Chapter 79 - The Third Wheel (2/2)

Miguel holds the rifle like an expert, like he has done this every single day all his life. He flicks his head and runs his fingers through his shoulder-length hair, like a rock star with a weapon. Then he holds the rifle aloft, aims at the balloons, then pulls the trigger.

Nothing happens. No balloon pops. Confused, Miguel looks at the rifle. ”This rifle is faulty,” he says to the gallery host.

”Oh, no, rifle's super-fine,” host says, then he takes the rifle from Miguel. He points the rifle at one of the balloons and shoots it. He balloon explodes. ”See?” Then he hands back the rifle to Miguel.

Miguel sighs. This doesn't seem to be going well in his favor. He makes sure the rifle has pellets, then he goes through the same motions: he aims, pulls the trigger, but nothing happens. The balloons sway to the wind, as if mocking him. A little pissed at this point, Miguel starts shooting; he empties the load upon all the balloons, yet none of them pops. In the end, he hands the rifle back to the host without a word.

The gallery host snickers. ”Bad day of shooting, eh?” He refills it with pellets. Then he notices Gabriel standing by the side. ”What about you? Won't you try it?”

Gabriel shrugs and still doesn't speak.

”Just for shits,” the gallery hosts insists, handing Gabriel the rifle.

Without another word, Gabriel takes it.

”Be careful,” Miguel says, and even tries to give him some tips. ”Just try to aim a little higher than the target.”

If that's effective, why didn't you do it, Gabriel thinks. But he nonchalantly aims the rifle at one of the balloons, he pulls the trigger, and it pops!

”You've hit it!” Claire exclaims in amazement!

”Maybe you're lucky,” Miguel says.

”Oh, my God!” Claire exclaims. ”That's amazing!”

Gabriel tries to downplay it. He simply shrugs.

”Maybe you're really lucky,” Miguel says.

”At your rate, you might clean me out,” gallery host says.

”What do I have to hit to win that big teddy?” Gabriel says, finally breaking his short-lived vow of silence.

”Well, that pink balloon in the far left, the one in the corner. That's the target. If you hit it.”

”That should be easy,” Gabriel says.

”Oh, no,” gallery host says. ”There's a reason why that balloon pays the top prize. There are factors, you see. The wind comes from that corner, and it tends to influence the bullet. And there's the angle of the wall, et cetera. So…”

Gabriel simply shrugs, ċȯċks the rifle, holds it up, aims it, then pulls the trigger.

”Maybe you're really, really lucky,” Miguel says.

”Yeah,” gallery host says as he accepts the rifle from Gabriel. ”Some guys have all the luck.”

”Where are the prizes?”

”Oh, so eager to pillage a poor shooting gallery, eh?” gallery hosts says, as he starts piling on the counter all the toys Gabriel has won: one Peppa Pig stuffed toy, a couple of dinosaurs, and the grand prize: a teddy bear half the height of Claire.

Claire's face lights up as Gabriel gives her everything. ”I can't hold them all!” she shrieks in delight. Truly, there's something about this amusement park that seems to have made Claire so happy, like a child unleashed. And the happier she is, the more she glows beautifully, to the point that even the gallery host stares at her.

”She's really something,” the gallery host says, smiling despite his loss.

”Yeah,” Miguel mutters, gazing at Claire happily accepting Gabriel's prizes. ”She's truly special.”