"Now, fire! Remember, squeeze the trigger. Don't pull it! Don't focus on the recoil. Anticipating and worrying about recoil will cause you to tense up too much and pull the trigger instead of squeezing it. That gun isn't going to bite you. It's only going to hurt you if you don't take precautions. This is an automatic, boys and girls. It doesn't have the same kick to it as a revolver, anyway," I finished teaching my last marksmanship class of the day, using my four years in the Army and six years on the Force to the best of my ability now that I had parted company with the Sheriff's Department.
"Remember, ear plugs are your friends. You do not want to get vertigo or, worse, wreck your eardrums permanently. A ringing sensation in your head is not a good thing! Now, clear your weapons, pull out your magazines, and the safety back on, so we don't have any accidents. Remember, your gun is always loaded, even if it isn't. You can't afford to assume anything about the loading. A mistake can kill you or any of us. Alright, boys and girls. Solid work! Now, sign out on the log sheet at the front desk, as the training course is done for this session. Next session is the same time next Saturday at 5 pm. Enjoy your weekend and stay safe!" I called out to the class as I prepared to clock out for the day.
"Hey, bro, is this where you're hiding out?" my baby brother, Raymond, aka "Ray," grabbed me in a bear hug, "is that a gun in your holster or are you just happy to see me?"
"Haha, kiddo. You know that I teach shooting here five days a week. So, what brings you out to this neck of the woods?" I wondered openly, since I hadn't really seen Ray much after leaving Florida and the family behind me.
"Well, Miriam and I wanted to start over, so if that's okay, we hoped that we could crash with you for a bit. Just 'til we can get back on our feet, that is. I know that it's a lot to ask, but, hey, you seem to be doing pretty well, right? I hear that you're making more money now than you did as a cop, at least. I...uh, lost my ministry, you know. Church, parsonage, all of it. Full-time pastor's salary, fifty grand per year, all gone, just like that. Kicked out. It's a long story, but I can explain later. Maybe over supper or something," Ray admitted, looking rather embarrassed about being dismissed as senior pastor of his church.
"Damn, there must really be a story there, unless I'm mistaken. Yeah, how about you and Miriam get moved in, unpack a little, and then join me tonight for some pizza and wings? I have to warn you, though, that I still drink, I smoke pot, and I have a revolving door of ladies that tend to come and go from my life. Yeah, I do a lot of sinnin', bro. A lot. You and Miriam share a house with me, you're sharing it with my wicked lifestyle of drugs and drunken debauchery. Not afraid that it won't rub off, Ray? You could get room and board, but it might cost you your soul, dude," I teased my kid brother, knowing that he was self-righteous in more recent years.
"That's fine, for reasons that I'll get into later at...well, wherever we end up eating tonight, that is. There's a good deal of backstory of the scandalous kind to my expulsion from the church. In fact, I've been formally kicked out of the Assemblies of God entirely. Long story on that. Then again, I'm not honestly sure what I think and feel about matters of faith these days. It's a real crisis for us in spiritual as well as material affairs, kid. Anyway, let's get out of here. Miriam's eager to see you again. You've been a stranger, bro. She misses you as much as I do," Ray shared a bit more detail, though he thankfully stopped short of discussing the rest of it in public.
"Fair enough. Let's get you guys settled in a little better. I've got a room that you'll like, I think. Not the master bedroom, of course, as it's my place. Uncle Hank left it to me, you know. A pretty swell home, really, if you think of it. You don't mind the hacienda style of house, do you? Very Southwestern, I can tell you that much. I live not far from here, just outside the city limits, of course. Come on, Hoss. Let's check out my Ponderosa!" I chuckled as I headed to the parking lot and ran straight into the lips of my sister-in-law, Miriam Lamont.
Yeah, that's right. My brother's wife planted a big, sloppy, wet kiss on my lips, much to my utter shock, right in the presence of her own husband, my brother himself. At least she didn't use any tongue, but that was enough to draw the attention of one of my students, Amber, who winked at me and mouthed "stud" in my direction. Amber even whispered to one of my other trainees, Katja, who gave me a gesture clearly insinuating oral sex. A colleague from the same gun shop, Lizzie, caught on and went further with some hand signals meant to imply that Miriam was my lover or something. Since Lizzie tended to give me the cold shoulder of late for whatever mysterious reason, perhaps it was spite motivated by her imagined grievance against me.
"Woah, sister-in-law, what brought that on now?" I asked with some shock.
"Oh, I'm just very happy to see you again, stranger. Remember, I misses you as much as Ray does, just as I trust that he told you. Can't kinfolk kiss each other on the mouth, not just the forehead or cheek? Anyway, let's blow this place! We have a lot to do and discuss, brother-in-law. Thanks for lettin' us crash, by the way! You're the best!" Miriam told me as I got into my Ford Ranger and she followed hubby into their Chevy Blazer (this was part of a long-running debate in the family between Ford and Chevy lovers).
We got very hot and sweaty, at least considering the time of year (winter in this part of Nevada is not as cold as some other places). This gave Miriam a slight, sexy sheen to her fair, freckled skin, but made Ray and I look like pigs (at least to me). Anyway, it didn't take as long to get their stuff unloaded and unpacked as I thought, but apparently, they opted to travel light.
I was grateful, if puzzled, for this fact, as we all finished up and freshened up, too. It was time to do some serious talk over pizza and wings, and this meant picking up some pizza from Lazio's, a local Mom and Pop shop whose name meant nothing outside the area. It was so family-run that it didn't deliver, hence the carryout, but it had phenomenal pizza and buffalo wings. The biggest shock came when I headed to the liquor store afterward to get some booze and they went in as well.
"We liquidated most of our stuff, cashed it in to travel light and have more money, so while I need to earn something soon, I'm not strapped just yet. Paying rent would blow through it fast, though," Ray explained, while Miriam surprised me by grabbing some Captain Morgan.
"You like rum, eh? How long have you two been drinking behind the church's back?" I laughed as Ray shrugged and Miriam blushed a little.
"A few months now, when I realized that there was no way that Jesus just drank grape juice. If he's sinless and he drank actual wine, how could it be a sin? I pointed it out to Ray and he gave it serious study instead of dismissing it out of hand,...and the rest is history," Miriam answered with an awkward laugh.
"What she means is that's how the snowball started rolling down to Hell, not that I would want to go back. Nope. It's only forward motion from here. I don't regret anything yet, even with the loss of the parsonage and everything. Not even being homeless made it something regrettable. Let's just say that I've discovered a few other things that Miriam and I have in common, things that would actually piss Jesus and the Apostles off a bit," Ray continued filling in some gaps for me, if still somewhat vaguely.
"So, you two drink now. Do you...you know?" I made the gesture for smoking weed as we reached the counter to pay for the spirits, including my bourbon and Coke.