Just a dumb fuck

A perfect ten

We set off back down the river towards Nat’s house with Nat at the helm. I sat by his side, trying to think things through. I hadn’t got a clue what was going to happen next. I think I’ve just changed everything.

No.

Nat’s just changed everything.

My dad is still coming to college on Wednesday. I’m going to have to tell him about what happened at the party. I think that will work itself out. Nat doesn’t seem to think Mackenzie will get any blame for what happened. Hopefully it can all just get forgotten about. I don’t want to stir things up. I don’t want the girls to go to prison. It wasn’t all their fault. Maybe I did kind of encourage it at first. It really would be best just to let it go. Everyone forget about it.

I have to tell dad about me too. That I think I prefer guys to girls. No. I know I prefer guys. I don’t know why I do. It’s not that I don’t like girls. Mackenzie was nice. Elizabeth, well, she’s a real stunner too and she can be nice when she wants to be.  It’s just something about guys. It feels better when I look at Shane than any girl. Just look at him. Even though he isn’t gay, I still like him. He’s just so beautiful. Being a nice guy helps too of course, but it’s not what makes me really like him. I don’t know what causes that. I just like him. I don’t understand how people couldn’t like Shane. Especially why his parents couldn’t love him.

Guys don’t even have to be nice for me to like them. Jayden for instance. He’s so hot, but he’s never nice to me. Just kind of awesome. Strong, powerful, almost threatening. You just know never to tangle with him. I still can’t get that picture out of my head of him and Jackson fucking. Is that the difference? Do I love guys like Shane or Kyle, and lust after guys like Jayden or Jackson?

Nathan.

Nathan is the real problem. I don’t know what to think about him. He always has the ability to bowl a googly. He’d make a fantastic lawyer in a television series or film. Just asking that one critical question that leaves the accused floundering. I don’t know where he fits in. I’ve kind of fantasised about him, but I never expected anything to happen between us. I thought he was totally straight. Elizabeth hinted that he’s been in trouble involving girls. Then she said he liked guys. In fact, that he liked anything with a pulse, near enough. Kept on referring to me as his plaything. It doesn’t feel like that with him though. I think he really does like me. Definitely as a friend, when we’re not on duty at least. Even when he’s on duty, he’s not so bad now he’s a Sergeant. He’s got to grips with the role. Sergeants don’t need to be as harsh as Corporals. They’ve proven themselves. Nobody questions their position.

Is that what it is though? A role? Is he just acting the part? Elizabeth said he should go to acting school. Juilliard, I think. Maybe I am just his latest conquest. It didn’t feel like it. I think he really does like me. But that question. ‘Am I worth telling your dad about?’ It’s like he’s already made his mind up. Decided that I’m his boyfriend, now all we have to do is tell people. Is it like when he turned up at college and just said to Kyle, ‘Oh, dad’s bought me a car’?  Just that simple and straightforward. Like, ‘Look, mom, I’ve got a new toy. I call him ’Boots’. He’ll fetch a stick if I throw him one.’

I could tell people about Shane. Everyone would like him. They’d know why I liked him. Jayden would be different. I can see why he’s like he is with Jackson. Just a hot fuck, in secret. Not somebody to take home for tea and cucumber sandwiches. Nathan’s just completely different. He’s definitely sexy. I really want to fuck him. I’ve dreamed about getting him in bed for ages. It was bloody good last night when we did get in bed together. He’s every bit as hot as I dreamed. But afterwards, it was good too. Just holding him as we went to sleep. Waking up together this morning. So why am I so nervous about it? Dad will like him, I’m sure he will. They’ve met each other already.

Am I just scared because Nathan is so different to me? His money? His family? How confident he is? I don’t know anybody else back home remotely like him. Already dealing with lawyers and contracts and stuff like setting up a business as an art dealer?  That all just comes so naturally to him and he’s not even seventeen yet. Can he actually sign legal papers yet? Won’t he have to be eighteen for that?

Why the fuck do you always do this to me, Nathan?

“What was that, Boots?”

Shit! I’ve said it out loud. I looked over at Nat. He’s standing up behind the wheel, looking down at me. Smiling. Throttling the engines back so he can hear me more clearly.

“Time for the shutters to open again, Boots. You’ve been in your own world again for the last quarter hour, we’re almost at my house. Get ready to jump out with a rope and help me alongside the jetty in a minute or two.”

