This is a bit from my published novel, in paperback:
Carlos shrugged indifference, patted Indy the elephant on the side of her head, and said, “Well that’s enough of this. I suppose it’s time you took over the rifles from Mervyn. It’s called The Star Shoot. Because you shoot out a star. You can’t miss it.”
Joe left and walked down the aisle of games until he found it. “I’m Joe.”
They shook hands. Mervyn looked him up and down. “Mervyn, here. You’re the new gun guy? What do you know of guns?”
“I just know. I’m even pretty good at clay pigeons.” Joe looked at the medals on Mervyn’s beret. “Vietnam?”
“Yep. I served. And what do I get? It’d be better if I was a coward. Can you believe Carter gets his pansy lily peanut in the White House and he pardons the draft dodgers? Now nobody will have any reason to be brave anymore. That’s the last war we’ll ever have. What else is a Democrat going to do to ruin this country?”
Joe didn’t care. “He did?”
“He just did. That donkey is going to ruin the military if he has his way. You ruin the military and you ruin the Country. Next year we’ll all be speaking Russian to stay alive.”
“Oh, I didn’t know.
“Don’t you get the news?”
Joe looked around at the carnival, wondering how he would get the news. He shrugged. “But nothing really happens. Does it?”
Mervyn asked again, “What do you know of guns?”
“Grew up on a farm. Once blew the head off a skunk.”
“Oh s**t. That sounds cool.”
Joe frowned. “No. They couldn’t test it for rabies without a head. Never blow the head off a crazed animal. They can’t test it then.”
“So you shot a skunk and some clay pigeons. Is that all you know about guns? Did you ever learn gun safety?”
Joe nodded. “Dad told me. And then they told me again at church. And then again at Boy Scout camp. I went one year.”
Mervyn looked suspicious. “Only one? How’d you get kicked out of Boy Scouts?”
“I was only in it one year. It was too much to drive me into town. And then I was a member of the Baptist Gun Club.”
“They do that?”
“Our church did. Might as well. Everybody owned one anyway. Nurse Trina said it was time we showed them off if they cost so much. So she started the gun club after she got a big one for Christmas. It wasn’t fair. She was also in the woman’s club. A man should have begun it. You know? Sure.” Joe turned red, suddenly embarrassed that he was talking to a stranger about Nurse Trina and church. So he asked, “Did you shoot a lot in Vietnam?”
Mervyn looked away and fussed with the prizes. “I don’t talk about that.”
Joe asked, “Did you lose a lot of friends?”
“I lost my wife. That was enough.”
“She was shot in the war?”
“No bozo. She left me after I came back. She said I’d changed. She changed. The world had changed. Well crap, when don’t it? Everything always changes all the time. So I had changed. So what.” Mervyn looked hard at Joe. “You ask too many questions for a nobody. Just make sure the rifles stay on this side of the counter. Make sure the chain stays through the handles so nobody can take one and go on a mad shooting spree through this place.”
“Nobody would do that.”
Mervyn glared. “You’d be surprised what people do when they finish their six pack. Some go pansy. Some go crazy. Some like to shoot everybody dead.”
Joe argued with him. “It seems mostly people in these parts just fall out of their fishin’ boats and drown.”
Mervyn sardonically looked around as if he might see a fishing boat. Then he gave Joe a dirty look and left. He went to open a game where milk cans were knocked over with a soft ball.
Look at it at Amazon (and read the blurb!)!
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