One Boy and His Gun

I knew Dad kept a loaded gun at the back of the coat cupboard in the hallway. He showed it to me once and made me promise never to touch it or show it to anyone.

“If a bullet from that gun hits someone, it will blow him into small pieces,” he explained. It was enough for me. Once or twice I swiped the coats aside and took a look; just making sure it was still there.

“What’s it for, Dad?” I asked.

“Anyone who threatens my family,” he said. “Just knowing it’s there makes me feel safe.”

And it made me feel safe too. And nervous. Living here on the border with one foot in and one foot out was a scary business, especially when I read the statements made by the 2 prime ministers who were our unfriendly neighbors.

“This is where we live,” Dad explained. He was an officer in a Peace Keeping Corps and one of his jobs was to make sure that there was peace. He wore a uniform with lots of brass on the shoulders and two rows of ribbons across his chest. I vowed to replace him when he retired and have 3 rows of ribbons on my chest. At least, that’s what I told my girlfriends.

Cross-border incidents were common. There were political groups on both sides who claimed land on the other side. Dad worked hard and often spent long periods on one side or the other. We used to tease him about his triple girl-friends, one at home and two away…

One night when Dad was away, we saw orange flashes of light on the horizon. Mother explained what these were. “A war has started. Both sides are shooting and bombing each other. What you see is heavy gunfire and explosions,” said Mom. “One of these days it will be right here. When that happens you must go to your hiding places.”

Mine was in the coat cupboard next to the gun. I didn’t touch it but I wondered if I had the guts to pick it up. Could I shoot one of the enemy? I shivered in fear. 

As mother had predicted, they arrived one night. 3am to be precise. The hour when normal people sleep. But not here. Not tonight. Tanks rumbled past out house, their heavy treads churning up the thin asphalt. Soldiers sticking up out of the turrets. I peeped at them from a corner of the window. They looked frightening. Men going to fight. Men prepared to die.

“Go now!” mother whispered loudly as she saw the vehicles slowing.

Inside the cupboard, all was in darkness. I pushed my way in between the coats and calmed my breathing. My left arm stroked the gun and bad thoughts, all starting with the words “What If”, raced through my mind. I could hear the soldiers talking and shouting to each other. I understood their language as well as I understood our language on this side of the border.

“Look inside that cupboard Corporal!”

“Yessir!”

Light flooded in as he opened the door. Could he see anything other than coats? Then it went dark again.

“Only coats in there, Sergeant!”

“Corporal, stand here and stop anyone coming in or leaving this house!”

“Yessir!”

Footsteps faded as they moved along in their search. I stood shaking at my escape. After a while I smelled cigarette smoke. My sentry was smoking! Taboo! Verboten!

I moved a coat slowly and carefully to try and see out. The man was standing about 10 feet in front of the house. I felt for the gun. I could shoot him easily. Or could I? Could I lift the gun and keep it still? Would the noise bring all the other soldiers to see what had happened? Would they shoot me, a 15-year-old boy?

Loud screams came from a house nearby and I managed to peep through the crack between the frame and the door. I wet myself when I saw what was happening. Soldiers were dragging our two-away neighbors out into the street. They stood over them as they lay on the ground. Then they pointed revolvers at them and shot them, one by one. I vomited all over one of Dad’s coats. This is what they will do to me if they find me. I hope Mom and sister are safe.  

I felt my body stop shivering, not altogether, but enough for me to gather myself and start thinking. I will shoot a soldier or as many as I can, I thought. The problem is that the noise from the gun will bring them to see what’s going on and that’ll be the end of me and my plan. If I shoot at the same time one of them shoots will they still hear me? I will try it.

Minutes later they came out of a house dragging their victim. An old man. Then they stood over him and prepared to shoot. I poked my gun through a crack in the door. I lifted the rifle and aimed it at the sentry standing in front of me. When I saw the soldiers pointing their pistols downwards at the poor guy on the ground I tried to see the movements of their hands and when I saw a hand tightening, I pulled the trigger. The recoil from the rifle smashed into my chest and hurled me backward inside the cupboard, disturbing the coats.

I saw the man’s body fly forward into the street. I couldn’t see the wound, but I saw him move a few times and then lay still.

A soldier standing guard came rushing over to see what had happened to his mate. I lifted the gum, aimed it and pulled the trigger again. This time I saw a black smudge appear on his chest. Then the black turned red. I saw a rough circle outline growing on his chest.

A tank came rolling up and four men jumped out and started yelling and shouting. No one came out to answer them and they were too scared to enter the houses. Two bodies were enough. The tank revved its engine and crawled off, spitting globs of mud and asphalt behind it.

It turned at the bottom of the street and as it disappeared Mom and sister came running out of a house. I dropped the gun and ran out to embrace them.

Mission completed.