“What’s up, son? You look like you jumped into a pool of lemonade and come up with a mouth full of castor oil. Never seen you so glum. Not bored, are you?”
“I guess so,” Owen said with a shrug.
“Well, not much happ’nin round here. What say we head on down the back paddock and fire off a few rounds?”
Owen hadn’t heard the term ‘fire off a few rounds’ before and said so.
The old man clapped him on the shoulder, cackling with laughter. “Son, you sure got a lotta learnin’ to do if we’re gonna turn you into a country boy. Didn’t they teach you anything at that city slicker school you went to?”
“I guess not.”
“Come on then. Time we got you some ed’cation, country style.”
Pa led Owen to the shed and took something wrapped in a greasy old blanket back to the ute. Returning to the shed, he stood for a moment and looked around, seemingly lost in thought.
“Now, where did I hide ’em this time?” he muttered.
“Hide what, Pa?” Owen asked.
“Bullets, son, bullets! I hides ’em in diff’rent places all the time, so’s no bugger knows where to find ’em. Trouble is, I hides ’em so well, sometimes, I can’t find ’em meself!” He cackled with laughter again.
He rummaged around; on shelves, opening boxes, moving stuff around until finally he picked up a box. “Here’s the buggers. Now then, you ready for some learnin’, son?”
“Sure thing, Pa!”
Owen wondered why his Pa was like two different people. Sometimes Pa spoke normally, but other times Pa changed; the way he spoke sounded so different. He said funny words and some bad ones too. Owen liked this Pa much better. He decided he wanted to talk the way Pa did so he would listen and learn.
Down by the river, Pa set up some cans on fence posts and shot them, one by one. The noise of the gun had frightened Owen at first, but after Pa had fired it a few times, Owen didn’t jump any more. In fact he was having lots of fun. He loved the ‘zing’ as the cans flipped into the air one by one.
When the cans had been set on the posts again, Pa had handed Owen the gun. “Your turn.”
Owen tentatively took the gun from his Pa’s hands. “Will you really let me shoot it?”
“Yes, but you gotta promise you won’t tell your mother. Ladies don’t like guns and she’ll only get wild. Best we keep it to ourselves. So, do ya promise?”
“I promise, Pa.”
Owen held the gun and pointed it toward one of the cans.
“Hold up a sec, lad. You wouldn’t hit the broad side of a barn, waving it around like that. Let me.” Pa took the gun from Owen.
“Firstly, you gotta stand with your feet a little ways apart so that you’re balanced.”
Owen looked down at his feet, shuffled them apart. “Like this?”
“Yup, that’ll do ya. Now this curved bit rests against your shoulder, here.” He positioned the gun so that it nestled into Owen’s shoulder.
“Your left hand, like so.” He took Owen’s hand and placed it on the hand grip.
“Now, your right hand is your firing hand, so that’s the one you pull the trigger with, but not yet. Feel this bit? That’s the trigger guard. You keep your hand on the outside of that till you’re gonna shoot. OK?”
Owen nodded.
“OK, now you’re looking good, Owen. What I want you to do now is to look down the barrel at the can over there and line up this little jigger on the end of the gun here with this notch here.”
Owen looked down the barrel where Pa was indicating.
“When you think you’ve got it lined up, you carefully move your index finger of your right hand on to the trigger, take a breath, let a little bit out and then hold your breath as you squeeze the trigger.”
Owen held his breath and squeezed the trigger.
Click!
“Ah shit, we’re out of bullets. Sorry Owen. Should’a realized.”
Owen watched as his Pa took out the empty magazine and slotted another in its place. When he finished loading he handed the gun back. “Remember what I told you?”
“Yes, Pa. I think so.” He stood and held the gun like Pa had showed him. He looked down the barrel, squinting one eye closed as he did so, taking careful aim.
“Remember your breathing, Owen.”
He took a breath, held it and squeezed the trigger. ‘Zing’, the can disappeared from view.