I looked around. The boathouse is just a few hundred yards ahead of us. There’s some light smoke drifting across the water from the barbeque grills on the terrace. Loads of tables and chairs set out. The guys are already here! Kyle’s gleaming primrose yellow and chrome Bronco is parked on the grass right up by the water’s edge. There are a few other cars there too. A couple of Porsches and that red one, that’s a bloody Maserati GT! I’m sure it is. Whose is that?  There are a couple of other cars. Ordinary cars. Some kind of Ford saloon car and an old Toyota pick-up truck. Both of those look to have seen better days.

Nathan grinned and rammed the throttle fully forward, lifted the boat up onto the plane and kept us mid-stream as the engine howled like a banshee. Everybody on the river bank and terrace heard us, looked around, saw us streak by at the head of a wall of spray thrown up by the propeller. We must have looked like a comet. I grabbed the windshield and clung on as Nat whirled the wheel and spun us round to face back upstream, then throttled back and slowed us right down so we could creep across the current and edge in to the jetty. Jeremiah and Elijah were on the ball, walking briskly down the jetty, reaching out for the rope as I threw it to them – I’m still not one hundred per cent sure which one is Elijah and which one is Jeremiah – and secured us to the inset stainless steel cleats on the jetty. That’s a nice touch. Less chance of stumbling over them and falling in that way.

As I climbed out of the boat behind Nat and started to walk towards the decking, I heard Nat saying, “Don’t haul her inside yet, boys, I’ve a feeling a few of my friends might want to take her for a spin.”

“Sure thing, Nat,” laughed Elijah, or maybe it was Jeremiah. I’m guessing their parents are church goers. Probably play banjos too. “We can dry her down and polish her later, right after we’ve filled your shoes with concrete and thrown you in.”

“Your Mustang is up by the house, Nat,” added the other prophet. “Mostly intact. We thought it best to use our car to help bring the food down. Didn’t want to get mayonnaise on your nice leather seats.”

Nat was laughing with them.

“Wow, nice boat, Nat. Can I have a go?” It was Travis, hurtling down the jetty with a sandwich in his hand and almost pushing me and Nat right off it in his hurry. “Come on, Shane, I’ll show you how to drive this thing. We can get it going way faster than Nat did.”

As Travis jumped down into the boat’s cockpit and began to spin the wheel around, Shane came over the decking towards us and smiled at Nathan. “Is it okay for us to have a go, Nat? I won’t let Travis go fast, I promise. I know about the ‘no wake at weekends’ rule.”

“Yes, it’s fine, help yourselves. Elijah or Jeremiah will help you back it out and show you the controls. I’m glad you could both come, I’ve been meaning to organise a party here for everybody one weekend before winter sets in but just never got round to it. Blame Boots, he’s been keeping us all busy with his tactical training stuff.”

Kyle appeared at Nat’s shoulder as we watched Travis and Shane take their seats in the boat, Elijah and Jeremiah untied them and gave the boat a good shove backwards out into the river. Travis hit the starter button and the engine roared into life.

“Are you sure, Nat?” asked Kyle. “Maybe you should have gone with them?”

Nat turned and smirked. “It’s okay, Kyle, they can’t go fast. I re-engaged the governor before we tied up. Travis can play with the throttle as much as he likes, but he won’t get it to go more than four miles per hour. Dad had it fitted to stop me from speeding a few years ago. Elijah over there taught me how to disconnect it the very next day…”

We all turned to watch as the boat motored out mid-stream, nice and gently, just like a Sunday afternoon pleasure craft should. Travis turned and smiled at Shane, said something we couldn’t hear, then pushed the throttle forward right to the end stop. The engine remained burbling gently, the boat still squatting down in full displacement mode, continued on upstream against the current at little more than walking pace.

“Enjoy yourselves, guys,” shouted Nathan. “And remember, no wake.”

Kyle nodded approvingly and put a friendly hand on Nat’s shoulder.

“Thanks for inviting us all out here. I hope you don’t mind, but I asked Lee along too. That’s his pick-up over there. He thought it best to leave the Ferrari at home so he didn’t put Connor’s Maserati in the shade.”

Nat was smiling still. “Where is Lee? I’ll go say hello, make him feel welcome.”

