I remember the first time I ever saw a gun.

I couldn’t have been more the six years old, I was at and my grandparent’s house. My uncle lives with them. I was in his room, drawing, with a pen that was low on ink. I think that is the other reason I remember it so vividly.

The frustration.
Going to my parent’s to help me find a new one.
Grandpa’s lighter trick of heating the pen tip to get the ink moving again.
The astonishment.
Not being aloud to try it myself.
The frustration.

I have cautious parents.

I went back into the room, only the desk light was on.
It was dark in the rest on the room.
I liked it that way, calm.

I remember the need for a red pen to finish what I was drawing, I can’t remember what it was, but I definitely remember it needing red.
I was at a desk so I looked through all the drawers. Nothing.

I looked through the nightstand. Nothing.

The dresser.
Nothing.

Closet.

There it was, black, deadly. It was sitting on top of its case, I found this out when my uncle officially showed it to me. It hadn’t changed. I was fifteen. I fired it. Three inches from bullseye. “Pretty good, for a rook.” He was a navy man. Rifles. Cannons.

I looked at it for awhile. Knowing of its potential.
My uncle took it out to the firing range and forgot to put it back in the case. The range was in the backyard, the house was in middle of the desert.

He forgot to put it away only one time before, when we were coming over. My dad saw it first and told him to put it away.
My uncle, said, “Oh, shit.” And took it to his room.
I didn’t see it that time. I was three. Cookies. Smiles.

I was sitting on the floor, on my knees, hands on the carpet, leaned forward, looking, wondering if I should touch it.
So I did.
I lifted my right hand and touched the barrel with two fingers.

Cold.

I wasn’t afraid, not even of being caught. I had no way of explaining my emotions at the time. I do now.

Blissful uneasiness.

Wide eyed.
A smirk.
A little hard to breath.
My left hand clutching the carpet.

And then a quick shock going down my spine.
I sat up straight. I could feel it in all my digits.
I had to hurry.
This never happened.
Put everything the way you found it.

Ask for red.