Shoot Club

Shoot Club: Shot Club, Part One

Tom Chick | 2 Aug 2007 17:00
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My friend Trevor has just been shot. It's a Saturday and he's on the ground. Mostly we're looking down at him. We don't know what to do in a situation like this. Do you rip off your shirt and fashion a makeshift tourniquet? Do you press on the wound? Do you yell 'man down'?

Jude is saying something about having had CPR training once, but that was five years ago for a lifeguard class that he never finished. Peter went to get someone in charge while Mike grabbed Trevor's limp form by the shoulders and started to drag him, but then realized he didn't have anywhere to drag him to. Plus, I said something like, "I don't think you're supposed to move him," only to realize later in the day that's for people in car wrecks.

So now me and Jude are just standing here, totally useless, while Peter has run off and Mike is kneeling next to Trevor.

Two days ago, Trevor came to Shoot Club with a small silver case. It looked thirty years old and a little too small to hold a typewriter. The clasps snapped back smartly -- there's no other way those things can pop open -- and Trevor lifted the top. We peered inside. Molded foam cradled an old black revolver with a barrel like a wicked snout. It was almost obscenely long. We looked at it quietly, equally fascinated and uncertain. Every one of us wanted to reach for it to wield it.

Trevor said it was a Smith & Wesson .38 revolver. It belonged to his father. He found it in the attic at his Mom's house while he was looking for his old model paints. Trevor was recently laid off from his job and he decided he wanted to start doing plastic models again, which he hadn't done since junior high. He wanted to do a diorama. After digging around in the attic, he found the box of squat little bottles of model paint, as quaint and colorful as a rack of nail polish. But the paint had all turned to dust. That's when he came across the silver case.

"Does it still work?"

"Yeah. I mean, I haven't tried it. But, yeah. These things don't just wear out. It's not like a 360 or something."

"Is it loaded?"

We all held our breath.

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