sure have some smart-ass kids around here.”
Conrad asked, “How so?”
“I just asked that girl out there for her fishing license. She started quoting fishing regs to me, page and paragraph.”
Judge Bean responded, “That would be Cat. When she’s around, we don’t need to look anything up. We just ask her.”
“She said she wasn’t fishing. I told her she had the equipment.”
“Then what?”
“She said she was going to report me for rape because I had the equipment!” Shot was still steaming as he left.
Conrad and Judge Bean held their laughter until Shot got outside.
Judge Bean said, “Report him for rape. I guess we don’t have to worry about her. This might get interesting.”
Conrad responded, “I’m gonna have to be careful not to tear any stitches from laughing so hard. Almost feel sorry for Shot, but on second thought, nah.”
That story spread through the town faster than a forest fire on a windy day. Betty heard the story more than once while she was working at the diner that day.
*****
Cat was still mad as a wet hen when she got to Mike’s. She told him about running into Officer Shot.
Mike listened to the whole story then burst out laughing. “You told him you were going to report him for rape ’cause he had the equipment?” He was laughing so hard he had tears in his eyes. He hadn’t laughed like that for years.
Cat didn’t think it was that funny. “I’m gonna see if the fish are biting.”
Mike was still bent over from laughing. “Okay, go right ahead.”
Cat went back to the pond. It wasn’t long before she came back with a catfish, five nice bluegills, and a bass. She cleaned them, put them in a bowl of salt water, and set it in the refrigerator. Fishing or hunting always calmed her.
“There, that should make you a nice meal.”
“You gonna fry ’em up for me?”
“Oh, I suppose.”
“Well, come over here. I wanna check something out.” Mike handed her his Winchester. “Hold this. I want to see how it fits you.”
Cat was all smiles as she took a hold of it. It was a bit heaver and longer than her Rossi.
As Mike looked at her stance, he said, “Line up on something like the saltshaker on the stove.” The stock could be a little shorter, but this would have to do for now.” He took some measurements and wrote them down.
Cat handed the rifle back to Mike. “You gonna let me shoot this?”
“I know you’re a southpaw, and this is for right-handed shooters, but we have to work with what I have. When do you want to start your lessons?”
“Yesterday.”
“I guess we can start now.” Mike cleared off the kitchen table then sat a couple of sandbags on it. He grabbed a target and taped it on the wall. Cat watched him in disbelief. Mike caught her out of the corner of his eye and started laughing.
“No, you’re not gonna blow holes in my walls. You are going to start off with dry firing.”
“Dry firing?”
“Yes, I want to see how your trigger squeeze and breathing are.”
“Why do I have to do that? I know all about trigger squeeze and breathing control.”
“If you already know, why you want me to teach you? Now, you gonna listen, or you wanna get a different coach?”
Cat looked toward the floor, knowing that she had better start listening if she wanted Mike to teach her. “Sorry, I’ll be all ears.”
Mike placed his rifle on the sandbags, having Cat sit in a chair behind the rifle. She put the stock up to her shoulder. He looked at her stance, moving her elbow closer to the rifle. “Looks pretty good. Now, where your cheek touches the stock is the spot weld. Every time you put the rifle to your shoulder, it has to be the same. This is important. The rifle needs to be an extension of your body.”
“Like the rifle and I are one?”
“Yes. Later I will have you close your eyes and shoulder the rifle. It should be right where it needs be. No adjustments necessary.”
“This is going to take a lot of work.”
“Yes, it will. Now, let’s check your trigger squeeze.” Mike put a snap cap in the chamber and closed the bolt. “Now line up on the bull’s-eye, take a breath, let some out till you feel comfortable, and squeeze.”
Cat squeezed the trigger. The rifle moved just a little. After a few more times Mike set a dime on edge on the barrel. “Now try it and see if the dime stays there.”
Cat squeezed the trigger ever so slowly. The dime fell off. “Ain’t no way.”
Mike had her get up. He put the dime back on the barrel, sat down, and squeezed the trigger. The dime was still sitting there.
Cat looked at Mike. “Will I be able to do that?”
“With enough practice.”
“Well, I had better get home.”
“Okay. Be back tomorrow to fry those fish?”
“And do some more practicing.”
After Cat left, Mike looked over the material that Jim had sent him. A lot of advances have been made in long-range shooting, especially optics. Mike liked Cat being around; she was like a granddaughter he never had, plus her cooking was a lot better than TV dinners.
After Cat put her bike away, she walked into the house all excited. “Mom, Dad, guess what? Mike is going to teach me how to shoot!”
Betty replied, “Teach you how to shoot, don’t you already know how?”
“No, I mean long-range shooting, a thousand yards.”
Betty, not having a clue what Cat was talking about, replied, “That’s nice of Mike.”
Dave said, “He’s a brave man.”
“Well, supper’s about ready. Cat, after you wash up, would you set the table.”
“Sure, Mom.”
After supper, Cat went to bed thinking how great it was moving down here.
*****
Officer Shot was always trying to nail Cat for something. This was starting to irritate her. One night she decided to keep him busy. Grabbing
