The Landlord

Chapter 56

Chapter 56

Reasons why I dreaded Thursday:

1. I didn't want to deal with my emotions

2. I didn't know anything about hunting.

3. I didn't want to know anything about hunting

4. I hate anything and everything camo

However, none of those things mattered when Thursday morning arrived. Hell, Blake didn't seem to care that I didn't have a clue about hunting. He was just happy that I was willing to come along – and get up extra early too. His casual attitude helped me ignore my uneasy emotions too. Plus, Blake was willing to teach me what I needed to know.

But there was one thing I could not get over: the downright hideous camo clothing. There was nothing okay about the gaudy brown collage of bark and leaves. And when I arrived at his house, that's all he was wearing! Camo boots, camo pants, camo jacket, and camo cap. Unlike him, I was wearing jeans, a sweater under my nylon jacket, and polka-dotted rain boots that matched my beanie. Nobody said I couldn't look good while hunting. Or while attending Blake's hunting-101 course first.

Blake did his best teaching me everything before we left. If the obsessive-level of camo didn't give away how serious of a hunter he was, his preparedness did. It was cute to be honest, how serious he was about hunting. He showed me his gear, the deer calls, and his shotguns.

Not gonna lie, most of it went in one ear and out the other. Until we did some hands-on practice.

We walked far into the woods behind his house. Our surroundings were lit in a blue hue thanks to the sun still hiding below the horizon. When we reached an area less dense with grass patches separating the trees, Blake pointed out several wooden targets. They were nailed to different trees in the distance. Way in the distance.

"You remember I've never shot a gun before right?" I scoffed.

"Trust me, if you do it right, the distance won't matter." Blake offered me one of the two shotguns he brought with us. "This is a 20-gauge. It will be easier for you to start with."

When I grabbed the gun, I nearly dropped the damn thing and had to tighten my arm. Jesus. I did not think it would be that heavy!

He spoke with amusement in his voice. "You'll get use to the weight. Now, here is a shell. Remember. The yellow ones are only for a 20-gauge," he said, handing it to me. "Try and load it like I showed you before."

My hands were full and awkward. I propped the gun down against my leg and bent down, looking for a lever. Wait, did this one have a lever? I couldn't fucking remember; I tried paying attention before but it was difficult.

Facing me and watching me struggle, he couldn't help but chuckle. "Here, I'll walk you through it. Hold the gun with both hands – and hold it comfortably," he said, repositioning the gun back in my hands. "Now, slide your right hand up to the lever until it clicks open."

Seeing the lever, I did as he said. It caused the barrel to snap down and open, allowing me to slide the shell in. Because of the weight, I looked pretty awkward snapping it back into place.

"Now, next you will rack it, raise the gun, aim it towards the target. Do not take off the safety though. Do you remember where the safety is?"

I looked down at the gun. "It's this switch on the side."

"Yup. Always check that it's on until you are ready to shoot. Now, see that target? I want you to aim like I showed you." Then, with the other gun, he turned and aimed it towards the target for demonstration. "Keep the stock back and press the butt of the gun into your shoulder like I'm doing."