Storytime: Papa and the gun
2003-07-01, 10:35 p.m.

Storytime.

Papa and I have always been the best of friends. We were the best a grandson and a grandpa could possibly be. Too long ago, Papa moved to Florida where I wouldn't see him as much. This was when I was a very little kid and was really sad to see him go.

So, 1999, we went to Disney World, and in the hotel, they decided to let me stay down there until Nona and Papa drove up north. Which they did, a month later. SO I was there for a month that year. 6th Grade summer.

SO the next year, I FLEW down. Alone. All alone. Me and I met this other dude named Steve, who is unforgettable because I met him when I flew down there...ALONE.

So while I'm down there, anytime, I LOVE playing with Papa's guns. He has awesome guns, and I have some pictures. I know how to handle a gun. I've never shot his guns though. I have cousins on my mom's side, hunters, and I've shot a 12 guage shot gun, my FAVORITE gun of all time. I'm pretty good WITH guns, I just don't know what all the different kinds of guns are.

Well, we were playing with his guns after he got a phone call. My dad.

7th grade was my worst year. My worst year of school, causing it to be the worst year of my life. Grades were actually so terrible. Really bad time.

Papa sat me down and talked to me. After about half an hour, I said "Yeah, I understand."

And left.

With a bullet.

I held the gun up to my head. And pulled the trigger, crying. I was in a room all by myself. Then I looked at the bullet. I could have ended it there, putting Papa in a position just to say that I shot myself.

At that time, nobody would spend over a couple weeks grieving me. I was nothing then.

It wouldn't have effected people that much then. Nope.

It would now, I'm afraid.

Nona came downstairs into Papa's basement and asked to go shopping. I went along, to get away from Papa. Papa, giving me his "unsuccessful dumbass" look.

So I go shopping, and Papa comes in the store.

Papa was going through Chemotherapy at the time, and wasn't allowed near crouds of people, and it was really scary to see him in the store.

He came in and grabbed my shoulder really hard and said to Nona, "We're gonna go have a talk."

This is where he gave me that look like "You're a serial killer, and I'm bringing you into the police."

He brought me into his car and talked to me, "I can't find my Smith and Wesson."

That's a kind of gun. A big handgun. I was playing with it, and that's the one I wanted to shoot myself with. He thought I had taken it into the store. PAPA thought I had done that. This is where I learned he really didn't trust me. I'm untrustworthy, and it ruined our relationship.

I had just put it really far back into his little cubby. He didn't see it. He sighed with relief as I showed him.

He couldn't find it, its his gun. Its expensive, he takes real good care of them. It was my fault. I should have let him put it away.

I didn't let him reload it because we were playing with it all week. And we were going to get them out again.

That's my story. That's when our relationship ended. The next time I saw him was up north, and I visited him again for spring break in 8th grade.

I drove down with a friend, Seth.

Seth recently burned down a barn here in Williamston. Haha.

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