“Holy snappin’ duck shit! You hit the bastard, Owen. Your very first shot and you hit it!”
“I hit it, Pa, I HIT IT!” Owen said as his Pa took the gun from him.
A cackle of laughter erupted from the old man. “Well ain’t that just the duck’s nuts!”
They spent the next few hours shooting cans until their supply of ammunition was exhausted. Pa retrieved the cans and they sat together on the tail gate of the ute drinking lemonade. Owen listened, fascinated as Pa talked about guns and shooting.
“Can we shoot some more tomorrow, Pa?”
“I guess so, son. But we have to be careful your mother doesn’t find out or she’ll chew my ear off for teaching you. Remember you promised you wouldn’t tell her, and you have to keep that promise if you want to go shooting again. D’ya hear me?”
“Yes, Pa. I understand. I promise I won’t tell Mum.”
“That’s good. Oh and don’t go blabbing your mouth to your mates at school, either, or you can bet your left knacker that someone will tell someone else and next thing your mother is chewing my ear off.”
“I promise I won’t tell anybody at all.”
Owen went to bed that night happier than he’d been in ages. He couldn’t believe his Pa was actually teaching him to shoot.
#
“Did you ever kill anyone, Pa?” Owen asked. They were down by the river again and Pa had been warning Owen that a gun could kill someone if you weren’t careful.
“Well, yes I did, son. It was a few years back now, but I killed him.”
“Did you go to prison?” Owen’s eyes were wide with astonishment to think his Pa had actually killed someone.
“Nah! Made out it was an accident. Said I’d thought it was a fox, but I knew it was him, that Greg Irving. Bastard was trespassing on my property and stealing my chickens. He got what he deserved, all right. A bullet in the head. Good, clean shot. He dropped face first in the dirt. Stone dead, he was.” Pa laughed.
“Wow!”
“Now you just keep that to yourself, young man. Your mother doesn’t know, and she doesn’t need to know. Understand?”
“Sure Pa. I won’t tell.”
“You see, Owen, when you’re a man, you’ve gotta be tough. Women don’t understand that, they want you to be all sweet and kind, like they are—well most of ’em, anyway. But when you’re a man, if you’re all kind and soft, people will just walk all over you. You’ve got to show them who’s boss. Only one winner in a fight, you just make sure that when the dust settles it’s you that is still standing. You understand what I’m saying?”
Ellen Brock 
Characterization is done very well in both dialogue and action.
How old is the boy? I only ask because Pa is very explicit when he reveals secrets to him.
You use the word (bugger) 2 x with different meanings. One as a thief and one as bullets. Was this intentional? Just thought I’d mention it.
The tense changes for just one line in Par. 16.
I think the cliche is supposed to be, “the broad side of a barn DOOR”
I did not understand … The tailgate of the UTE ??? Perhaps a spelling error or ignorance on my part??
There is a # sign in a paragraph all alone.
The story is a great character piece and I enjoyed reading it. The story sounds intriguing as well.
Good luck and happy writing.
I wish you would have provided a tad bit of context for the scenes but I read anyway and finished. I love the voice. I picture a young impressionable boy absorbing every word his grandfather says. The dialect is hillbillyish (if that’s a word) but not overdone. Good job. I found the first part believable but the second part jarred me a little. I picture this boy to be young so discussing killing a man doesn’t fit in my opinion if the second part follows the first in your book. Overall, great work
Here are a few suggestions for your to consider.
1. full of castor oil…..The comparison doesn’t work for me. Although castor oil sucks, perhaps a mouthful of lemons would convey the same message.
2. “I guess so,” Owen said with a shrug. The dialogue depicts the boredom without having to tell the reader…..said with a shrug.
3. The verb cackle is overused.
4. I don’t think you need the dialogue tags since there are only two people and you have Pa in Owen’s question.
Now, where did I hide ’em this time?”
“Hide what, Pa?”
