Shots

It was a Sunday afternoon and I had had a rough week. I drove into town and decided that I was going to get myself a drink. It was about 8:00pm and I had no other prior commitments, so I could be here as long as I wanted. I walked in, ordered a drink from the pretty girl behind the counter, and sat down on a black barstool. After the girl handed me my drink (with her number on the napkin under the glass,) I decided to go play some pool with some other guys there. I asked politely if I could play and grabbed a stick. They agreed and started a new game. 

After about an hour of playing, I got tired and went back to the counter to sit down. I sat down with the intentions of talking to the girl behind the counter, but her shift had ended and she was replaced with a middle aged man that seemed to be drunk. I pulled out my phone and started reading through old texts and looking through old photos. My wife and three kids left me when they found out what I did for a living. That was the worst time of my entire life.

A man sat down next to me but I hardly noticed because I was stuck on all of the memories that came flooding in with the picture that I was looking at. After a while the guy sitting next to me and I started to talk. He noticed the picture and asked who it was. I explained who it was and that led to other conversations. We started talking about everything and anything. Hours went by, but it seemed like minutes. 

Soon we got to the topic of our professions. He said that everyone always said that he took good shots but that he didn’t feel like he did. He said that he was an amazing shooter when he was younger but that he lost his shot a few years back and things haven't been the same since. For once, I thought that someone actually understood what I was going through and I had a friend. I said that he would get the person in their scope but that he never could center it right. I tried to advise him to keep their head and shoulders squared and then to center their head slightly to the right (not many people know this trick and that is why they always miss. They think that you should center their head to the middle.) He thanked me and I told him that I could never seem to keep my arm still with the small ones. He told me that if you hold it with two hands, it really helps to steady your shot. I thanked the man and gave him my number as I got up to leave.

The next day, I get a call from an unfamiliar number and decide to ignore it. I went on through my day not even remembering the man from last night. While I was at the grocery store I got another call from the same number, but this time I decided to answer it. It was the man from the bar asking me if I would be interested in meeting him for lunch and exchanging more tips. I agreed and we set a time.

An hour later, I met the man at a restaurant downtown. We talked for several hours more about how to steady hands and center heads. I realized that this man could help my boss immensely. I offered for him to come to work with me the next day and meet my boss. I told him that I really thought that my boss would like his style, and could help him get some work. He told me that he would have to talk it over with his family first. That might be a problem.  As he walks away he says “by the way I don’t believe I ever told you my name, I’m sorry, it's Gabe, Gabe Domingo.”

“Nice to meet you Gabe, my name’s Trey Statler” I say with a laugh and we part ways.

The next day I got a call from Gabe. He was asking where we should meet because he did not know where I worked. I told him that he could just ride with me if he wanted. He agreed and told me his address. Ten minutes later I was sitting outside his house, waiting for him, when I started to think about what would happen if Gabe freaked out about what he got himself into. But Gabe wouldn’t do that, he said himself that he took shots just as I did. A few moments later, Gabe came out and got in the car.

We drove for about an hour in silence until Gabe finally said “this must be one heck of a place if it’s taking this long” as he turned and smiled at me. I smiled in return but there was this lingering feeling in the back of my mind that something was not right. When we finally got there I sat in the car thinking things over before finally deciding that it was time to go. I got out of my truck and started walking towards an old run down apartment building. I looked over at Gabe as we walked and saw him staring at the building as though it was something beautiful and magnificent. I didn’t get it. Why was he excited about the building instead of what was inside?

As we walked into the building I told Gabe to wait by the front door while I went and got my boss. When my boss and I started walking back down the stairs Gabe started talking about how he had a family and he would need a nice pay with minimal hours. He was going to blow it for himself if he didn’t stop talking about that family of his. All my boss did was nod. He only spoke to me, and I knew that. All I said about the job was that it was supposed to be private and that you had to be physically fit to do the job. According to Gabe, he was both of those things. We would have our first mission in three days. 

That Friday I met Gabe at his house at about 6:00am and started driving to our lookout place. As I was driving, I got that same feeling that something just wasn’t right. I tried to ignore the feeling because I personally thought that Gabe was a pretty solid guy. As my truck came to a halt Gabe said “I guess we’re here then,” as he lazily slipped out of the truck. He reached into the floor of the truck in the backseat and pulled out a small black case. “ That is a pretty small gun for this case, he must be a better shot than I thought” I thought as I too got out of the truck. I pulled out my case out of the bed of the truck. It looked gigantic compared to his. We both started setting up our own things without disturbing each other. As I closed my case he did so as well at the same time, and we both saw what the other was setting up. 

He had a camera… This was not going to be good. As Gabe saw my gun he gasped and started panicking as he started to pack up his camera. “This is not the shots that I was talking about!” he screamed. I don’t know what happened next. It was all a blur. The photographer sent both my boss and I to jail for murder and I never saw him again.