We did a lot of stupid things out of boredom. There is nothing to do down that river but get in trouble. It had nothing to do with the ways we were raised, and nothing to do with deep seeded issues we had. We got bored and when people get bored, bad things are likely to happen. Look at King David. One bored night, we went to Meijer and scowled around for something destructive and came upon a beautiful BB gun. I had to have it. Will and Joe both had one at home that their mother would keep throwing in the trash, but they would keep sneaking them out. She hated guns.
We bought this little black beauty with a scope and a case of clay targets to go with it and went back to their house. I tore into that gun like Raulphi and loaded it. We decided that the best thing to do was to have a person hold the clay targets as the other would shoot them out of his hand. I didn't account for an uncalibrated sight on my gun and I shot Will's thumb clean off. Maybe not severed, but the BB made a hole in his thumb nail and he writhed in pain. Months later, the BB came to the surface and he dug it out with tweezers. His thumb was never the same. I called him Willy One Thumb.
We ran out of targets, so we decided that we would use the difficult to hit car windows as targets. We hopped into my truck and we would creep up on parked cars and spider out their windows. I used to stall the car out on accident trying to get away fast enough. After a long hard night of doing this, we were on our way back home and I saw the swirling lights. I was pulled over. As we were getting pulled over, I told Joe to hide the gun. Luckily we were using the handgun at the time. He assured me it was well hidden. The cops said nothing of the shootings, but noticed I had a car plate on my truck, making me illegal and the truck needing to be towed. I mouthed off for a while as was my normal routine with the cops and demanded to be cuffed. He would not. He was actually not too bad of a guy. He put us in the back of the squad car and Joe tried to grab his shotgun above his head and got his hand smacked down by a police officer. I then proceeded to wipe boogers on the bullet proof glass. We waited as the cops searched the vehicle and found nothing. I thought for sure we were dead, they were going under the seats and everything. I asked Joe later where he hid the gun. He took the hide it in plain sight route and hid it directly in the middle of the floor under my work apron. I was so pissed, yet relived at the same time. Anywhere else and they would have found it.
Had his youngest boy with us over night the other night. Laura took all the kids to a birthday party that I couldn't go to due to cats. Joe came over and we watched movies that reminded us of Will all night. As Laura pulled up, she called us to help her get all the sleeping kids out of the car. Joe went out there with me and grabbed Connor, Will's boy. As he lifted him, Connor looked at him and said "Daddy?" Joe had to explain to him he was Uncle Joe, not dad. Connor pulled his head back and stared at Joe for an eternity and Joe put him in the bed. Connor began crying. Such a horrible feeling. For that poor kid to have even an instance hope that his dad was back, then have it dashed. Like waking from a dream when all of your hopes and desires came true to find out it was a dream. Pray for these kids.
Still got that BB gun I shot his thumb off with.
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