April took Breeze to a room where a rack held guns of all sizes and shapes, each one polished, well oiled, ready for work. April handed Breeze one after the other to try, making him put them up to his shoulder as if he aimed at something. When one was found to fit, April cautioned him, “When you shoot, fo’git you’ gun. Fasten you’ eyes on de t’ing you want to hit, den pull de trigger. Try em now, son! Don’ squint up you’ eyes! Keep all two wide open. Shootin’ ain’ hard work! It’s for pleasure! You can’ hit nothin’ if you frown.”
Breeze was glad to get out of the silent house with its book-lined walls and rug hidden floors. He took the gun home, but he could scarcely go to sleep for happy excitement over the prospect of going hunting.
Uncle Bill sat waiting in the stern of a small narrow boat, but he got to his feet when he saw Big Sue. While he held the boat steady for Breeze and Sherry to get in, he kept an eye on Big Sue as he warned her please not to touch Breeze, and he kept saying to Breeze:
“Mind, son. Don’ put you’ hand on Miss Big Sue. When a man is gwine a-huntin’, it’ll ruin his luck to let a lady touch him. Be careful!”
He wanted Breeze to sit alone in the bow of the boat, but Sherry considered and then said, no, Breeze must sit beside him on the narrow board seat in the boat’s middle. Uncle Bill shook his head and muttered in disapproval, but Sherry wouldn’t give in.
“No, Uncle Bill, Breeze wouldn’t be safe settin’ in front o’ me dis morning. My gun feels too ready to shoot. I can’ trust em. It’s so quick on de trigger it might miss and aim at his head or his back instead o’ at a duck.”
“Wha’ dat is got you so nervish, Sherry?”
“When my mind runs on some people, I wants to shoot right den!”
“Dat is sinful, son. Awful sinful! I hates to hear you talk so!”