Bullseye!

1

When I stood outside on my porch and waited for Brody to show up, I counted the cars passing by on the highway. One. A good thirty seconds would pass. Two. Three. Another ten. Four. It was very entertaining, especially during the quarantine days. I remembered how strange it was to see no cars pass by when we were all forced into lockdown because of the Coronavirus. As everyone said, it was Groundhog Day over and over again with those days. Gas prices dropped to the lowest I’d ever seen them and while it was great that gas was that low, at the same time, there wasn’t anything to do in the world besides sit in the house and watch TV or stare at the ceiling in boredom.

I know I did that a lot, going along with calling friends and family to check in with them. However, there was one day where a spark lit up in my mind that I should edit that book draft of The Hypnotist I wrote in 2019. For a long time, I was pressured by Brody and many other people to publish all the stuff that I do. So that was my project while I tried to survive the fifteen days to slow the spread, which had turned into months.

I started in April and am just about done with it towards the end of May, where we are now. As the world began reopening, I was getting less time to work on it. I wanted to get the book completely edited before my birthday so that I could say, “Hey! I published a book at seventeen years old!”

Brody’s dark green Jeep appeared around the corner from the main road and he zoomed down, parking on the other side of the street in front of my house. He sat in there for a moment, looking at his phone, then got out to wave at me. I noticed that he’d let his blonde hair grow out a little bit, which is strange, considering he usually kept his hair very short - typically like a standard army cut. However, I knew better but to blame the lockdown order for closing barber shops.

I waved back.

Brody approached and we greeted with the usual clasping of the hands and closing in for the hug. I always called it the “bro hug,” like I do in my book, The Hypnotist. It’s a special ritual to me because while I’ve only known Brody since 2016, it feels like we’ve been best friends our whole lives. Guys usually call each other “bro” or “brother,” but Brody is one of those where I actually mean it when I say that.

“How are you doing?” I asked. “I see you’ve gained a little weight.”

“Same to you. You need to be running with me more,” Brody answered back.

“Haha, yeah, you’re right,” I said, smirking. “Come on in.”

I let Brody walk in through the front door first and I followed him, shutting the door behind me.

“Hey Brody-bro,” Mom said from the kitchen.

“Hello!” Brody greeted.

Mom smiled and walked out.

I led Brody down the hall, took a right, and my room was the last one on the left in my small house, past my little brother, Cole’s room.

Walking in my room, a giant dresser stood next to the window facing my large backyard and my tiny bed was placed next to it. My bed was getting so small that my feet would be hanging off of it. Above it was a bunch of photos hanging on strings of all the good times I had with friends and some family vacations from recent years. Most of them had me, Brody, and another one of my best friends, Alex, who I also featured in my upcoming book.

On the other side of the room was the window facing the neighbor’s house and a blue rocking chair stood in front of it. It was everyone’s favorite chair to sit on. A desk and a library were also included near the doorway. The library consisted of tons of comic books, Stephen King novels, and fun Deadpool bobble heads.

“So what you been up to?” I asked.

“Oh, nothing much. Just working and sitting around.”

I nodded. “That’s fun.”

“What about you?”

“I’ve been working on the book still. It’s looking awesome.”

Brody lent his hand over for a low five. “Nice. I’m glad it’s coming along well. What part are you on now?”

I clapped his hand. “It’s the part where you, me, Alex, and Gage do the sleepover and we get kidnapped by The Hypnotist. It’s a pretty spooky scene.”

“Hmm, I think you told me to read a part like that. In case you were wondering,” Brody pressed both of his hands together and pointed his fingertips at me, “I DID read the chapters you gave me. I even left you some comments, like you asked me to.”

“I saw. You did a good job. Did you like them?”

“Yeah,” Brody chuckled, “I do have to say, however, in that one chapter when I threw a comic book through a window - my Mom would have not really acted that nicely if I did that.”

“Oh really?”

“Oh yeah, she would’ve been furious.” Brody took his seat in the rocking chair and scratched at his leg before sitting back.

I took my seat on the bed. “So what do you want to do?”

Brody shrugged. “I don’t know. I don’t care what we do.”

“Hmm, well we can always go shoot some arrows. I can give you some more lessons.”

Brody nodded. “Sure, I’m down. You might have to give me a refresher though if you’re going to teach me stuff.”

I smiled. “You may have a bad memory, but I know you can at least remember how to shoot a bow.” I walked over to my closet and pulled out my bag for my bow and Brody’s barebow recurve he usually shoots with. “Let’s get out there.”

2~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Brody stood in the grass, turned away from me, aiming from the tip of the arrow at the big bale leaning against my shed. What was great about him shooting right-handed was that since I shoot left-handed, we can face each other when we’re firing. It made things a lot easier when it came to demonstrating my tactics. Brody took his shot and ended up hitting right above the target, piercing the shed with a loud, bang! The third one.

“Goddammit,” Brody growled. He threw his fist down in a fit.

I continued to set up my bow, an Olympic Recurve, on the concrete patio.

An Olympic Recurve is just a fancy way of saying a recurve bow with all kinds of added equipment. Weights, a sight, plunger, and limbs and such adjusted so I can get accurate shots. It’s really competitive in 4-H, which is an organization for kids and teens to participate in different clubs. I, obviously, was on a shooting team and I participated in many tournaments for over five years, even qualifying for nationals a few times.

