The Justice Game

27

On Christmas morning, Jason’s father woke at ten, had two cups of coffee, and downed a few ibuprofens for his headache. Then he apologized.

“I didn’t mean what I said last night,” he managed, speaking quietly with a thick tongue. “That was the booze talking.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“You’ve got a job to do. Give ’em hell.”

“I intend to.”

Jason fixed pancakes, though his father didn’t have much of an appetite. They went for long periods without saying anything, emphasizing the fact that they no longer had much in common. By noon, it was time to open gifts.

First, they both unwrapped presents mailed by Jason’s sister. Afterward, Jason pulled a small package out of his briefcase.

“Thanks,” his father said, unwrapping it gingerly. The man had big hands, and Jason noticed they shook a little, making the gift opening more of a chore. His dad eventually got down to the single piece of paper at the center of a small box.

“Based on what you said last night, you might want to trade it for another model,” Jason offered.

His dad pulled out a picture of an MD-45, the gun Jason had fired at the shooting range. Underneath the picture was a gift certificate to the Bulls Eye Marksman store in Cumming, Georgia.

“I called the store and found out how much the MD-45 would cost. That gift certificate is for the exact amount. But seriously, Dad, I won’t be disappointed if you get a different gun. You can use that certificate for any gun in the store.”

“I never said they didn’t know how to make a good gun,” his father said. He looked at Jason, a spark of pride in the bloodshot eyes. “I never thought I’d see the day that I got something like this from you.”

Jason opened his father’s presents next. A new briefcase-soft leather. A gift certificate to Office Depot and another to S amp;K Menswear. Jason had to admit-his dad had tried.

“What kind of guns do you own?” Jason asked his father.

His dad perked up at the question and rattled off a list of the weapons in the Noble family armory. Then he had a brilliant idea.

“If you’re going to be the Great Defender of the Second Amendment, it might help if you knew how to shoot a gun. Your mother never let me take you when you were little, and by the time middle school rolled around…” Jason’s dad looked a little melancholy. “Well, we didn’t spend much time together. You want me to see if I can get us into the Fulton County shooting range this afternoon?”

Jason thought about it for a minute. They could sit in the house and risk another argument. Or they could spend a few hours at the shooting range. Maybe he would learn something that would prove useful in the case. Plus, it would serve his dad right-loud noises to exacerbate the hangover.

“Sounds good. I just need to be at the airport no later than eight.”