Court didn’t like the gun. It felt heavy and awkward in his grip, deadly even when unloaded. He didn’t want anything to do with it. Let Ronnie unload it and wipe it down. Let Ronnie tuck it into a holster. It was Ronnie’s toy, not Court’s.
For a long time, the weapon stayed hidden on the top shelf of the living room coat closet, way in the back out of reach. It didn’t cross his mind again until after Jeanie was gone and Ronnie had retrieved it, still wrapped in oiled cloth, as heavy and as deadly as it had been when they bought it.
“Carry this,” Ronnie had said.
Court remembered protesting. “I don’t want to.”