5 Break up the monotony of the gun lesson and allow the reader to imagine the scene, dialogue and explanation, dialogue and explanation, example: “Your left hand, like so.” He took Owen’s hand and placed it on the hand grip. Try something like this….”Your left hand on the hand grip like so.”
I hope my suggestions work for you and wish you great success with your novel.
Overall I enjoyed this. The only comment I’ll add to the others is to maybe calm down Pa’s voice at the top of the section. The very first sentence immediately brought to mind the cartoon character Foghorn Leghorn (in my head, Pa became a large cartoon rooster….it was distracting.) Once into the section, it evened out and was better, but the first sentence definitely sent me in the wrong direction.
The other commentors here picked up most of what I was going to mention (including the over use of ‘cackle’), but I had a couple other little things. The speech patterns for Pa are borderline for me between too much and okay. It would be really easy to over do it and would advice toning it down or being very careful. Additionally, the descriptions seem too thin. Lots of dialogue but not much context. The gun zinged? Are they shooting a real rifle or a BB gun? Loud noise, lots of recoil, probably a bit scary especially for a kid. A bit more background on the characters and scenes would be nice. Otherwise it’s a nice start.
I’m intrigued by the story, but I also agree with some of the commenters above about overuse of the language style. I had to reread the first sentence, as the ” jumped into a pool of lemonade and come up with a mouth full of castor oil” metaphor threw me. Guess I missed its meaning.
I also wondered why Pa wouldn’t give him instructions for use of the gun first, before handing it to him. I also don’t know what a “ute” is.
Should be a good story when you’re finished.
Great voice and not over done. Flowed very well. Just one thing, be careful using hillbilly talk. It tends to be too cliche’. I think you have the talent to come up with more creative lines than, “hit the broadside of a barn,” or “chewing my ear off.”
I’m assuming Owen is between 8 and eleven??
I get a sense there’s a definite theme in that last paragraph. 😉
Thanks for your comments. I should have given some context but didn’t have enough spare words 😉 So I’ll answer some of your questions here.
The story is set in Australia, so some of the expressions are possibly not known outside Australia. A ‘ute’ is a utility, probably what Americans call a pick up.
The scene takes place when Owen’s mother (Charlotte aka Charlie) has gone to Sydney for a couple of days with a friend to help her friend buy a wedding dress. Owen is 7 years old and bored.
‘Pa’ aka Tobias Patton, is a definite country ‘hick’, hence the way he talks. I loved the comment about Foghorn Leghorn. He’s one of my favourite cartoon characters. I wonder was I channelling him when I created ‘Pa’…
Owen is certainly impressionable, but Pa doesn’t think about what he’s saying and what effect it may have on others. He swears a lot in front of Owen and he’s quite proud of the fact that he killed Greg and got away with it. He’s actually not a very nice person.
The setting for this is actually the area around where I live and it’s not unusual for young children to be around guns. (I don’t like it, but that’s the way they are). For instance, the young girl next door was given her own rifle for her 8th birthday.
The # sign is to signal a scene change. Still the same situation, but it’s a day or so later.
Thanks again, I’ll keep these comments in mind when editing.
Cheers
I found this excerpt really interesting. I liked the characterization of both characters. I liked the language Pa used – I’m Australian so I get “it” – but I did have to read his speech a couple of times to fully understand what he was saying.
I felt the story was engaging, there were some hints of potential conflict which made me want to read more.
I would be asking if Pa would really trust Owen with his confession of intentionally killing Greg Irving. A smart person wouldn’t do that, but I’m going to assume that’s a part of the story.
I’m glad there’s another Australian here. 🙂
Thanks for your comments, Leah.
Well written and flowed easily. Makes me wonder what kind of influence Pa will have over the kid since he’s clearly got him in his thrall. A good couple scenes. The second one with the quick and easy revelation about the murder was a little jarring, but would fit if Pa is proud of what he had done and doesn’t take any care to watch his words around the kid. Keep at it!