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so smoothly. Just bought it this morning. Couldn’t believe the price. The guy seemed to want to give it away. He had some story about his dog. Couldn’t get rid of it fast enough. Poor old fool. He might have got another two hundred dollars for it if he tried. That’s why I had to get it this morning, before he changed his mind and someone else offered him more.’
    Wayne brought the rifle up to his shoulder and snuggled it into the firing position. ‘There’s going to be a few feral pigs sorry I bought this little firestick,’ he said, sighting along the barrel. ‘Here Luke, hold it,’ he continued, offering the weapon to his son. ‘There’s no ammo in it. What do you think?’
    Luke was stunned. He took the rifle in his hands, felt the weight of it and smelled the gun oil. ‘Fantastic,’ he breathed. ‘Hey, can CT see this? He’s pretty keen on guns himself.’
    â€˜Sure.’ Wayne opened the door far enough to call CT into the back of the panel van, leaving Danielle alone on the footpath. CT’s eyes were still adjusting to the darkness as he wriggled his way curiously to kneel upright. ‘What’s the big supr…’ He changed tack in mid-word. ‘Unreal! A Winchester lever action! Is this yours, Mr Aldridge? I’ve only ever seen one in magazines.’ Even in the half-light, CT had recognised the weapon.
    Luke was clutching the gun to his chest now to support it. How could he possibly hold it out straight from his shoulder as they did in the movies? His father had shown him his various rifles many times, but he had never been allowed to handle one before. He felt very proud to be trusted like this with such a weapon and in front of CT as well. This was great.
    Detecting his son’s difficulty, Wayne Aldridge said, ‘It’s too heavy for you, Luke, I know. Not meant for young fellas like yourself. Here, I’ll help you.’ He grasped the gun halfway along the barrel and brought it to rest on his shoulder. Luke now had to contend with only half the weight. At his father’s instruction, he tucked the thick wooden end, the stock, into the crook of his right shoulder. Then he felt for the trigger and resting his cheek lightly on the top of the stock, peered down the length of the barrel. ‘Unbelievable,’ he muttered to himself. Then gently he sighed: ‘Bang.’
    â€˜ Bang ,’ echoed his father with a grin. ‘More than a bang, Luke. These thirty-thirties are like cannons.’
    â€˜Too right,’ echoed CT who had never heard one shoot but thought he should sound knowledgeable.
    Their trance was broken by Danielle slapping the side of the panel van and calling, ‘Come on, Wayne! The crowd’s building up at the turnstiles!’
    Wayne tucked the rifle inside the blanket and laid it gently on the floor of the van as though it was a baby. Then he remembered something. ‘Oh, Luke, I’ve got something else for you.’
    He let his body snake forward into the front seat, and, still almost horizontal, reached into the glove-box and brought out a magazine. The glossy cover depicted a man in jungle greens toting a heavy rifle across his chest. ‘Another mag for you. It’s got a write-up on Armalites. Great photos.’
    Luke took it, but in the half-light could make out very little. ‘Thanks, Dad. I’ll smuggle this one into the house tonight.’
    â€˜Mum still hasn’t found your hiding-place yet?’ teased Wayne.
    â€˜No, and she won’t, either. Not even CT knows where it is.’ He nudged CT for effect. ‘God help me if she finds them. I’ve got a couple to give back to you, Dad. I’ve been through them cover to cover.’
    â€˜It’s okay, Luke. You keep ‘em,’ said Wayne.
    Moments later, he and Luke and CT burst into the sunlight and with Danielle squeezed next to Wayne, they joined the herd of spectators