I Love Corey, Chapter Nineteen

I could tell she wasn’t telling me all she knew about the church and its members and wondered if that would make any difference. I’d never been the target of any hate crimes or violence. Growing up in California, which is a pretty laid back state, hadn’t prepared me to face such a problem. On thinking about it, I wondered if anything could prepare one to deal with what Mrs. Downey was suggesting might happen.

“They’re built on hate. I’ve never seen such a bunch. I don’t know why but they can’t seem to accept life as it is and seem to have to have someone to blame. Watch yourself Sam, they might try to do something.”

“You’re kidding. Things like that don’t happen in this country.”

“No, I’m not kidding. I think they’re dangerous,” she said.

“Good lord, they are already in trouble. I can’t believe they are so stupid as to think they could get away with doing anything.”

“Sam, you’re young yet. You haven’t come in contact with people who have such hatred for any one they consider to represent an idea different than that which they deem right. Further, it makes no difference to them that you resigned because you were forced to by the state. The fact that you expressed the opinion that you thought all would benefit from contact with each other has made you a target. You didn’t help yourself with them when you pointed out the fact that they only selectively follow what they profess to believe. In fact, that probably put you as number one on their list. Remember, they’re not reasonable people, they’re bigots. They don’t feel they have to justify their position. They just know they’re right, even though they can’t defend their position.”

I suddenly wondered what I ought to do about it. I’d already managed to put myself in the ‘line of fire’ and didn’t see any good way out.

“Any suggestions on what I ought to do about it?”

“Be careful, watch your backside. I know that isn’t much but that’s the best I’ve got to offer.”

I finally gathered up those groceries I wanted or needed and we left. Both of us were quiet on the way home. I was trying to come up with ideas of what I should do about what Mrs. Downey had talked about. The trouble was there wasn’t a lot to be done. About the only thing I could think of was an alarm system. I didn’t know how much that would help but it would be better than nothing. I decided that I would call a couple of friends to see what they thought.

When we had the groceries packed in Corey headed for his room to do some homework and practice his drawing. That gave me some free time to fill before I had to start dinner.

I called my friend in the sheriff’s department. After a lengthy discussion with him I had his recommendation of what alarm system might be best and who to contact to get one installed. Both of us couldn’t come up with any other suggestions that might help. He did ask if I still had my pistol and suggested that I come to the range and practice some but neither of us were really convinced that things might come to a point where such a step was necessary. None the less, I decided that perhaps it might be a good idea to take up shooting again. As I’d gotten more involved with the Scouts I’d dropped shooting as they both met on the same evening. I suddenly wondered if perhaps Corey should learn to shoot. 

I went into my room and dug through the closet. Sure enough, right where I’d left it, I found my pistol. I dug out the cleaning supplies and started cleaning it. It wasn’t long before Corey stuck his head in.

“It’s a powder solvent called Hopes. It’s what I use to clean my pistol.”

“I didn’t know you had any guns.”

His face was beaming. I wondered what he was thinking.

“Can I look at it?”

“May, the correct word is may.”

He sort of hung his head. “May I look at it?” 

I’d pointed that particular mistake out so many times I was sure I was beginning to sound like a broken record. He was getting better. Now he only had to be corrected when he was excited. I had hopes that if we both lived for, say, two hundred years I might eventually get it through his head strongly enough that he’d quit making that mistake. In fact I was very proud of the progress he had made in his speaking. 

I handed him the pistol.

“Boy it’s heavy.”

I could see that it was way too big for his hand. “It’s a Smith and Wesson model 29. That’s a forty-four magnum.” In fact it was a five screw model that had been my father’s. Dad had taught me to shoot it when I was about sixteen. Before that my hand had been too small to shoot it very well.

I decided to see if I had any thing that would be a better fit for Corey. I’d inherited Dad’s collection and while it wasn’t that big, he had managed to acquire some nice pistols. I took the drawer out of the gun safe and packed it over and sat it on the bed.

“Would you like to learn to shoot?” 

“Yes! Yes!” He was really excited. I remembered how I’d felt when Dad asked me if I would like to learn to shoot. I think I’d been just about as excited.

I removed the pistols from their cases and laid them on the bed checking each one to make sure it was not loaded. When they were all displayed, Corey just stood there looking at them. It wasn’t a large collection, only sixteen. Most of them weren’t even that valuable. Of course you know the one Corey fell in love with.