A Gun Is Always Loaded

A gun is always loaded, his daddy used to tell him solemnly when they were out hunting. So don’t you ever take your eyes off it, Billie Joe, you got me? And then he would ruffle Billie’s hair and smile.I got you, Daddy. Billie would say in his pre-pubescent little boy voice, trying not to laugh because it always tickled him when his Daddy ruffled his hair.

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Billie only ever brings it out at night, when everyone else is asleep. He turns off all his lights and takes it out from under his bed with cautiously slow movements, careful never to point the muzzle towards himself, careful to never touch the trigger.

Whenever Billie felt the cold black against his skin, a feeling of contentment flooded over him. It was nice, really, all alone in the dark, stroking the gun and feeling it warm up under his touch. No one knew he had it, not even Mike. Sometimes he wanted to tell Mike about it, but he didn’t know how he’d react How would he even bring it up?

Hey, Mike, yeah, I found this gun in an alley a while back and sometimes I lay down at night and hold it. Sometimes I have dreams, too, dreams where -

No. He wouldn’t think about the dreams right now. They scared him.

But the gun was warming up, slowly but surely.