Renewal 4 - Down on the River Read Online Free PDF

the tree as we could get. The crow’s nest was ideal for catching the stray breezes but we fought over the spot until our parents laid down the law. The crow’s nest quickly became a reward for doing work. I was sitting up there, enjoying my reward for splitting firewood, when Dad called up to me. I groaned, thinking fifteen minutes was a pretty weak reward, and climbed down to the ground.
    “Today, you need to learn to shoot,” Dad said.
    My inner grumbles were immediately replaced by excitement. As far as I was concerned, it was about time. I was imagining myself with a Western style six shooter and a lightning fast draw when Dad climbed down into the storage pit and came back with two of the military rifles we had taken off of our intruders.
    “What are we shooting, Dad?”
    “Nothing around here. We’ll have to hike out far enough to keep the sounds of our shots from drawing  in trouble.”
    Dad loaded one of the small packs with some ammunition, and made me carry it. We set off to the north, and quickly emerged from our woods into the open field. Dad was watching the horizon carefully as we pushed our way through the tall grass. We came to the road and ducked through the strands of barbed wire on Mr. Carroll’s fence. We sat low in the ditch before we crossed the road. Dad was taking the security seriously, or maybe he was just trying to model good behavior. Either way, we finally crossed the road and kept heading north through another grassy field. There was a small group of houses to our right, but no sign of activity around them. We kept walking until we entered another section of woods and headed down a gradual slope. We stayed in the woods long enough for me to wonder how far was far enough, when Dad angled to the right and stopped at the edge of the woods.
    Dad pulled a big silver can from the pack and carried it along the edge of the woods until he found a rotten stump. He placed the can on the stump and walked back to me. So far, I had not even touched the guns. Dad had carried them both and set them on the ground when he set the can as a target. He picked them up and said, “First rule. Never, ever point a gun at anyone, unless you intend to shoot that person. This isn’t cops and robbers. This thing will kill you. Understand?”
    I nodded mutely.
     “When you pick up a gun, always check to see it is loaded. See the magazine in the rifle?”
    Another nod.
    He set one of the rifles down again, and held the other one up for a closer look. “If the magazine is in the gun, assume it is loaded. If the magazine is not in the gun, assume there’s a bullet in the chamber, ready to fire. Pull this lever to see if it’s loaded.”
    Dad pulled the lever back halfway, and there was indeed a round in the chamber, and I could see that the magazine was loaded as well. “To unload it, hit this catch to release the magazine, and pull the lever all the way back to eject the round in the chamber.” He demonstrated, catching the magazine and picking the loose bullet off the ground, which he slid back into the magazine. The rifle was empty, and he handed it to me. It was lighter than I expected.
    “Ok, let’s practice with the gun unloaded. Here’s the safety. Flip it to here for safe, and here for fire.”
    Dad took his time and showed me how to hold the rifle, explained how to aim, and made sure that I kept my finger off the trigger until I was ready to fire. The first time I pulled the trigger, the dry click made me jump. I was already anticipating a big explosion. Then, he handed me the magazine, and watched as I slammed it into place, pulled the lever gingerly to chamber a round and cock the weapon. This was it. I’m sure I expected worse than I got, because when I fired, I jerked the trigger and probably missed the can by four feet.
    “Take a deep breath, let it out, and just squeeze the trigger.”
    On the second shot I saw rotten bits of wood fly off the side of the stump.
    “Better, Bill.”
    By the