Free War Kids by HJ Lawson Page A

responded; he hadn't seemed shocked at all, but was excited about my idea. I pulled at the grass nervously while I waited for him to return.
    I bet Mother will say no. There is no way she’ll let me fire a gun. I began to weave long green pieces of grass through the chicken fence as I waited.
    I lay back and closed my eyes, feeling the sun beaming down on my face. I put my hand under my head. Nice… tan time .
    A few minutes later a shadow crossed me, and I opened my eyes. Father was standing there with a huge grin, holding what appeared to be a mini leather briefcase.
    “She said yes?”
    Father nodded and looked over to the side on the house. Mother was standing there wearing her blue dress, looking beautiful as always, but she had a concerned look on her face. She smiled at me and nodded her approval.
    “Thanks, Mother!” I shouted. She smiled and walked back into the house. Father reached out his hand for me, helping me up.
    “Why did Mother look sad?”
    “Because you’re growing up,” Father replied. “She would like a chat with you later about safety stuff.”
    Of course she would. I nodded and smiled. Nothing could dampen my excitement! This was the best thing to happen to me in months. The war really had changed everything. I hadn’t been to school for weeks and weeks after they started to bomb places. Friends moved away, many saying they were never coming back. Some people stayed because they didn’t have the money to leave, which was our problem too, although my parents would never admit it.
    Father and I were out in the garden, and the birds were singing all around us. It was a beautiful summer day, and I loved days like that when it was just the two of us. I chuckled to myself at the irony of appreciating how beautiful nature was while I was heading off to the woods to catch something for lunch. But it seemed right. We were hungry, and God put food on the earth for us.
    Checking that no one was around, Father placed the handgun into the palm of my hand. It was heavier than I thought it would be, but I could carry it just fine. It fit my hand like a well-tailored glove. Carefully, I wrapped my fingers around it. “Don’t worry, it’s not loaded yet,” Father told me.
    But I wasn’t worried, not one little bit. I felt alive.
    I gripped the textured handle in my right hand, pointing the barrel down to the dancing green grass. My thumb rested on one side, with my pinky finger on the handle. My hand began to tremble because I was holding it too tightly. I relaxed my shoulders a little, and the shaking stopped. It was a bit weird, but I felt like I’d held a gun before, like I knew what to do with it.
    My father watched me closely. “You’re a natural. I guess you take after me. Let’s see if your target skills are natural as well.” He looked proud of me, but also uncomfortable.
    I wondered why… I knew he was in the army for a long time, but he never talked about it.
    “Watch me… this is how you should stand,” he said.
    I watched him intensely as he stood with his feet about shoulder-width apart, his arms extended.
    I copied my father as he went through the motions and got into the same stance as him. Father reached out his hand. “Pass me the gun, time to add the bullets and practice.”
    Whoa, bullets! Best day ever.
    Father loaded the ammunition in the chamber by pulling back the slide. I watched him and tried to memorize each step.
    He passed me the gun, pointing it down to the ground. “Be careful, it’s loaded.”
    I took the gun from him; it felt a little bit heavier now. As instructed, I kept it pointed it down toward the ground.
    Father said, “Raise the gun into position.”
    I pointed it at eye level, with the tree as my target.
    “Now get a good focus. Take a deep breath, half exhale, and slowly squeeze the trigger.”
    I did as he said. The bullet flew out with lighting speed.
    A loud bang followed, and all the birds in the tree flew away. The force of the shot made me