Avi jogs over to us. "What's going on?"
"Amy here says she's not a gun person?
"You'll be shooting a target, Amy. Not people," Avi says.
"Yeah, I get that, but... I'm afraid of the kickback, or sidekick or whatever you call it, and the noise. I have sensitive ears."
"It's called recoil." Nimrod rolls his eyes. "Gefen, you deal with your girlfriend."
"We're not dating anymore!" I call after Nimrod as he hurries off to help someone else.
Avi lifts the earmuffs off my ears. "No need to shout. Can we be friends today?"
"Sure," I say, putting the earmuffs back in place. "Friends."
Avi crouches. "Lie down."
I lie on the ground and rest the rifle on the sandbag. Avi checks the weapon, making sure the bullet chamber thingy is empty.
"There's no recoil in dry firing," he assures me. "Now move the lever from safe to semi. Make sure it's never on auto or you'll empty that magazine with one trigger pull."
I move the toggle to semi. Then I double and triple check it to make sure I didn't accidentally move it to auto. That would not be fun.
"Now settle the hand guard of the weapon into the V between your thumb and forefinger on your non-firing hand." He gently takes my knee and slides it up so it's bent. "Bending one knee gives you more support. Aim at your target through the sight guide. "When you're ready, put your finger on the trigger."
"Avi?"
"Yeah?"
I look up at him. "I'm embarrassed to say this, because I really am against killing and guns. But I'm kind of getting a rush from this. I feel powerful with a gun this big in my hands."
"Wait to say that until after you sleep with it tonight."
"Huh?"
"Soldiers sleep with their gun every night they're on base or on duty. Come on, stop stalling. Aim at your target, control your breathing, and squeeze the trigger after you exhale."
I look through the sight thingy, aim at my paper target, and pull the trigger.
"Good. Do it again."
I keep dry firing until Sergeant B-S comes around and tells us all to put the rifles on safe mode.
We're told to fill our magazines with ten bullets and push the magazine into the rifle. "When you're ready, switch to the semi position and fire one at a time until your magazine is empty," Sergeant B-S instructs us.
I get back in position and line up the sights with my target, but I'm too nervous to shoot. I hear everyone else firing their guns on either side of me. Listen, disasters happen to me wherever I go, and I can't keep random thoughts from running through my head. What if the M16 misfires? What if the shell of the bullet hits me when it's ejected and burns my scalp as it lands on my head? What if the recoil dislocates my shoulder?
"I can tell you're thinking too much," Avi says, appearing beside me again.
He lies on the ground, his body next to mine. I have to remind myself not to think about Avi and focus on the gun.
"I'm afraid of the recoil."
"You're lying down, so you won't feel so much of it. Line up your target," he tells me.
I line up the paper that seems way too far away for me to hit with a bullet less than the width of my pinky finger. "Done."
He places his fingers over mine. They're strong and soft and I wish my body wouldn't tingle with excitement from him being near me. I'm so afraid that I'll never be able to fully get over him.
"Ready?"
I squeeze my eyes shut and control my breathing. Unfortunately, my pulse is racing. But that's because Avis body is pressed up against mine. His strong hands on mine remind me of the times he touched me intimately. I try and put those thoughts out of my mind as I say, "Ready."
"Exhale. Hold it... " His finger presses on mine and the rifle fires. The recoil definitely pushes my shoulder back, but not as hard or as bad as I feared.
"You okay?"
I pick up my head, now just a few inches away from Avis. "Oh. My. God. That was awesome!
"Just a few minutes ago you said you weren't a gun person."
"I'm not. You know, when they're used for aggression or war. But just shooting a target is so cool."
Avi scratches his temple as if he isn't quite sure how to say what he's about to say. "Umm... I hate to break the news to you, but you didn't actually hit your target. You hit Jessica's. Her bullet went left of her target and ended up in the haystacks."
I lean back and watch as Jessica brags about hitting her target. She analyzes her precision with the range binoculars as if she's a sharpshooter.
"Oh. Maybe this time I shouldn't shut my eyes when I pull the trigger."
"That'd probably help your aim." I can see him trying to hide his laugh with a cough.
Avi watches as I aim again. I control my breathing and shoot.
"Did I hit it?"
He smiles at me. "No. It went low. You overcompen-sated for the recoil too much by lowering the barrel. Try again."
I keep firing until my magazine is empty. I hit the target a bunch of times. I still think guns are dangerous and scary. But in a controlled environment like this, it's not so bad.
After we shoot two more magazines full of live ammunition, and I've finally learned to hit the target consistently, we're taught how to clean and care for our weapon. Because we're just trainees and not real, full-time Israeli soldiers, we have to hand in our magazines. Unless we're on the range, our issued rifles won't be anywhere near live ammo.