"	Gene's Story or How I Gained a Cousin A novel by Karen Lockhart Copyright 2016

CHAPTER 40

It seemed the doorbell and ending Kevin's phone call happened at the same time. I opened the door and Kevin came in, gave me a quick peck on the cheek, and said 'hello' to Tina and Ginny.

“Where were you when you called, at my driveway? What if I had said 'no'?”

Kevin looked at me sheepishly, “I was in my truck. But I thought someone would let me in.”

“Tell me what really went down last night. My information was delivered by a hysterical female. Ellen, you go first.”

“Morales forced open my door, and started to yell at Tina. It looked like this time Tina was going to get hit. I calmed him down while Ginny called the Swampscott Police.”

“Bullshit ! Ellen grabbed a gun and held Daddy at gun point. He tried to call her bluff, but she wasn't bluffing. He knew Ellen would shoot him ! The cops came at this time and shooed him away,” Tina laughed. “As they left, one cop started to lecture Ellen on gun safety.”

Kevin turned and looked at me, “Calmed him down? Sounds like you were ready to calm him down permanently.”

My face turned bright red, “I target shoot. Vinnie made a good target.”

That made Kevin chuckle, “Next time I need help, I'm calling you, not the cops.”

“Why don't I stay overnight? If Tina's father drives by and sees my truck, he'll probably keep right on going.”

Ginny jumped in. “He'll keep on going because he knows Dirty Harriet is still here. Not because of you.”

“I'm staying anyway,” Kevin said a little childishly. “This way, there's a man here.”

I looked at Ginny, she looked at me, and we broke out laughing.

“What's so funny?” asked Tina, “I think that's a great idea.”

Kevin looked at us, “She doesn't know?”

We both shook our heads 'no'.

“Doesn't know what?” Tina interjected.

“Nothing important,” I said. “Kevin and Ginny have shared a bed before, that's all.”

“Well, hell, that's no secret, everybody knows that.”

“Speaking of bed, it's after 11pm. Ginny and I have to hit the sack, 5.30 comes up fast. Kevin, good luck finding a place to sleep.” I said that with a grin.

I brushed my teeth and slid under the blankets, and turned off the light.

About 30 minutes later, I felt someone in bed with me.

“It's only me.” Kevin said.

“Okay, 'it's only me'. If I get poked by anything, It gets shot off!”

He got out of my bed.

Wednesday dawned cold and sunny. Nice crisp Fall weather; this is why I love New England.

About lunch time, I reminded Ginny that Tina was moving in to her apartment that day, and she should give her a phone call, to check on how things were going. Apparently, things went smoothly, with no Vinnie sightings. As a thank-you, Tina wanted to buy us dinner at the big restaurant next door.

Dinner was very nice, the seafood was fresh, the baked, stuffed haddock was wonderful, and the popovers were great.

Ginny and I promised to see Tina's apartment the following day after we came back from the gun range. Tina said why didn't we eat there? She suggested clam chowder and lobster salad rolls for dinner. Ginny said that was great, and we'll pick up some wine to go with the lobster.

When we got home, I opened up the gun safe and put four boxes of .45 ammo and two hundred rounds of .22 long rifle ammo in my ammo box.

I grabbed the range bag and put it on the bed, storing the Browning .22 and the Smith and Wesson .45 in the bag along with two sets of sound-deadening earphones in the bag's partitions. This would save time in the morning.

Thursday work flew, and in no time we locked up and headed for the range. I think Ginny was excited, but tried not to show it.

We pulled into the range's parking lot after a fifteen minute drive. Ginny looked around at the building and the lot, wrinkled her nose and said the place looked like a dump.

I got my things, told her to grab the targets, and walked over to the key card lock's slot. I ran my card through, heard a loud click, and pushed the door open. Lights came on revealing a white painted, spotless fifty foot handgun range.

Ginny's jaw dropped as she looked around, “Wow! What a difference, from dump to spotless.”

“We wanted the place to look uninhabited, and run down, less chance of a break-in.”

“You succeeded,” she said.

I spent the next fifteen minutes telling her the range safety rules, and handed her a set of headphones and safety glasses.

“Wear these at all times, If someone else were here, they'd be shooting when you weren't and particles fly around.

I took the two guns from the range bag and went over them with Ginny. Although the Smith was bigger, it was similar to her little .25, while the Browning was a little more complicated with the sight.

I loaded the magazines for the .22, turned on the hologram red dot sight and fired a magazine at the target set at twenty-five feet. Happily all ten went into the 10 ring.

I ejected the empty magazine, and reloaded. Ginny picked it up and duplicated my score.

“Nice gun,” she said. ”Love that sight.”

“Come clean, where did you learn to shoot?”

“I was in the JROTC in high school, remember? I excelled at pistol shooting. We used the Ruger Mark II pistol. I like that Browning better.”

I picked up the big Smith and Wesson 1911. “Did you shoot anything bigger, like a .45?”

Ginny shook her head no.

“Well then you have a treat coming up.” With that, I loaded a mag with five rounds, drew back the slide, with that snick-snick that Vinnie liked so much. I then turned and quickly fired five shots into the 9 ring or better.

“Phew, you weren't bluffing with Morales the other night were you?”

“Have you shot or handled one of these before?” I asked. “If you haven't pay close attention. This is a single action, eight shot, auto loading pistol that will fire without a ammo magazine in the gun. Most of the new double action pistols won't fire without a magazine, so people get careless. This gun also has a grip safety; if your grip on the gun is off center, or loose the pistol won't fire. Now, why don't you load five rounds into the magazine and try it out.”

Ginny loaded the gun, racked the slide (snick-snick) and fired a shot at the target beside mine. Miss! She tried again, miss! She engaged the safety, and asked what she was doing wrong.

I said to relax her little finger and tighten her left hand on the gun.

Bang, 7 ring, Bang, 8 ring, Bang bulls eye!

“Nice shooting. The grip is very important with these big guns, you have small hands, so the gun shifts around.”

I let her continue shooting the .45 while I practiced with the Browning at the fifty foot distance.

In no time we had used up the ammo I brought along, and it was time to go.

To be continued

Many thanks to Bronwen Welsh for her help in correcting typos and punctuation