“Hi. Jim?”
“Yes.”
“This is Mike.”
“Mike? The old guy that used to show up at Camp Perry, come hell or high water?”
“Yeah, that Mike.”
“How the hell are ya?”
“Not bad, you still compete at Camp Perry?”
“Every year. Why, ya thinking about getting back in the game?”
“No. The reason I called was, I was wondering if you could send me some info on what’s new in long-range shooting. There’s a young girl that’s interested, and I’m teaching her.”
“Man! You gonna teach a young girl how to shoot? What happened to the ‘I just want to be left alone’?”
“It’s a long story. She found out that I was a sniper. She just kept coming over to my place and wouldn’t let me alone, so I figured I might as well teach her.”
“Like a stray dog?”
“Exactly.”
“Sure, I can send you some info. I have plenty. I also have some CDs, you have a computer?”
“No, but I’m sure her brother does.”
“Okay, I’ll box up what I have here and send it your way. Good luck.”
“Thanks. I’m thinking about taking her to Camp Perry next summer.”
“That’d be great! I’ll send you the dates next spring.”
“Okay, talk to you later.”
“Bye.”
The next day Mike went out to his workshop to build Cat a practice rifle, one that would be as realistic as possible—weight, balance, length of pull, etc. He had an action and a stock. The local machine shop turned down a piece of steel with a threaded end he could use for a barrel. Cat could use this to practice her trigger squeeze and breathing. Everything he had was for a right-handed shooter. Her being a southpaw would take a bit of getting used to. The basics were the same. He would let her use his .308 Winchester to start off with. He would build her a rifle later. Left-handed equipment had gotten more available in the last few years.
The people in town were starting to notice the difference Cat was making in Mike’s life. He was coming into town more often, not as grumpy. One said that they thought they heard him laugh. Another said they saw him smile.
*****
Cat was walking toward the diner when Judge Bean came up.
“If you have a minute, I’d like to talk to you. Can you stop by the office?”
“Sure, I’ll come over right now. I can stop and see Mom after.”
Cat followed Judge Bean over to the courthouse. After they were inside, Judge Bean pointed to a chair. “Have a seat.”
Cat sat down. “Pretty nice day.”
“Relax. As far as I know, you ain’t in trouble.”
“Good.”
“I wanted to let you know that the state is sending a DNR officer to fill in while Conrad is laid up. Conrad will be getting out of the hospital soon, but it will be awhile before he’ll be able to work full time.”
“Them slime balls did put the hurt on him.”
“Yes, they did. I got the letter from the state with the information on the new officer. He has been with the DNR for a little over a year. I called around. He is as I suspected—gung ho, goes by the book, and measures his success by how many arrests he makes. He does not take into account the human factor.”
“I take it he won’t be as nice to me as you guys have?”
“Or to the rest of the residents in the county. He’s young, hasn’t figured out that you can get more flies with honey than vinegar.”
“I had better do a good job covering my tracks.”
Judge Bean shook his head. “It’d be better you not make any tracks. Like I said, he measures his success by how many arrests and convictions he gets. It would put me in an awkward position. If I let you off with little punishment, he could send in a complaint to the state.”
“Okay, I’ll behave. What’s his name?”
“Officer Shot.”
“Is his first name Big or Hot?”
Judge Bean, doing his best not to laugh, said, “Cat!”
“Yes, Judge, I’ll behave.”
*****
Cat rode her bike into town to pick up some bait before heading over to Mike’s to do some fishing. When Cat came out of the bait shop and started to get back on her bike, Officer Shot walked up to her.
“May I see your fishing license?”
“I ain’t fishing.”
“You have a pole and bait. I want to see your license, now!”
“How do you know I ain’t going to a private pond?”
“I don’t care. You have the equipment. I want to see your license.”
“I’m going to a private pond, I don’t need a license. It’s on page 6, third paragraph down on the left side in the fishing regulation.” His first name must be Hot.
“Look, girly, show me your license.”
“I’m gonna report you for rape.”
“Rape, I didn’t rape you!”
“Well, you have the equipment, don’t you?”
“Oh, we have a smart-ass kid, huh?”
“No, we have an arrogant half-bright game warden. Give you a badge and a gun and you think you’re god. Creases so sharp in your uniform you could cut yourself. Boots so shiny, it’s a wonder you don’t blind yourself on a sunny day.”
Shot glared at her.
Cat thinking to herself, This oughta impress the judge. I’d better show him my license.
With Shot still staring at Cat, she handed her license to him. “There, now if you see me on state ground, you won’t have to ask me for it. As you can see, it has all the stamps.”
Shot looked it over and then handed it back to her. As he turned around, Cat said, “Have a nice day. I will.”
Officer
