Chapter 26: The Secrets of the Caves
In reply to Thomas Pearce (msg # 4):
Tracy whips another stone at the wooden post. THWACK. The stone connects with its target, splintering a couple chips of wood to the ground. He steps back a bit, now at a distance of about forty feet from the post. Removing the last stone from his pocket, he stares daggers at the four-foot-tall stake. Suddenly, he slings the projectile, which pounds into its target with an even louder THWACK. He smiles wryly. Still too easy.
His pockets now empty, Windham walks back towards his collection of rocks a few feet away. Bending down to pick up another set of stones from the pile, young Tracy sees the door to the nearby house open. Mister Jones was watching him again.
It didn’t concern the fourteen-year-old Californian, though. While the wooden posts with which Jones encircled his homestead were quite a distance from the nearby woods, the old man could never catch him if he turned and ran. Besides, Mister Jones never did more than watch him anyway. ~Probably worried I’m trying to steal from him. Smart man,~ Tracy thinks with a slight grin.
Windham fills his pocket with more ammunition and returns to his previous spot. He studies his target. Pockmarked with chips and indents from his numerous throws, the wooden stake had seen better days. In a flash, a look of determination crosses the young man’s face. He steps back farther, now at a distance of about seventy feet from the post. He had attempted this toss many times before, always narrowly missing. Taking a deep breath to steady himself, the young man stares at the small target with intense focus. He fires, sending the rock flying at the top of the post. THWACK!!! The sound echoes across the quiet field, and Windham stands still, eyes-wide, marveling at his feat.
“Hey, boy!” He’s awoken from his reverie at once, the voice surprising him with its proximity. In his shock, he hadn’t noticed Old Man Jones sneak up on him, Colt revolver in hand. In a panic, Tracy turns and runs, quickly putting ample distance between himself and the old man. He darts from side to side, just in case the landowner tried to put a bullet in him.
“Wait a minute, son!” Jones calls out again, this time with more kindness. “You’re pretty good with those rocks. Anyone ever teach you how to shoot?”
OOC:
I chose "Downtime: practices a skill," but I wanted to write it in the past.
Edit: OOC section adding context to Interlude, describing response to prompt.
This message was last edited by the player at 23:09, Mon 28 Feb 2022.