Finding May

Chapter Eight - New Skill and Nervousness

Hello all. 

Sorry this is a little late I had an orthodontist appointment after school and they told me I need full braces plus rubber bands and I am not pleased at all about that. On the very bright side, I'm going to be winning an award (don't know specifically which one) for academics and I'm very happy about that :)

This chapter is written kinda poorly and slightly boring but the next few chapters have a couple cliffhangers in them ;)

Warnings: guns

Feel free to comment your comments, questions, and concerns down below!

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------May's POV

July 30, 12:38 pm

It had taken May awhile to ask Papa what kind of powers an angel had. Papa just shook his head and gave her a small smile. I don't have my powers anymore, he signed. I lost my angel grace.

What could you do when you had angel powers? May asked curiously.

I could heal people, just by touching them. I could teleport--that was fun.

May's smile faded. Will you teach me how to shoot a gun? she asked shyly.

I don't know about that, Papa replied hastily.

Please? May put on her best pleading face, raising her eyebrows to make her eyes seem larger.

I don't think it's a good idea. Sorry, Button. Another time.

May couldn't recall when, but sometime between last week and this week, Papa had given her the nickname "Button". Sometimes he'd call her "Bumblebee", which was a sign he made up. She loved it. She had never had a nickname before—well, a kind nickname—let alone two from one person. She loved it so much that it almost cancelled out her disappointment for him refusing to teach her how to shoot a gun. It wasn't like she had a burning desire to learn how to shoot a gun; she just wanted to be prepared. It's fine, May signed and smiled.

Papa looked over her head at something. May whirled around to see Dad walk into the library. He smiled and joined Papa and May. Hey, Peanut. What are you guys doing? he asked. That was another nickname May had been granted: "Peanut". He also called her "Cuddlebug", which was a sign he made up because there was no equivalent for "Cuddlebug" in sign language. Uncle Sam called her "Shortie" (again, made up) because he was a lot--a lot--taller than May. She had so many nicknames to remember.

May wants to learn how to shoot a gun, Papa explained, his expression unreadable to May. Dad raised his eyebrows slightly, and then him and Papa were just staring at each other, having a silent conversation. She imagined it was going something like this:

She wants to learn to shoot a gun? Why?

I don't know! Probably because she was kidnapped and she doesn't want it to happen again?

Dad glanced at her. For a second, she was convinced she could read minds.

What do we do? Teach her?

I don't know! What are you supposed to do when your teenage daughter asks you to teach her how to shoot a gun?

Teach her, I guess?

I don't know. I don't want her to accidentally hurt herself.

Cas, she's fifteen, not five.

Dad and Papa both looked down at May. We'll teach you how to shoot a gun, Dad signed. We have a shooting range in the basement.

May raised her brows at that piece of information and followed Papa and Dad into parts of the house she still wasn't familiar with. Dad opened a door that revealed a staircase descending straight into darkness. He flicked a light switch and continued down the stairs. Once they walked down another hall, May found herself standing in front of concrete stalls with targets about twenty feet from them. Behind her, a rack of guns waited.

Dad picked up a pistol, loaded the clip, then handed the gun to May. She stood in one of the stalls, Dad behind her. He guided her arms up and adjusted her hands' postitions on the gun, then leapt over the half-wall to tell her to pull back the slide on top; she did as he said, her hands shaking. Dad must have noticed, because he signed, You're doing great. It's okay if you mess up.

May nodded and swallowed thickly; it was no secret to her or her fathers that she was nervous about this. Dad tapped on the trigger. Slowly, he signed. She nodded and pulled the trigger more slow than Dad probably meant. May jumped as the gun jerked. It took her a moment to realize she had fired the gun. She couldn't see a bullet hole on the target anywhere. Dad walked over to the target and pointed to a spot on the concrete wall about half an inch from the target. May squinted as she realized there was a tiny hole in the wall. A bullet hole. That was very good, Dad signed.

May smiled. For the next hour, she practiced shooting the gun. It fit perfectly in her small hands. She got better, eventually hitting the center of the target.

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EXPLANATION TIME

1. I chose the nicknames that I chose because I thought they were very cute and fitting.

2. I don't really know what was going through my head when I decided to write this chapter. I think I just needed a filler before I wrote the next few chapters.

See ya next week!