Kyle grinned. “He was over with your housekeeper, Milly, telling her the best way to cook a steak, then your mom spotted him and pounced. Said it was shame he hadn’t had enough warning from you about the barbeque so he could bring some of his football friends along. Black mark against you there, Nat. Got to keep the eye candy rolling, as well as all the potential suitors lined up for Elizabeth.”

Kyle turned and looked at me. “Speaking of which, there were some pretty good photos of you in the Herald this morning, Boots, escorting Mrs Bauer into the exhibition and then dancing with the hottest girl in town. The Post-Gazette ran a spread too. I think you got more coverage than Jackson…”

“Boots, can you do me a favour?” asked Nathan. “Pop over and ask Elizabeth to come here so I can introduce her to Kyle again. She’s there with Will, by the buffet. And check Will has something to drink, it’s still quite hot for a Fall day. Then perhaps you and Will could set those archery targets up about fifty yards down the river bank?”

“Sure thing, Nat.”

I turned around and wandered over towards where several long tables had been set out on the terrace and laden with food, weaving my way through a half dozen or so smaller round tables that had been placed out for people to sit at and eat. Nathan must think I  just got off the banana boat yesterday. It’s pretty bloody obvious that he wants to talk to Kyle about me, and get Elizabeth involved too. I’m going to have to get used to this. Everybody talking about me again rather than to me.

Will was talking to Elizabeth about Bernoulli and vacuum pressure. Or lack of it. Vacuums don’t exert a pressure of course. She even seemed interested, and looked slightly irritated when I interrupted to pass on Nathan’s message.

“Please excuse me for a moment, Will, while I go and tread on my brother’s toes,” she said. “I’m sure Craig here will keep you entertained somehow, perhaps you could throw him a stick and see if he brings it back for you. And don’t let me forget to show you the exo-atmospheric expansion simulation I’ve been running before you go.”

As Elizabeth put down her empty plate on a vacant table and went over to find Nathan, Will turned to me and glared. “Nice timing, Boots, we were just discussing hot versus cold gas thrust vectoring for attitude stabilisation. It’s Elizabeth’s project for her PhD at CalTech. What’s so important that Nathan needs to drag her away?”

“Sorry, Will. I’m just the messenger. Oh, and Nathan wants us to set up the archery targets over there. We’d best do it before he gets ratty.”

Will followed me over to where a couple of wooden easel type things lay on the ground alongside some big, woven straw, discs. Archery targets. Well, backstops anyway. There were some paper ‘bull’s eye’ targets rolled up in a cardboard tube and a staple gun so we could attach them to the straw backstops. It only took us about ten minutes to roll the two backstops, which are about four feet across, along the grass and set them up on the easels where Nat had indicated. Will stapled a target to them both and, of course, had to try and fire a staple at me. The staple just dropped out of the gun and fell to the ground about two inches away. Not much momentum behind a thin wire staple. That’s why the army have never tried using them instead of good old lead bullets.

“Nice try, Will. Maybe stick to designing gas thrusters though. Do you know where the bows are? There must be bows if we have targets. And how about the shotguns? They’ve put a firing cage over there, and one of those machines for throwing up clays, but I haven’t seen any shotguns either. I’ll beat you at both later when we find them.”

Will was smiling. “I think you’ll get your ass kicked when it comes to the archery. And the clay shooting.”

Will’s confident. Over confident. He may think he knows about archery and shooting but I can wipe the floor with him. I shoot clays back home with my dad. Okay, so I haven’t done archery before but that’s hardly going to be difficult is it? Just pull the string back, aim and let go.

Will was still smiling as we walked back to the decked terrace at the boathouse where people were congregating now that it smelled like the steaks, sausages, burgers and onions were just about cooked to perfection. Milly had certainly put a lot of effort in to the barbeque: some of the guys might have been very keen to help out with grilling the meat but I’m pretty certain they weren’t responsible for the bowls of rice and salad, or the cakes. Travis and Shane hadn’t got very far upriver and could clearly see everyone gathering around the food, which prompted Travis to turn around and head back at full speed, but it was a much slower full speed than he was hoping for. It must be torture for Travis out there, being able to smell the food probably, seeing us all helping ourselves to it and he’s stuck six hundred yards away and in danger of seeing all the best bits gone before he gets back.

In addition to the guys from the dorm, and the Bauers of course, there were also quite a few of the officer cadets at the barbeque. Kyle had invited Jackson as Nathan suggested, and he’d clearly brought a few others. Some of the boxing club, like Connor and Jayden are here, plus a few officer cadets I was less familiar with. The Porsches and other flash cars had to belong to them. Lee was also there, along with Elijah and Jeremiah. I guess one of the prophets owns the Ford.

