Welcome to SeniorVu’s daily ‘flash fiction’, with the continuing saga of Mary Lu at the Vu. Mary Lu is a 78-year old fictitious resident of a fictitious senior living community called Hickory Hills View (a.k.a. The Vu). Every night, while her husband Bobby (he’s fictitious too) sleeps next to her, she sends her sister Carolyn (yup, fictitious) an entertaining email updating her on the day. These are her stories. We hope they become as addictive as your morning cup of coffee.
Disclaimer: Even though these stories may sound familiar to your community, the story, all names, characters, and incidents portrayed in this series are fictitious. No identification with actual persons (living or deceased), places, buildings, and products is intended or should be inferred.
I’m learning a lot about guns.
Getting one, even for personal protection — my only reason for wanting one — is complicated. The gun I want in case of a Doug Bennett emergency comes fraught with other issues.
“What’ll you do when the grandkids come?” Bobby grilled me at breakfast.
“Put it in the safe down in The Vu’s main office,” I told him. “Bullets stored separately.”
(I’d thought that one over already.)
“It’ll need cleaning now and then,” he said. “What’ll you do?”
“Let you clean it,” I said. “Because I bet you learned how in the service.”
“What will you do when you lose your mind?”
At our age, he explained, it’s not unusual to wake up with your head a bit foggy. (He’s right about that). He didn’t to want to catch a bullet on the way back from a 3 a.m. bathroom visit because I thought he was a prowler.
“You could, um, take the gun with you to pee,” I said.
He just sighed and rolled his eyes.
We were supposed to go gun shopping today. Instead, he took me to a shooting range out by the airport. He wants me to know what I’m getting myself into. We rented a small Smith & Wesson and ear protectors and we headed in.
Bobby showed me how to hold it, using both hands. He guided me into the proper stance. And he warned me that there’d be a little kickback when I fired. Then he stepped back so I could take aim at a big piece of paper with a human outline.
“Watch me blow this dude to kingdom come,” I said.
I coiled my fingers around that trigger, focused on the target and…
Shooting a gun is hard, C. Way harder than it looks on “NCIS.”
That kickback knocked me flat on my backside. The gun itself hit me in the face. I have a big red mark near my eye. It looks like I was in a fight.
“Did I get him?” I said, looking up from the floor.
Bobby reeled in the target. It remained untouched.
“You didn’t blow him to kingdom come,” Bobby said. “I doubt you even hurt his feelings.”
We went home and put ice on my face.
Like I said, I’m learning.
P.S. To catch up on all of my previous Mary Lu at The Vu posts, click here to go back to Day 1.