Page 96 of Rigid

“What’s a .357 magnum?”

“It’s the shell size. Like a .38 special, only longer.”

“Oh.”

“It’s what they call a double action,” I explained. “All you do is point it, and pull the trigger. There’s no safety, no switches, no nothing. Just point, and pull the trigger.”

“Okay.”

I pointed to the left side of the pistol. “Push the lever on the side there, by your thumb, and tilt the pistol to the left.”

She did as I asked, and the cylinder fell open.

“See that all five holes are empty?”

She looked at the cylinder. “Uh huh.”

“It holds five bullets, that’s all. With all five holes open, it can’t do anything, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Push the cylinder closed.”

She closed the cylinder and looked at me.

“Point it at the refrigerator and pull the trigger.”

“Are you sure?” she asked.

I nodded. “It’s unloaded.”

She squinted, and slowly squeezed the trigger. When the pistol dry fired, she jumped.

“It’s that simple,” I said. “Now, it’s got a 2” barrel. You can’t really aim it, so I’m not going to explain all of that to you. If you ever have to use it, you hold it in your hand just like you are, and you point it, just like your pointing your finger. If you can point your finger at something, you can point the gun at something. Make sense?”

“Uh huh.”

“Point it at the sink.”

She pointed it at the sink.

“Point it at the trash can.”

She did the same.

I turned up my palms. “It’s that easy.”

“Here are the rules about guns.”

She set the gun aside, and looked at me.

“Never, under any circumstances, point a gun, any gun, at something you aren’t 100% comfortable shooting.”

She swallowed heavily, and then nodded. “Okay.”

“No matter what.”

“Okay.”