The Gun and the Birdhouse

The smell of rotting leaves was getting to me, and there was some dumb ant crawling over my shoe. But I was trying to be patient like the Indians I'd been reading about in school. You know, when they're waiting to jump out on their enemy. My cousin Brian had just turned eleven. He and I were playing cowboys and Indians and I had just shot him with my new Super-Soaker 400 water gun. My dad gave it to me last week and I had practiced every day.

Brian screamed like I'd really shot him. Then he dropped to the ground and lay there screaming at the top of his lungs. He did a really great job of dying! He lurched and kicked and rolled his eyes back into his head and I swear, I could see all the way down his throat to his ugly stomach. It really was a pitiful sight! But man, could he scream!

"Eric! he'd shouted, "I'm gonna kill you! Ahhrgg, you big bully! I'm gonna get you!

It was a good thing Mom and Dad and Uncle Fred and Aunt Carol had gone to the store or I'd have been in real trouble. About that time, I took off and found this great hiding spot behind a big rhododendron bush. Now there was a whole bunch of ants crawling on both my shoes, I had to get out of here soon. What was taking Brian so long? Mad as he was, he should have been tearing around to this side of the house by now.

Down by my foot I noticed a large earthworm crawling across a dead leaf. It was slowly making its way toward my shoe. I stared at the slimy thing and then, almost as if it could feel my eyes, it stopped. Suddenly, it slithered back down its hole, leaving small globs of slime on the leaf. Then I heard them: sneaky quiet footsteps. My enemy had returned!

Hunching down a little more, I stared between the branches in front of me. I couldn't see him. Where was that little monster? Crunch, crunch, sniff, sniff, then shuffle, thud. There! I caught a brief flash of blue jeans and yellow shirt just six or seven feet left of me. I nearly stopped breathing. The muscles in my legs bunched up and my feet twitched once, then I leaped straight out of the bush!

"Yeeeeiiiiii! I screamed at the top of my lungs and landed on both feet right in front of him! Waving my Super-Soaker over my head, I brought it smoothly up to my shoulder, finger ready to fire super blasts of water when my eyes nearly bugged out of my head!

"You are dead meat, Eric, said Brian with tremendous calm. He was waving the ugly end of a rifle at me. Sunlight glinted off the blue-black barrel of the 22-caliber rifle pointed straight at my stomach. I couldn't breathe and my knees kept bumping into each other. There was a large drop of sweat rolling down my back and my stomach felt like I'd swallowed a rock. I tried to talk, but no sound came out. I dropped my Super-Soaker and it hit my foot. I still couldn't breathe. Carefully I raised my hands over my head and waited. He just stood there staring at me for what seemed like forever and I felt my fingers going numb.

Finally: "YOU ARE A BIG BULLY! he screamed, shoving the gun at me.

"You picked on me and picked on me and wouldn't even give me a chance! You don't play fair. I should shoot you! Then, maybe you'd know how I feel!

"Come on now, Brian¦. I was trying to sound calm, but my voice squeaked.

"We're just playing a dumb game. I know you got a little upset, but you always get upset. Every time you come over to play you get upset about something. How was I supposed to know this time was any different? Come on¦put the gun down before you do something you might regret. Like shoot me, I thought.

"NO! You get down on your knees and I want you to swear. Swear you will be fair and promise that for the rest of your life, you'll never be a bully again!

Kicking my Super-Soaker away, I fell to my knees.
"Okay. What do you want me to say? I squeaked.

"Repeat after me. I, Eric Boston, promise and do swear.

"I, Eric Boston, promise and do swear¦

"to be honest, fair and nice¦

"to be honest, fair and nice¦

"to all my family, Mom and Dad, aunts and uncles and especially to my younger cousin, Brian¦

"to all my family, Mom and dad, aunts and uncles and especially to my younger cousin, Brian¦

"Forever and ever, on penalty of death, he finished up.

"Forever and ever, on penalty of death. We stared at each other over the barrel of the rifle. As Brian began lowering the gun a huge grin smeared itself across his face.

"I got you! He yelled, and stomped the ground. "The gun is empty! Ha! Ha! You looked so silly, like a scared little girl! Ha! Ha! And you promised!

Slowly I stood up. I could feel the anger rising inside me. My face began to heat up and my hands started shaking. I could already feel his skinny neck snapping in my grip! How could that little monster do something like this? I'd never been unfair or mean to anybody! I started for him, then stopped. A cold light went on in my mind. Maybe, just maybe, that's how he sees me¦as a bully. I thought we were just having fun. I couldn't really be a bully, could I? But what if I was? I just stood there listening to his squeals of laughter. Doubt twisted my guts like a meat grinder chews up hamburger.

Enough! I took a deep breath and grabbed for the gun. It felt cold and evil in my hands. Funny, it never felt that way when Dad and I went hunting for wild rabbits.

"You little fool! I yelled at him. "Don't you know you could have killed me? Do you really know if this gun is empty? I bet you just guessed!

"No way! I looked and there ain't any bullets in it! Brian screamed at me.

"Oh yeah? Turning, I pointed the gun at the broken old birdhouse in the last tree along the fence and squeezed the trigger. Crack! The birdhouse fell. Brian's face went completely white.

"Did you look to see if a bullet had already been chambered? You don't mess with real guns! EVER! I screamed back at him. Brian started shaking all over and his lips pulled back from his teeth in an ugly grimace. I could see the white all the way around his eyeballs. Suddenly, he clamped his hands over his mouth and I thought he was gonna get sick. I left him standing there and stomped into the house.

In the kitchen I grabbed a towel and tried clean off the gun before I put it back. Putting it away in the gun cabinet, I decided I really needed to talk to Brian. I didn't stomp quite as hard when I headed for the back porch. Brian was sitting on the top step crying. I sat down beside him and waited. I couldn't think of anything to say. His sniffing was driving me nuts. I finally handed him my favorite handkerchief and wanted to take it back the moment I saw him sniveling into it.

Finally he said: "Eric, I'm sorry. I didn't really want to hurt you. I only wanted to scare you a little.

"Well, Brian, you certainly did that . I've been thinking, and well, I guess I made a promise to you and well¦I guess I'll try to keep it. Now it was Brian's turn for his eyes to bug out.

"But that doesn't mean I'm gonna be a sissy and you can push me around. It just means I'll give it a try. First, we have to think of something to tell my Dad about the rifle. He is gonna notice it's been fired and he'll be royally ticked off. Brian nodded his head slowly.

"Well, we could tell him I took a practice shot at the birdhouse.

"No way, Brian! I said. At that point I decided he wasn't such a bad kid, just kinda dumb. Maybe I could get him to help me Super-Soak his sister when she gets back from the store with our folks.

COPYRIGHT 2005