Nathan, Kyle and Elizabeth were back in circulation too, the food clearly drawing them back out of the boathouse. Nathan came back over to join me at the grill where I was taking a small steak to add to the plate of rice and salad I’d already grabbed. Once he’d helped himself to a plateful of food we looked around for somewhere to sit and were just about to go and join his mum at a table she was sharing with Jackson and another officer cadet when Elijah came over waving a large sheet of paper.

“Hey Nat, look at this!”

The paper was actually the back of one of the archery targets. On it had been drawn a picture of him and his brother. It was a really good drawing, unmistakably by Noah.

“Your friend over there drew us a few minutes ago.” He was pointing to Noah. “He just picked up a piece of charcoal from the barbeque supplies, and this target for paper, and sketched us in about two minutes. He’s awesome. Your mom says he’s got some pictures on display at the gallery in Pittsburgh too. He’s given us this one. Our mom will probably frame it.”

As Elijah went off to show the picture to somebody else, Nathan made a beeline straight for the table where Noah was eating with Will. Elizabeth was just sitting down beside Will, much to the annoyance of one of the Cadet Officers who had been trying to catch her eye. There were a couple of sticks of charcoal on the table and a few sheets of the brown paper that Milly had used to cover the plates before lunch was served. One of the sheets of paper already had a rough sketch of the river view outlined on it.

“Hi Noah,” said Nat.

Noah looked up and nodded to Nat.

“You can’t go round giving pictures to people, Noah,” said Nat as he sat down beside Noah.

Noah looked at him quizzically, then replied, “I can Nat. I just did.”

Nathan’s said the wrong thing. You have to be precise with Noah.

“No, Noah, what I meant was, ‘you shouldn’t go around giving pictures to people’. Not for free. I’m your agent. We have a deal, remember?”

“Yes, Nat, I know. I’m priming the market. There’s a chapter about it in our economics textbook. It’s called stimulating demand, on page seventy-three if you need to look it up. I don’t think Elijah can afford a thousand dollars for my picture, so I gave it to him. More people will want pictures now. As my agent it’s your job to manage that demand. Set prices and maintain a positive revenue stream. You need to get on the ball, Nathan, earn your fifteen per cent.”

Will and I looked at each other, then at Nathan. He’s dumbfounded. Baby big cheese has just been given an economics lecture by Noah!

“Jump to it, little brother,” laughed Elizabeth, “Earn your money. And by the way, most galleries are on at least twenty-five per cent.”  That was really rubbing Nat’s nose in it. Nathan’s cut Noah a really good deal at fifteen per cent, ‘mates’ rates’ as we’d say back home, but it looks like Noah is going to make him work for every single cent of it. Noah’s probably going to lecture him about defined service level agreements next.

Milly had provided such a huge amount of food that there was no shortage of it, even when a bunch of teenage boys set about devouring it like a plague of locusts. Travis and Shane had returned in the boat and done their best to assist in clearing the grills – Travis had a hot dog in one hand and a burger in the other until he realised that there wasn’t going to be a famine.

Lee wandered by with an almost empty plate and asked Nathan if him and Kyle could borrow the motor boat. For a trip on the river

“Sure,” smiled Nathan. “If you lift the engine hatch you’ll see a small governor on the fuel feed line, just isolate it to get full performance. Don’t let anybody else see you doing it though, and switch it back inline just before you come back. Don’t want to be giving anyone else ideas do we?”

Lee laughed. “I knew you must have done something before letting Travis loose, he was working the throttle like mad and going nowhere.”

“You might want to take Kyle downstream too, the opposite way to where Travis went,” smirked Nathan. “There’s a nice secluded island there…”

“Nat,” asked Will, “Can we get the bows? Where are they?”

Nat grinned and pointed to the boathouse. “Over in there, I’ll ask Elijah or Jeremiah to give you a hand bringing them out, and the shotguns too. Time to start the sports I think.” He turned and called over to Shane. “We have a few flags in the boathouse, Shane. They belong to a set of five golf holes that are scattered about the grounds. If I get Elijah to put them out, you can borrow my clubs if you like and have a mini-golf tournament with some of the others.”

