by Kim Beck
He sat at the table and stared at the gun, lost to memories. His buddy had returned from the kitchen but without any oatmeal raisin cookies. He remembered looking up from the Hot Wheel Tracks at the toothless smile, gray baseball hat with a big white 'K' pulled low on his forehead. In the next instant he recalled the words, "hey guys, look at this," as a chrome gun flashed, red spurted, the hat tore off and the little body thudded to the hardwood. He relived the fireworks sound of the gun, the hot smell that filled the room. He remembered screaming Kyle's name.
Kim Beck, author of Under the Devil's Club, lives in Kenai, Alaska, where moose nose the window, bald eagles perch atop the swingset in the backyard, and thankfully, the winter this year has been mild.