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Chapter 11

After breakfast the next morning, Otis pulled me aside. "I was thinkin' 'bout last night."

"What about it?" I asked.

"Have ya ever even shot a gun before?"

I shook my head. "Nope."

"Yeah...didn't think so," he replied before ascending the stairs and making his way to his room as I followed, curious as to what his intentions were. He moved to the nightstand where the guns from the previous night still lay and grabbed both of them. He rummaged around in more drawers around the house until we had an assortment of different guns: a pistol, revolver, shotgun, hunting rifle, and a pump action shotgun.

Before handing me some to carry, he gave me the all too familiar warning to not try anything stupid, to which I assured him that I wouldn't do anything of the sort. After gathering enough guns and a large bag full of what sounded like aluminum (I couldn't see the contents of the bag), Otis led me outside and farther into the surrounding woods. We walked through the forest for a few minutes until we came upon a clearing. In the space sat a few flat, tall tree stumps spread out in a line with empty, bullet hole-ridden soda cans laying around in the undergrowth.

Otis placed the guns that he was carrying onto the floor and opened the aluminum-filled bag he also carried. Sure enough, the metallic sounds were even more soda cans. Otis took the cans and set three or four on each tree stump, forming a straight line across the clearing.  He moved back once the soon-to-be targets were aligned and picked up the guns he had set down.

He pulled me farther away from the targets so that there was about 35 feet between the cans and me. He took the guns I was holding out of my arms and set them down with his. He first picked up the pistol and handed it to me. He swiftly moved his hands to pull his own gun out of the holster attached to his belt. "Ya can never be too careful," he told me, seeing my eyes following his movements.

"Got it," I briefly responded, not wanting to run my mouth and get myself into some kind of trouble for misspeaking.

Otis drew near to me and grabbed my arm that was holding the pistol in his empty hand in a bone-shattering grip, nearly making me drop the weapon. "I'm only doin' this so ya can help out with the rabbits," he said, his hot breath hitting my face. "If ya decide to use my generosity against me or my family, the shit ya've seen will feel like a fuckin' splinter compared to what I'll do to ya." I could only nod in response, his intimidation rendering me voiceless.

He released my arm, leaving marks that would almost definitely develop into bruises. I wasn't sure if I would even be able to shoot in this condition. Thankfully, Otis returned his gun to the holster, but left the clasp unbuttoned as a discreet warning. He then grabbed me by my shoulders and turned me around to face the first can in the row. As I lifted my arms up to aim at the target, Otis's large hands closed around mine. In this position, his chest was pressed firmly against my back; we were so close that I could feel the movement of his chest as he breathed. I wasn't sure if this closeness was necessary, but I enjoyed it nonetheless.

Otis walked me through the basics of how to shoot each gun, teaching me how to deal with the recoil, how to keep a steady aim, how to reload, and whatever else he deemed important enough to tell me. After he was satisfied with my performance with one gun, we would move onto the next, then increase the distance and shoot with each gun again. By the end of my "lesson," more cans littered the forest floor, my hands were very sore, and I reeked of gunpowder. Overall, I don't think I did too bad. Obviously, I was nowhere near close to being as good of a marksman as Otis, but he seemed pleased with my progress.

Over the next few months, I got used to the antics that went on in the Firefly house. I became more accustomed to killing, Otis would further teach me how to use a gun and a knife properly (always with a warning to not "get any smart ideas"), RJ would give me occasional driving lessons, and Baby would sometimes take me out on shopping trips.