or just numb.
“I feel like I’m learning new things about her. It’s like finding an old photo album that you never knew existed.”
“Social media can be a lot different than a photo album,” her dad warned. “Be careful about what doors you open. There are things you can’t un-see once you’ve seen them.”
Amanda frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Exactly what I said. Just be careful.”
She still didn’t completely understand what he meant by that. Anxious to change the subject, she pulled her Dad to her. “Hey, can we get a selfie?”
Her dad laughed. “I’m not sure I understand this whole selfie thing.”
“That’s okay. I understand it enough for the both of us.”
She snapped a pic of the two of them together, her holding the 9mm Shield. She typed a quick description. #mynewlife #rangetime #shootingwithdad
“You know, Dad, you should open a few social media accounts.”
Cole frowned. “Why the hell would I want to do something like that?”
“There’s all kinds of interest groups on there. You could socialize with other people who like the same things you like, guns, carpentry, the outdoors.”
“I socialize with people who like those things every day. Real people. In person.”
Amanda laughed. “I don’t understand what you don’t like about it. I know a lot of people your age who use social media. Fox and Mom used it all the time.”
“Nothing surprising there,” Cole muttered.
“What’s that about?”
“Nothing,” Cole said.
Amanda had a good time shooting with her dad. They laughed and joked. She became comfortable with several of the handguns and learned the differences between them. She could feel herself getting better with each magazine. It was one thing for someone to tell you how to hold the gun and how to aim but there was no substitute for practice, for real trigger time. There she saw the effect of different hand positions, different finger placements on the trigger, and different sight pictures.
When the light began to fade, Cole told her it was time to pack up for the evening. While he hauled the guns and range bag back inside, Amanda picked up as much of the spent brass as she could and dumped it into a bucket in the garage. Cole didn’t regularly reload 9mm but he wanted to save his brass just in case. Like many gun guys, he was always concerned that the government might find some way to restrict ammunition sales as a way to stick it to gun owners. He wanted to be ready.
Cole stacked the gun cases on the kitchen table and retrieved his cleaning kit from the spare room.
“If you’re going to enjoy shooting you have to learn to enjoy cleaning too,” Cole said when Amanda came in the house. “I’m going to show you how to strip these weapons and do a basic cleaning.”
“Sure,” Amanda said. “I want to learn.” She sat down at the table and placed her phone beside her. She hadn’t even started on her first handgun when her text notification went off. She picked up the phone and could not help but smile.
“Let me guess, it’s about the job?” Cole asked.
“Yes,” Amanda said, reading the message. “You sure it’s okay if I accept?”
Cole nodded. “Not a problem. I’m fine with it.”
Amanda replied to the text: Dad’s cool with it. Yay! When do I start?
The reply was immediate.
Ben: Great. Can you come by the shop tomorrow or the next day? We’ll go over the details.
Amanda: Sure. I’ll text you tomorrow and let you know when.
Ben: Cya then.
Amanda wasn’t even aware she was grinning at her phone until she felt her dad staring at her. “What?”
“Oh nothing,” he said.
“You going to show me how to clean or not?” she asked, feigning impatience.
“Of course,” he replied. “If you can push bicycle boy out of your head long enough to pay attention.”
“I’m paying attention,” Amanda snarled. “Get on with it.”
The two of them spent the next hour disassembling, cleaning, and reassembling the guns. Cole told her what to do but had Amanda perform each step of the operation. When they were done, they put everything back in the safe except for Cole’s S&W Shield. It went to his room with him.
“So do I get one more day of work out of you?” he asked.
“I guess so,” she said. “I have to run by the bike shop at some point though.”
“Then you better head to bed. I get to drag you out of bed at five A.M. for at least one more day.”
Amanda hugged her dad and headed off to her room. She took a quick shower before bed and checked her social media accounts. She responded to comments on the pictures she’d posted throughout the day. She liked and commented on the posts of her friends back in Virginia. After nearly falling asleep several times, she gave in and put her phone on the charger for the night.