Ten minutes later Elijah was busy laying out the golf course for Shane and a few others as Jeremiah brought a pair of bows to the archery zone. Archery Zone. That’s what Nat called it. It’s a ‘Butts’ butthead! It’s not even as if they didn’t have bows and arrows in America. The Indians were lethal with them. That’s why probably why Travis has a gun back home. Dakota is Injun territory.

The bows were high tech carbon fibre affairs with pulleys and even a holographic sight, not just simple sticks with a bit of string like Robin Hood used. A small crowd was gathering, partly to see what the bows could do but also because Elizabeth was there. She’s pretty much like a magnet to the officer cadets. Jayden in particular was very much trying to get off with her, and clearly irritated that she was quite pointedly preferring to chat with Will. Jayden obviously thinks Will’s just an annoying little kid, but hasn’t twigged that that’s exactly how Elizabeth sees him.

I picked up the bow and notched an arrow into the string, lifted it and took careful aim at the target through the sight. Drawing back the string was dead easy, all the pulleys were doing the work, and I had plenty of time to sort out the aim before releasing the arrow. It flew downrange fast, very fast, and stuck in the target with a resounding “Thump”. I’d hit the blue ring, so three points. Not bad for my first go. You score ten points for the small gold centre, five for the red ring outside that, then three for the blue, two for the black ring and a single point for the outer white ring. My next one will be in the gold. I know it will. I’ll quickly get the hang of that sight.

Will picked up the second bow but before he could do anything with it, Jayden pushed forward and took it from him.

“Step aside, pretty boy,” he sneered, “I’ll show you how it’s down.”

Jayden squared off to the target, which is about thirty or forty feet away, and grabbed three arrows. He put the first one in the bow, lifted it and shot off the arrow in one smooth motion. He’s clearly done it before. The arrow hit the dividing line between the red and gold rings. He loaded and shot a second arrow, taking just a few seconds longer to refine his aim, and that one was definitely in the gold centre. The third arrow landed close to it, definitely in the gold circle. Okay, he’s a show off, but that was actually pretty good.

I was going to get a couple more arrows myself and see if I could get them in the gold. Jayden’s score would still beat mine, but if I can zap two arrows into the gold it will look impressive. I’m sure I can do it.

Elizabeth stepped over and took the bow from my hands.

“Can I borrow this, Craig?” She’s got that sweet, innocent smile on her face. The one that she uses when she’s just about to kick your legs from under you. “It seems this big boy has taken mine.” Nat’s drifted over to watch, and said something to Jackson. They’re both smirking now.

“Be a sweetie and hold this for me, would you?” She passed Jayden the apple she was carrying, and then turned to face the second target. It was quite a bit further away from the one I’d shot at. Well, it pays to go close on the first attempt, I hadn’t wanted to miss and look a complete wassock. Not in front of a crowd. It doesn’t seem to bother Elizabeth though. She’s definitely lining up on the further target. Probably fifty feet away?

Will’s like a Cheshire cat. He passed Elizabeth three arrows and gave her a sly grin. “Show him, Lara.”

Did Will just call her ‘Lara’? As in Lara Croft? The badass bitch from Tomb Raider? He looks to have got away with it too.

Elizabeth tucked the two spare arrows alongside her left forearm and placed the third against the string. She lifted the bow gracefully up from pointing at the ground and almost before anyone could realise it, an arrow was whistling down the field and thumping into the gold centre of the more distant target. The next arrow was in the bow almost instantly, she just sort of seemed to put the string over the nock as it lay against her forearm and drew back to full stretch again in a single fluid action. That arrow landed right alongside the first, and was joined by the third almost before anyone could figure out how she’d done it.

“Bloody awesome, Lara!”

I don’t care if she did just hear me say that out aloud. She’s good. A second thought occurred too: maybe Will was setting me up to take that fall before Jayden poked his nose in. Well, he’s just had it put out of joint.

Jayden smiled sheepishly as everyone began to congratulate Elizabeth, then raised the apple and balanced it on his head. “Okay, you win,” he said, “I think I’d probably be safe to let you shoot this off my head.”

Elizabeth wasn’t done with him yet. She took the apple from Jayden’s head and jammed it, hard, between his thighs. “I’d be more impressed if you had the courage to go and stand in front of the target and hold it like that,” she smiled sweetly.

I think every guy there winced. My balls jumped up so high my throat thought I’d got a new set of tonsils.

