“What’s up, Nomad?” Rock asks.
“Thought I’d give Maggie a lesson in how to shoot a gun,” Keno replies, and my eyes bug out.
“What?” I almost spit out my beer. “I don’t have a gun.”
“You need one,” Keno says, then looks at Rock. “Don’t you think she needs one?”
“Yeah, I believe she does. You gonna solve that for her?”
“Thought I might,” Keno replies, then digs under his cut and pulls out a small handgun, laying it over his forearm with the butt toward me. “I got this for you.”
“Got it for me? You mean you bought it?”
“Something like that.”
I start to reach for it but hesitate. “Is this gun stolen?”
Keno chuckles. “No, Maggie. But it’s also not registered to you, so it’s just for emergencies.”
I stare at it like it’s a snake. “I’ve never had a gun. I don’t know the first thing about them. I’ve never even touched one before.”
“That’s why we’re going out back and practice. You’ll be Annie Oakley in no time.”
“Way to overpromise and underdeliver, brother,” a man says.
Keno elbows him. “Shut up, asshole.”
“Aren’t you gonna introduce us to your lady-friend?” the man asks, then reaches around Keno to extend his hand to me. “Name’s Shack, but you can call me Handsome.”
“I’m gonna call you an ambulance if you don’t shut the fuck up,” Keno snaps.
“Promises, promises. What’s your name, girly?”
I shake his hand since it's still hanging in midair.
“Maggie.”
Keno pushes our hands apart. “That’s enough. Come on.”
He takes my hand and pulls me behind him toward the back door.
“Hey, wait for me. I don’t want to miss all the fun.”
I glance to see Shack grabbing his drink and following.
Keno leads me down a hall and out a back door.
There’s a wide grassy area with some picnic tables scattered near the back door, but further away I see a line of empty beer and whiskey bottles on a plank. Before us there are two posts with a board nailed on top like a counter.
Keno sets his beer on top and shows me how to load the weapon.
We spend about five minutes on the gun, then he pops a cartridge of bullets in. “Now comes the fun part.”
“Oh, yay,” I say with a distinct lack of enthusiasm.
“You really doin’ this?” Shack asks, sipping on his drink and watching.
“What’s the matter, Shack? Afraid she’ll turn out to be a better shot than you?” Keno snaps.