Get the Gun

David Nemzoff

we can DM in the comments, and it will be pretty private

When I was young my mother… no, wrong start. Let me try again…

When I was  young we went to a conservative Baptist Church. And, like many of those kinds of churches, it had a Youth Group. And the Youth Group organized activities.

Well, one year the Youth  Group, when it was electing leaders, made a very odd choice. They elected two girls… two very shy girls. One for president, and one for vice president. These two girls then began to organize the activities for the entire year. (To this day I think this is why they were elected. They were shy, naive, but very organized. No one else wanted to do the work.)

Now, I mentioned that they were naive, right? And organized? Well, they organized the entire year and one event they organized was a ‘come as you are’ breakfast party. The idea was that they would sneak into everyone’s house, wake them up, and bring them to the party. At a conservative Baptist Church. Did I mention they were rather naive?

But that part isn’t the part that is in this story.  Yes, it was embarassing, but not this story. Anyway, so they organized the entire year and then went around and telling everyone. Except since this was to be a suprise party (and, yes, they were suprised) they couldn’t tell the youth themsleves, they had to tell the mothers.

Now, it so happened that the youth pastor and his wife happened to be staying at my house. Their house was being constructed. Anyway, so they were staying at my house. And these girls decided not to tell them either. Yeah. Naive.

Anyway, so they told my mother… months ahead of time. And she… forgot.

Now, you also have to know this. My mother sleeps very, very, very lightly. If an ant clears his throat down the block, she wakes up.

So, cometh the morning of the party, and these two naive girls drive up to our house and stop. My mother is already awake, of course, because a car stopped in front of our house. But she went back to sleep. And then these girls snuck up to the front door and tried it. Which it was locked, of course. Because (see above) my mother had forgotten.

And my mother was awake, again. Someone had tried our front door, after all. But she wasn’t quite sure, so she just laid there, nervously, listening.

The girls then decided that of course, my mother would not have left the front door open, she would have left the back door open.

Now, full disclosure, our gate squeaked. And my mother knew that squeak. So when the girls got the gate and opened it, she was up!

UP! Fear, fire, foe!! She knew that squeak! The moment had arrived! All of her vigilance had paid off! All of those years of sleeping lightly had finally paid off! Burglars were here, and she had heard them!!

So she turned to my father and tried to wake him. Fat chance. No luck. And the burglars were coming!!

So she thought furiously and went to the window. Throwing it open, she yelled, “Jim, Jim,” (that was my father’s name) “Get the gun!”

Now that put the cat amongst the pigeons. My father woke up (slowly), my brother and I woke up (wondering who Daddy was going to shoot), and the youth pastor’s wife was violently shaking him. After all, Jim was going to shoot someone!

When all got a bit quiet in the house, and everyone was listening… a voice was heard from the yard. “Please, Sir, don’t shoot! It’s only us.”

And when we looked out the window, there they were, prone on the grass, their hands above their heads… the Youth Group president and vice president… quivering all over.

NB My father didn’t shoot them.