Saturday

I decided

It was time to fire the gun

I drove up the mountain 

with the dog and the old wooden rifle

in the winter rain

The flags at the ammo store

were hung high and pulled taught

hung square and kept clean

I brought my girlfriend's boy

because he had never fired a gun

and I was going to teach him

because we would bond

and he would never forget it

We left with 200 bullets

and a brochure about forming

the State of Jefferson, our state

the freest State in the union

Don't tell anyone 

he was only supposed to sell me 100

but the policy is not for local boys

we get to buy 200 if we want

The boy and I drove up the mountain 

up where all the towns end

we drove down a dirt road

full of pond size puddles

the kind of road that makes you love your truck

We parked next to a swollen creek

and hiked in with the gun and the dog

and followed a wide mud trail into the woods

the rain kept falling laced with the heavy

super drops that form on pine branches

The boy put some holes in his first target

and treated the gun properly

just like I taught him back at the house

the dog got so agitated at the gunfire

she jumped up and bit the barrel

after I squeezed off a round

I had the safety on, but just barely

When a boy fires a gun for the first time

his face lights up with the realization

of the initiation, the snap, the kick

the brutal power and the pin point violence

an old wooden rifle delivers

We high-fived

because firing a gun well

in the pouring rain

matters

like starting a fire

like loving a beautiful woman

and her young son

well