She gazed up at me with those big brown eyes of hers. Her cheeks were flushed with excitement. I worried that she’d forgotten how to breath.

“Can I really?” she managed to gasp.

I looked into her eyes and hesitated, then gave a slow nod. “I’m not going to make you do it. But if this is truly what you want to do, then yes you can.”

She let out a squeak and said, “I want to. I want to.”

I moved her into the circle of my arms so that her back was against my left bicep. I could feel her lithe body trembling with supressed eagerness.

I uncovered it and said, “There you go.”

She was breathing in short, gasping breaths. Her eyes were wide with a mixture of excitement and fear.

“Try to control your breathing,” I said. “I promise that you won’t get hurt.”

She reached out a single, trembling hand and then hesitated.

“It’s so big. It’s much bigger than Jimmy’s.”

I’d been watching her hand but now I turned back to look her in the eyes.

“Jimmy showed you his?”

“Yeah, but it was a lot smaller than that.”

I cleared my throat but decided not to respond.

“Can I touch it?”

“If that’s what you truly want, you can touch it.”

She reached out her fingers and stroked along its length with her fingertips, her touch as light as a feather.

She let out a soft giggle. “I didn’t touch Jimmy’s. He showed it to me, but then he put it away again. I knew I wasn’t supposed to do anything with it.”

I gave a wry grin. “I’m glad to hear that.”

After a moment of her stroking it like that, I slid my hands down the outside of her wrists so that I could hold the back of each of her hands. Then I guided her hands into position so that she was holding it properly.

“Grip it firmly,” I said quietly. “But you’re not trying to strangle the life out of it.”

Once she had the idea, I slid my hands back down her forearms and rested them on the outside of her elbows. This allowed her to be in control but still allowed me to gently guide her movements.

“Can I make it go off?”

I exhaled slowly. “Okay.”

I guided her next movements with gentle touches to her forearms.

“Now, take a breath in. Then slowly exhale and squeeze.”

There was a moment when the entire world seemed to pause and wait.

Then a bright flash flared, lighting up our faces as the powder ignited. The antique handgun jumped in her hands as it spat the bullet at the paper target. The sharp crack sounded clearly despite the earmuffs we both wore.

She squealed in delight and bounced in my arms even as she placed the gun back on its shelf.

“That was so so cool,” she gushed. “I didn’t even hit the paper thingy, but it was so cool.”

She spun in my arms to face me and hugged me tightly.

Then she stepped back enough so that she could look up at me, her bright eyes looking hopeful.

“Can I do it again? Can I make it go off again?”