“Now Craig,” she said, turning to me, “Will tells me you’re pretty hot with a shotgun. Fancy coming and showing me how to take down a few clays?”

I had a sneaking feeling that things were not going to go according to my plan. As I walked over to the shotgun cage with her and Will, followed by a very interested crowd of course, I smiled and asked, “Elizabeth, I assume you can shoot a shotgun, and I’m going to get my arse kicked?”

She chuckled and said, ”You bet, Craig. And what’s with the stripey T shirt? Is my baby brother trying to dress you as his twin? You look like a couple of Italian ice cream salesmen.” She did have a point.

The trap - the machine for firing clays - had been set up by the riverside, but threw the clays inland so that the shot from the guns would all fall over the Bauers’ land.  They also had a wire cage that the shooter had to stand inside when firing, the side and rear mesh walls of which prevented the shooter from swinging the gun round too far and accidentally firing in the direction of the crowd of watchers. The front of the cage, facing the clays, is open of course. It’s a dead simple precaution but it’s amazing how many places don’t use them.

“Right, your go first Craig,” said Elizabeth, directing me into the cage as Elijah went and sat by the trap ready to launch the clays. She took one of the two shotguns from the rack integral with the cage, broke it open to prove to me it was unloaded, then passed it over. I checked it and then pointed it out of the front of the cage, swung it to get a feel for its weight and balance and also to check my arc of fire. The shotgun was a good one, a Perazzi, The Bauers seem to have a thing for classy Italian stuff. Elizabeth popped a box of cartridges on the shelf and laid out the rules.

“When you’re loaded, keep the gun down at your hip and call ‘Pull’ to have Elijah release two simultaneous clays. Once the clays are launched, raise, aim and fire at your discretion. We’ll have five pairs of clays each, the winner is the one who hits most. As you haven’t used this gun before, you can have a trial pair of clays for practice. I won’t bother. Clear?”

“Clear, Elizabeth.”

We’ve got a crowd of about ten people gathered around to watch. Elijah’s handing out packs of those little foam rubber ear plugs to the onlookers. Ten minutes ago every one of them would have been expecting me to win and Elizabeth probably just to fall flat on her arse at her first shot. Now, having seen her annihilate Jayden at archery, they all expect her to win. She’s definitely Lara Croft in disguise.

Elijah looked at me to see if I was ready for my pair of practice shots. I put on a pair of ear defenders, closed the gun, slipped on the safety catch, lowered it to my hip and nodded.

“Pull!”

There was a short delay, barely a second, then a clatter and clang as the spring loaded arm of the trap scooped up two clays from its magazine and flung them high into the air. As they arced upwards I pushed off the safety, shouldered the gun, tracked them into the air, swung beyond them, slowed the swing just a fraction as they approached the top of their arc then, just as they appeared to be about to slow down and stop before gravity pulled them back to the ground, I fired both barrels in quick succession.

The first clay was completely powdered by a perfect shot. Nice! The second one broke in two, probably hit by only a single pellet, but it counts. Two out of two. Not bad for a strange gun. It’s actually a very good gun. The instructor at the club my dad goes to uses one. Lots of the Olympic shooters use them. I lowered the gun and broke it open before turning to grin at Elizabeth as a murmur went around the onlookers. Maybe the result isn’t a foregone conclusion.

“Nice gun, Elizabeth”

She smiled back, “Not bad for a beginner. But be warned, the trap throws the clays on different trajectories, they aren’t all high loopers like those two. From now on, they all count to your score.”

I dropped two more cartridges into the barrels and closed the gun, checked Elijah was ready.

“Pull!”

Another pair of high loopers. I tracked them up to their apogee, fired the first barrel at one clay, adjusted slightly for the second and then fired again. Both clays were completely dusted. I love it when that happens. Elizabeth looked impressed and smiled as I reloaded.

“Pull!”

There was a clatter and a clank, then a second clank. Even though the trap was out of my sightline and I’d need to wait a split second before the clays flew into view, I knew that the mechanism has selected a different trajectory for each of this pair. One flashed across my front low and flat, the second was looping high again. Instinctively I tracked the lower, faster shot, struggled to pick it out easily from the grass and woodland background, got the bead on it, swung through it, squeezed the trigger, saw it break into several pieces. The second clay was much easier, slowly looping high up into the sky, easy to see against the plain blue background. I dusted it.

