“I want you to show Gunnery Sergeant Hartman the respect that he deserves for his service to this country. He has taken time out of his life to be here tonight to help you. Any questions?” Coach Hope asked.
I just kept my eyes straight ahead. When my mom got this way, it was best to simply shut up and listen.
“Gunny’s a big teddy bear, Daddy,” Cassidy said, ruining everything her father had just told us.
Brook and I got the giggles because he’d been so serious.
“Get that out of your system before we get there,” he warned me.
“Yes, sir,” I said.
Gunny ended up being one of the nicest men I’d ever met. He apparently knew Dave, the owner, and they were talking when we came in.
“Gunny!” Cassidy called out and then leaped into his outstretched arms.
“Hey, Short Stuff, I hear your dad’s getting you a weapon.”
Cassidy introduced us, and he got down to business.
“What’s your need?” he asked.
Cassidy and Paul told him about them working security. Then they walked out to the car, and he looked at the guns in the center console. I’d brought my Range Sports pistol at Coach Hope’s direction; it was in a gun safe in the back.
“Is this what you usually carry?” Gunny asked.
“In LA, we also have tactical shotguns with beanbag rounds,” Paul said.
“Do you carry, other than what you have in the car?” Gunny asked Paul.
“No, but after this week, with what happened in Orlando, we plan to,” Paul admitted.
It sounded like Fritz was going to make some changes. We walked back inside and joined Brook, Coach Hope, and Dave at the counter so Gunny could talk to all of us.
“The mission should dictate the tools, but beyond that, selecting a firearm is a matter of preference. However, you should consider a few variables. The first is reliability. You need a weapon that will stand up to continuous training. You don’t need a gun that will fail after repeated use.
“The second consideration is accuracy. Almost any weapon will shoot a tight grouping from a gun vise. Accuracy is not about the weapon, but about the operator. Most weapons shoot more accurately than you can hold them, so you should select one you can aim and hold steady.
“I’m a firm believer that you should consider shooting the largest caliber and heaviest load of bullet that you can shoot accurately. Accuracy should always trump caliber size. For personal protection, I’m not a fan of any caliber below 9mm. I suggest you start with 9mm and work your way up from there in your selection process.
“The final factor you need to consider is simplicity or ease of operation. On a weapons range, most any firearm seems fine. It’s when you get into a live operation that you’ll appreciate a weapon that’s easy to use,” Gunny explained. “That’s especially so if it will be used infrequently.”
There was a long discussion about gun-barrel lengths. It was decided that the guns in the car were fine for there. Those had five-inch barrels and were more accurate. For a sidearm to carry, it was thought that they would be better off with a three-inch barrel for concealability.
The others tried several guns, and Cassidy decided on a Glock G43. Paul selected the G26 Gen4, a slightly bigger pistol that fit his hand better. Both used 9mm ammo. Brook picked out the G27 Gen4 that fired a .40 round.
I learned what the term EDC meant: EveryDay Carry. With that came accessories like holsters and shooting glasses. Then there was ammunition. Gunny suggested that I buy them each a case. From my questioning look, he explained that a case of ammo was equivalent to 20 boxes, and each box held 50 rounds. He said it would get them a good start on practicing. Dave said he happened to be having a sale on cases. Caryn was going to kill me.
That was when we hit a little snag. I was too young to buy anything, as were both Brook and Cassidy. I remembered that when Devin Range had given me my handguns, rifle, and shotgun set, they were all registered in my dad’s name. At the time, I didn’t even think about it. Coach Hope filled out the paperwork for Cassidy so her gun would be registered to him until she was old enough. Brook’s dad, Ian, would be in tomorrow to do the same for her. We couldn’t take the guns now anyway because of the waiting period built into the law.
Ammo was a different story. Paul had a company credit card, so I had him buy four cases, three of 9mm and one of .40 caliber. I told Paul and Coach Hope that I would have Caryn reimburse them for their guns.
Coach Hope felt bad for me when he saw the price tag and let me off the hook for buying him a gun. He admitted he might have a few at home. I wondered why Cassidy didn’t just use one of his but kept my smart comments to myself.
◊◊◊
Beth wanted to go to the Grill House. It was a steak place where you grilled your own steak. That didn’t excite me, so we had them grill our steaks for us since I felt my time would be better spent talking to Beth.
“Do you still plan on being a pharmacist?” I asked.
“Either that or medical sales. I’ve been told there’s more money in sales. I figure I can just call upon my inner David and flirt with the doctors.”
“Well, I’d buy from you,” I said, waggling my eyebrows.
“You’re getting better at that,” she observed.
“I have two new ones,” I said, and demonstrated the one-eyebrow-arched look and then the new drowned-puppy expression.
“I give you high marks on the lip quiver.”
From her deadpan response, I was afraid it wasn’t any better than my little-angel face.
“What was the deal with your expression of undying love?” I asked.
From Beth’s expression, I wasn’t supposed to ask that. She sighed and decided to talk to me about it.
“Okay, I’ll just put it out there. At some point, I want us to be more than friends. I know that our parents have expectations of us, but that’s not what’s behind this. I’d be saying this even if our moms weren’t pushing us towards each other, now that Greg’s a lost cause.”
“Whatever happened between you two?” I asked.
When Greg was a freshman, something happened between him and Beth. From that point forward, she’d been more my friend than his. Shortly after that, he started to go out with almost every girl at Lincoln High.
She looked sad.
“I’m not sure I want to talk to you about this,” Beth hesitantly said.
“What did he do?” I asked, getting concerned.
“Crap,” she mumbled. “Okay, but remember, I didn’t want to tell you this.”
What the heck did that mean? I just nodded.
“Before I tell you, you need to know that Greg’s not the bad guy here. If anything, we’re both at fault. We’re fine with what happened and have moved on,” she clarified.
“Yada, yada, yada. Quit stalling,” I prompted.
Beth blushed because she realized I’d figured out her tactic.
“I’m not sure you can handle this …” she started, but I held up my hand.
“You’re only making it worse. You realize my imagination will take off, and I’ll pound the crap out of Greg the next time I see him.”
“I’m not sure you could take him,” she tried.
“Please. Everyone knows I can kick his butt,” I said, rolling my eyes. “Now talk.”
“Fine,” she huffed, and then I waited her out.
“I hate it when you do that,” Beth tried one last time to get me on another topic.
“I hate it when you do that,” I mimicked.
“Dick.”
“Hey, just tell me already. Trying to get me to fight with you won’t work.”
Beth thought for a moment and sighed.
“You know how our moms are about wanting to join the families. Greg and I had been brought up knowing that one day, we would fulfill their dream and give them lots of grandbabies to fuss over. It had been so ingrained in us that we never even questioned it.