✅ My Sister's Problem

110. Your Best Shot

This bonus chapter is dedicated to Clinton. Thank you for your support!

I followed Mum to where a woman with frizzy hair was taking sign ups for the shooting contest. They asked if I had ever fired an air rifle before, and required me to sign a couple of extra disclaimers before I could start. Mum watched, and gave me a big thumbs up as I let her scan the barcode on my bracelet, and stamp it to show that I had taken part in the second of my prepaid events. Ten minutes later, I was standing with a group of others, most of them boys this time. There was a coach in front of us, giving the mandatory safety and rules lecture.

"Standard target sports procedure," he said, after taking care of a big list of how not to hold the rifles, and when not to put our fingers near the trigger. "For anyone who doesn't know, a quick rundown. You stand on the range and fire at a paper target. Five shots, you get to count the total. After that, you collect your target. You can choose to hand it in and count the score, or rejoin the back of the line and get a new target to try again. If you missed the target entirely, you can try again without waiting. But either way, you get at most three attempts, after which you can choose your best score to enter the league. If you got less than three total hits out of three targets, you don't qualify and you leave with a participation medal and a coupon for ten percent off the cost of your next event. Don't be disappointed, pointing a rifle is harder than it looks. For those of you who go through, you'll be grouped with six others. You take turns to fire at the targets, and the lowest score after each round is eliminated. The winner of each group will get a bronze medal, as well as going through to the quarter finals, where the winner will earn silver, or the final to change that to a gold medal. Unsafe shooting or failure to listen to the safety marshals at any point will result in disqualification with no medals and no second chances. Understand?"

I nodded along with everyone else, though the rules seemed a lot more complex than they needed to be. I understood the qualifying rounds well enough; I could take shots at a paper target with circles on it, and numbers in them. When I had finished, I could either submit my results, or try again. Easy.

There were only a few staff members watching the event, which meant that the number of people who could shoot at once was quite limited. It seemed that a lot of the time we were here for would be spent standing in line waiting for our turn. I found myself pacing on the spot, or turning around to talk to the other contestants around me. I wanted to ask if I was the only newbie here; if the others had all done this before. But I couldn't find the words, so I stood in silence until I finally reached the front of the line. It seemed like forever, but I knew that in reality it had probably only been five or ten minutes.

There were eight people at the range. There was something like a counter, with eight guns lined up on the top, and eight people wearing high visibility jackets with the word SAFETY in big letters. I watched as a boy who couldn't be more than twelve pointed his rifle, and fired five shots in quick succession. The mechanism quickly brought his target closer, and the safety guy beside him handed it over. He stared at it as he walked away. I didn't know if he had finished now, or was going to go around again. But now there was a space, and I walked forward.

The marshal asked if I'd used one of these guns before, and made sure I was holding it right. That was all the help he was allowed to give, but I was glad of it. And then I turned towards the range, where a new target had been set up with my number on it. I tried to aim right at the centre, sighting along the barrel of the gun, and squeezed the trigger. It took a lot more force than I was expecting, and when I finally felt it move it kind of surprised me, throwing me off balance. The shot probably went high, because I didn't see the target move at all. I lowered the gun, took a deep breath, and then aimed again. I could do this.