Four out of four. Not bad. The crowd are impressed. I can see Nathan out of the corner of my eye. He looks impressed. Jayden and Connor are there with him, and they actually look as though they are willing me on. Mrs Bauer has wandered over to watch.

“Pull!”

Just a single clank this time. That means the mechanism hasn’t indexed to a different trajectory for the second clay. They’re both going in the same direction. But which bloody direction? I can’t see them. They aren’t going high. Bugger ! They’re both low and fast, cutting across my front at an angle. Difficult to see against the background. Hard to track. I squeezed the trigger as the bead crossed the first clay, saw it sail on untouched, adjusted for the second, squeezed the trigger again. I think the second clay wobbled. A bit may have been chipped off. I’m not sure.

“First clay, missed, second clay, hit,” called out Elijah. The crowd weren’t sure about the second clay. Half thought I had missed it, half swore they had seen it wobble and a small chip fly off.

“Elijah’s decision is final,” said Elizabeth. “One hit, one miss. Five from six is the total.”

The crowd are really getting behind this now. Still debating that last pair. Half of them convinced they were easy shots I should have dusted but missed, half of them tending to think Elijah had called it right. I reloaded, slowly this time, took the extra seconds to calm down.

“Pull!”

Clatter. Clank. Pause. Clank. That’s it. Different trajectories. Probably one high – which can wait for the second barrel, and one low. That low one has to be priority. I almost didn’t see it, then picked it up late. A ground runner. Rolling across the grass to simulate a running rabbit. I tracked it, saw the second clay looping upwards in my peripheral vision, concentrated on the runner, beaded it, fired, saw it disintegrate, then raised skywards and dusted the high bird. Thank fuck for that. Seven from eight. That’s a bloody respectable score with a strange gun and no practice for about six months.

Elizabeth’s actually looking at me approvingly. This isn’t going to be a complete walkover for her.

“Final pair, Craig. Best of luck.”

I loaded, took a couple of deep breaths.

“Pull!”

Two distinct clatters from the trap mechanism. Two different flight paths. But where are they? They’re obviously clays from that pygmy tribe. You know, The Fukawi People. You must have heard of them. They run round in the tall grass, jumping up high to look over it and shouting ‘we’re the Fukawi’. I can’t see the clays. Bloody hell ! They’re both ground rollers, but going in different directions! Speeding away out of range quickly and bouncing erratically as they hit lumps and bumps in the grass. I drew a bead on the more distant, fired, saw the ground erupt a few inches behind it as the shot chewed up the grass and earth but missed the clay. Buggrit! Swing round to the second. Relax, don’t rush it. I have to rush it! It’s getting away! I squeezed the trigger just as it bounced and veered sideways. Saw the earth and clods of grass fly up all around it. Saw a big quadrant of clay spin out of the earth. Bloody got it!

“First clay missed, second clay hit. Eight out of ten in total.” Elijah looks impressed.

Elizabeth is smiling, congratulating me as I break the gun, eject the empties and prove it clear before handing it over to her.

“Pretty good, Craig. I can see you’ve shot clays before.”

Elizabeth took the gun from me, felt the barrels lightly, put in the rack.

“I’ll let the barrels cool for a minute or two before I shoot. Just time for everyone to get a fresh drink or something else to eat. Don’t take long, I’ll only be a minute.” Most people stayed right there, unwilling to risk missing a shot. Even Travis seemed to hesitate before dashing off to grab himself a steak sandwich. Elizabeth wandered over to Elijah at the trap and spoke with him briefly, then came back to the cage and picked up her gun. The game was on. She has to be good to risk a challenge like this. She’s fairly confident she can beat me. I can tell. She’s not worried by my score of eight from ten.

As Elizabeth stepped inside the cage and loaded the gun everyone fell silent. She had barely lowered it to her hip, and definitely hadn’t called ‘Pull’ for the clays, when the trap clattered and launched two fast, low clays. That’s not right! She isn’t ready. Viewing from the side and behind, able to see the trap, the crowd had an advantage over Elizabeth. From the cage, the launcher is out of sight. As the clays cut across her front, Elizabeth fluidly brought the gun up to her shoulder, picked out the trajectories of the clays, tracked them, dusted them both.

I knew there and then I was going to lose.

