The pistol fought to buck its way out of my hand, but my tight grip tamed the recoil. Another bang shook the woods, the heavy report dropping more snow from the trees around us, and I shook the white off my head as I indexed the Glock against my chest and looked to my left.
Tori grinned at me as the teetering log down the trail fell from the heavy bullets I'd hammered it with. "Good job!"
"Your turn. But it's a lot further away."
"Yeah, but I've got an optic." Tori took a knee and raised the Wilson Combat AR to her shoulder, fired four rounds in two two-round bursts, then tucked the stock over her right shoulder, angled the rifle across her body, and sprinted forward a dozen yards before hammering her log-target with the remaining six rounds in the neutered magazine.
At the far range of my vision, the log tipped and fell.
I laughed at the sight of the little Latina running with a hunting rifle almost as big as she was, then followed her down the snow-covered trail. Overhead the tops of the naked, gray trees clacked in a gentle winter breeze, but the close confines of the northern Minnesota woods felt almost warm. I jogged up to Tori, and we walked up to her fallen log together.
The log was heavy enough to withstand at least a few bullets, but all ten had knocked it down. Those ten holes were all punched within a four-inch circle. Not bad for having only touched a rifle yesterday. "Nice shooting."
"This is FUN!"
"I'd hope so, you just spent ten bucks knocking that log over. And that's about a three grand rifle."
"Serious?" She held the three oh eight AR out to me like she was afraid to touch it.
"It's a tool, respect it, don't be afraid of it."
"Why would you buy something that expensive?"
"Cuz if I'm gonna have a tool, I want the best. It's for hunting, that's kind of important. And I have the money coming in now, so... Why not?"
We were up at my parents' cabin at the start of the year to celebrate my new job. The tech school where I'd studied had posted an opening for a finance teacher and between my excellent grades and my years in banking, I'd just won the position by the skin of my teeth. I'd start at the beginning of the next quarter, and right now I was splitting my time between the bank and shadowing, learning how to turn practical knowledge into curriculum and inspiration.
Apparently, the tech school cared more about capabilities than allegations, unlike a regular college.
This weekend, I was celebrating.
A new hunting rifle and reworked hunting pistol, expensive burgers on the snow-covered deck with my parents, expensive old-fashioneds -- my rare indulgence in alcohol - and time with my new friend.
I wished Nina was here. My "little sister" had grown more distant with her acceptance as a full-time trauma nurse, but her girlfriend had started spending more time with me, and I was happy about that.
Tori was a very good friend with very good benefits.
She'd jumped at the chance to spend a weekend with me up north -- even if it was with my parents -- and was really enjoying the target practice. This was the longest I'd spent with the little Latina without being inside her, and I wasn't regretting the time spent. Her stories about construction were alternating fascinating and funny, and I genuinely enjoyed her company.
"Why not? Cuz it's expensive!"
"I live in a tiny apartment, my jeep is like twenty years old and paid off, I can live a little." I felt funny and generous. "There's a gun store on our way back, we'll stop there tomorrow. You see something you want, I'll buy it for you."
Tori laughed. "The fuck you will! I ain't letting you spend any money on me!
"Your call, babe."
We traded guns and walked further down the path, such as it was. Deer-trail, more like. We had to constantly duck low under branches, weaving through the undergrowth. The trail opened up to another long stretch, and I posted Tori up at the base, went looking for logs to set up.
Heavy branches were all I found, and the only way to prop them up with mounded snow
I headed back, knelt in the snow. "Ladies first."
"You got it." The branches weren't particularly thick, and it took Tori three shots to get dialed in with the iron sights, and a fourth snapped the wood off.
"Not bad," I commented.
"Yeah, for twenty-five yards. Your turn."
A hundred yards down the path the branch wavered in the scope, and I twisted the ring, tightening the magnification from one to six. I breathed out and pulled the trigger. Click.
Tori laughed again, and it was musical. "Dumbass. Forgot to put a new magazine in!"
I hunted in my heavy winter jacket for a new magazine, replaced the one in the well, and sent the bolt home. Another moment to focus, and the top of the stick rotated off into the brush, simultaneous with the boom. I shifted focus down rationally and cut the branch again, then again.
"I like that one better," Tori pouted as we headed forward to inspect our work.
"Yeah, this one you can't have. This is staying up here in the safe."
I inspected the shredded branch, grinned at the shattered wood. Good purchase. Next hunting season, I'd put away so much meat...
We kept hiking out into the Minnesota wilderness, talking jobs and mutual friends and mutual fuckbuddies, embracing misunderstandings and funny encounters in the wide community of Minneapolis denizens who tried to match up their carnal interests.
The more I learned about my new friend, the more I liked her.
"Over here, look at this!" Tori tugged at my coat sleeve, leading me over to a tight copse of pines. The evergreens were set in a tight ring, needles black against the gray sky, dead growth shed to the ground and red. Tori headed over to a pine at the edge of the ring.
"What are you s -- oh."
Tori put one hand on a trunk, fumbled her belt buckle with the other, dropping her heavy winter pants to her wide-shuffled ankles. She rolled her hips, thrusting golden brown buttocks out at me.
I thought about puking my gloves off, thought better of it, dragged rough rubber texture over her sensitive curves. "You wanted something?"
"Yes please."
I pulled my gloves off, shoved them in my jacket pockets and shrugged my jacket to the ground. "Ask for it."
