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Colby entered the precinct and looked around. It was larger than he’d expected, his only previous experience with law enforcement was when he’d had to go to Sheriff’s Wilson’s office for his statement regarding his part in stopping the groups of thugs who’d attached the ranchers.
Sheriff Wilson’s office was in a building next to the courthouse, it was him and Emmet, and Emmet’s wife, who was hardly ever there on account that she was the one doing most of the patrols since Sheriff Wilson’s was getting on in age. Soon she’d be replacing him, everyone said.
This was bright and spacious, and loud.
The woman behind the counter to the side noticed him and looked him over, smiling. “Can I help you?”
He tipped his hat to her as he approached and handed her the registration form he’d printed and filled before leaving home to get his permit to carry Magnum. Back home, the permit had been his eighteenth birthday present, not that Colby had been without Magnum since receiving it. Sheriff Wilson didn’t care if someone carried a gun, so long as they didn’t cause problems with it, and everyone knew the Rowlings went armed, no matter their age.
She looked him over again after glancing over the form. “ID?”
He handed her his driver’s license.
“You’re a long way from home,” she said, studying it
He nodded. Too far.
“What brings you to these parts?”
“School.”
She nodded and looked over the form, more carefully this time. “I’m afraid I can’t accept this, son.”
“Why?” Had he made a mistake? He’d double-checked everything.
“You’re eighteen.”
He tried to understand what she meant. Or course he was eighteen, his license showed that. Did she think he’d tried to pass himself off as older?
“You have to be twenty-one for a carry permit in Pennsylvania.”
He stared at her. She couldn’t be serious. “Really?”
“I’m afraid so.” She handed him the form and license back.
“Exception?” He did his best puppy eyes impression.
“I’m sorry son,” she replied. “If you want I can give you the form for a hunting license.”
He nodded as hope rose.
She looked through a drawer. “With it, you’ll be able to carry your firearm while hunting in the woods, you’ll have to go online to find out where the open parks are and what the hunting seasons are this year.”
“The city?”
She chuckled, handing him the form. “Sorry, son. They’ve yet to make the city a hunting ground. Where are you going to school?”
“Harker,” he replied dejectedly.
“Is that new? I know all the schools around here.”
“Finley.” He looked at the form, hoping for something that would give him a chance to take Magnum out of the safe in his backpack.
“Oh. Right, I heard about it, I didn’t realize it finally opened.”
He nodded. Staring at the paper but no longer seeing the text. All he saw was Magnum, locked up for the rest of his life. Denied the freedom accorded to everyone else.
“Is there anything else I can help you with?” she asked.
“Please?” he offered her the carry permit form again.
She shook her head sadly. “I’m sorry, there’s nothing I can do about it. You have to be twenty-one.”
He sighed heavily and left. He took his phone and texted his father as he walked through the crowd of pedestrians. Another thing that was different from back home was how many people there were. He’d have to go to Houston for anything this crowded.
I wanna go home.
What’s wrong? You just arrived.
I can’t get a permit. Magnum’s going to be stuck in the safe.
You can take it out in your room.
What about the rest of the time? I can’t be without Magnum for a whole day.
You’ll survive, Col.
He typed ‘
I hate you.’ Stared at it and erased the message.
It’s not fair.
I know. We’ll arrange a shoot-out when you come for thanksgiving.
That’s months away.
Only 2, you’ll manage.
He put the phone away. How could his father not agree with him? Who in their right mind left their gun behind? Not that he could have taken it into class, but with a permit, he’d have been able to wear it after he was done with the day. He hoped his roommate didn’t have a problem with Magnum. Colby wasn’t sure he could deal with some anti-gun fanatic after today. He was happy to respect someone’s desire to go unarmed, but only if this respected his to—
Someone bumped into him hard.
“Sorry,” Colby said, which was immediately followed by the
thunk of something metal and heavy hitting the concrete. Only then did he realize his backpack was no longer over his shoulder. He turned and less than two feet from where he stood a man in his forties was trying to pull the backpack up. “That’s mine,” Colby stated, irrationally angry someone had tried to steal Magnum. If it had gotten damaged in the fall, he might have to—
The man ran off, leaving the backpack there.
With a huff of annoyance, Colby slung it back over his shoulder. If he had a permit, he could take Magnum out, make sure it was okay. Now he was going to have to worry until he got his room assigned.
With a sigh of resignation, he brought the Share-Ride App and ordered one to go to the academy
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