The crowd were convinced Elijah had tried to trick her, had fired the clays before she was ready, had somehow selected the two most awkward trajectories. No way. She had told him. Told him to fire any time after she had loaded, not wait for her to call the release. The way she mounted the gun, tracked the targets, absorbed the recoil, lowered and reloaded the gun in one easy movement spoke for itself. She can shoot. Maybe quite a few of the guys watching could have afforded the ten or so thousand dollars a high grade Perazzi competition gun costs, but she could actually justify it.

Will’s looking directly at me. Smirking. He knows she’s going to kick my arse. Just what is it between him and Elizabeth? She’s five years older than him, but maybe he actually does have a chance with her. More chance than Jayden anyway. Maybe she has a thing for geeky pretty boys. Except he’s not just a sweet, innocent, pretty boy. He’s an absolute demon on the lacrosse field. Most people don’t see that side of him.

It didn’t take long. As fast as Elizabeth reloaded, Elijah fired off a pair of clays. Always on different trajectories. Only a single one of them an easy, high looper. Elizabeth thoroughly deserved to win. She made it look way easier than it was, which I guess is the hallmark of a really top player at any sport. I was the first to congratulate her as she placed the shotgun back in the rack. Most of the others were queuing up to have a go themselves, all convinced that it must be easy if I could score eight and Elizabeth a perfect ten.

Mrs Bauer was there too, quick to congratulate Elizabeth but also to congratulate me. “I’m sure your mother would agree Craig, it’s so nice to have such talented children. Especially when they are playing nicely. Now, would you care to walk me and Elizabeth back over to the boathouse terrace for a glass of lemonade? I’m sure we can leave all these young warriors safely in Elijah’s hands to bruise their shoulders.”

I offered Mrs Bauer my arm and was quite surprised when Elizabeth took my other arm for the couple of hundred yards’ walk back along the riverbank to the boathouse terrace. Will glared and tagged along, and after only a few paces Elizabeth let my arm go and dropped back to walk with him. We’re not in competition, Will!

Back at the terrace we helped ourselves to glasses of real lemonade and sat down at a table. Within a few minutes Nathan had joined us, and a few of the others began to drift back too after finding out that the clay pigeon shooting wasn’t as easy as Elizabeth made it look. Noah and Shane had returned from playing golf and seated themselves at the next table to ours.

Elizabeth leaned over and asked Noah if she could borrow one of the sticks of charcoal he had already placed on the table. He said nothing but smiled at her and passed over a stick of charcoal. Elizabeth took it and then pulled Nathan close to her, one hand at the back of his head, and daubed a spot of charcoal on the tip of his nose. He didn’t pull away, just laughed as Elizabeth continued and drew a set of whiskers below his new nose, then snarled and gave her his tiger face. Noah looked quite amused. Mrs Bauer just gave kind of resigned sigh.

“Elizabeth…”

Connor, who had just arrived back from the shooting area rubbing his shoulder, grabbed a glass of lemonade, gave Nathan a weird “What the fuck?” type of look and then went over to stand beside Noah.

“Cadet Mason?”

Noah looked up at him.

“Yes, Connor?” That’s good Noah, remind him there’s no need for formality today. We’re away from college at a Sunday afternoon barbeque as Nathan’s guests.  

“You drew the picture of the gardeners. Could you draw a picture of me too? Maybe leaning against my Maserati?”

Noah looked over to the Maserati, then up at Connor.

“Sure, Connor.”

Nathan was looking concerned. He exchanged glances with Elizabeth, started to get up out of his seat to go and intervene. Noah was already speaking again.

“You’ll need to arrange it with Nat. He’ll sort the price.”

Connor looked confused. “You didn’t charge the gardeners,” said Connor. ”You gave them their picture.”

Noah gave Connor that look he has when he thinks you don’t understand something really simple.

“Yes, Connor. They didn’t ask me to draw them. I drew them for myself, then gave them the picture. They probably can’t afford my pictures. But you’re commissioning me. That’s different. Nathan handles my commissions.”

To Noah the matter is closed. He just looked down from Connor and returned to his lemonade. Nathan’s happy too. He was on his feet, walking over to Connor, putting his arm round his shoulder, guiding him off towards the Maserati. Connor can afford to pay for a picture. Nathan’s just about to make his first sale. I guess fifteen percent of not much isn’t worth the effort, but as Connor can afford a Maserati maybe Nathan will pitching the price accordingly. Connor doesn’t look used to negotiating with a tiger either.