“You doing alright over there?” I asked.

“Yeah,” Brody called back.

Sure.

Brody pulled back to take another shot, but this time, the arrow flew and hit the target very high, almost missing again. “Hey, have you started watching Avatar yet?” he asked, turning to look at me.

I groaned. "Talking about this again?"

“Bro,” Brody dropped his arms loosely. “You need to at least give it a shot. It’s good.”

“No,” I replied dully again. “I don’t care about anime.”

“Bro, come on. You gotta watch it. You have to at least give it a shot.”

My heart said yes, but my mind said no. Yes because it would make him happy and no because I didn’t really like the art style of anime. To me, it was really bizarre.

I grabbed my built bow and approached Brody, then said one last time, “No.”

Brody shook his head disappointedly then turned back around to continue shooting.

I grabbed an arrow from my quiver and stood with my feet shoulder width apart, letting out a breath. The arrow slid on the riser, snapped on my knock, and slowly, I pulled back, letting my back muscles do the work of pulling the thirty pounds back. I anchored right under my jaw, the string touching my nose, aimed at the center, and let the thread slip from my fingers. The arrow sliced through the air, straight into the X. Bullseye. I looked at Brody, who glared at me in jealousy.

“You have all that shit on your bow, so it’s not really fair. Plus, the sight,” Brody said.

“It probably isn’t fair, but I have shot against barebowers who shot better than me and I have the Olympic. You remember the form, right?” I set my bow on the grass.

“Yeah, just watch. You’ll see me - right in the center.”

“Let’s see it then.” I looked down to see Brody’s feet were just a little too far apart. “Bring your feet shoulder width apart.” I kicked at his toes, trying to get them to push closer together.

Brody followed commands and grabbed an arrow from his quiver. He slipped it on the riser and knocked it to the string. Pulling back, I noticed that he wasn’t tugging all the way fully.

“Pull all that weight back. Try to get your shoulder blades to touch,” I advised. I walked around and looked down where his eye was looking. Brody’s arm was a little high, so I grabbed his elbow and pushed down to straighten it out then turned to make sure his shoulder blades were touching, or at least attempting to. “I want you to be pinching the shit out of my fingers with your shoulder blades,” I said, pressing my fingertips on his spine. “You’ll get a cleaner shot.” When it felt like Brody’s shoulder blades were going to pinch my fingers off, I stepped back and watched him do the rest.

Brody drew the string a little further and let go of it. The arrow cut through the air and punctured lower into the red zone, three spaces above from the center.

“Nice shot,” I commented.

Brody shook his head.

I tilted my head in confusion. “What? It was a good shot.”

“I didn’t get in the center.”

“Your form was better though. I’m impressed. Do it again. Shoot two more and we’ll go pull arrows.” I walked around to face him again.

Even though Brody said he wasn’t happy with the shot, I still did see a hint of a smile from the encouragement. I felt a smirk creep on my face too. Even if he was doing bad, there was no room for making fun of him in my mind. I was always trying to help Brody be better.

Brody grabbed another arrow from his quiver and knocked it on, letting out a sigh.

“You got this.”

Brody pulled back, taking the time to aim, which I knew was practically at the grass. It’s a barebow thing. After a few seconds, he let go, the arrow hitting just above his last shot by half an inch.

Brody growled and dropped his arms. “Okay, this is bullshit.”

I crossed my arms and sighed. “You’re just going to complain about every shot you take, are you? I honestly think you’re doing a great job. Impressing me, anyway.”

Brody’s eyes widened and he gave a guilty smirk. “Well Connor, archery is not my thing,” he said sassily.

“Let’s go pull arrows and take a little break and talk a little bit. How’s that sound?”

“Alright.” Brody set his bow down.

I followed to help him pull his arrows then we walked towards the patio to sit on the chairs next to each other. It was quiet for a moment as I watched Brody scroll on his phone.

“You excited for graduation?” I asked, adjusting in my seat.

Brody put his phone away. “Do you know if we’re having one?”

“I-well, I don’t know actually. Technically, it would’ve been this weekend, but obviously with COVID, it’s not going to happen soon.”

“Huh, well we should keep our hopes up. Maybe they’ll get one worked out.”

I shook my head. “I don’t have faith in it. They’ve cancelled everything else, they’re probably going to cancel this. I’m tired of all of it and it’s ruining everything.”

“Yeah, I know. It’s ruined things for everyone.”

“I was supposed to go to nationals this year for archery, but they cancelled it three months out from when it was supposed to happen. Now I have to requalify for this season to go next year.”

“Yeah, it sucks, but this will eventually go away hopefully at some point soon.”

“Probably not for a while, I think. Senior night, my opportunity to talk about my stories at that thing for school, our Senior Breakfast, Senior Trip. Things we probably won’t be able to do this year.”

“Yeah, I feel you.”

I turned to look at Brody. “You know something, though?”

“What?”

“I did learn something from all of it.”

“What’s that?”

“I think the little things have become the big things this year. Moments like these where we get together to casually hang out with no plan but just to hang out and go find some fun, you know? I appreciate these times just the two of us hanging out because the conversations are a bit deeper. That can just be me though, considering I’m someone who enjoys making deeper connections.”

“Yeah, I see what you mean. I guess I can look back at things that way now that you bring it up.”

“All those calls we did during quarantine to check up on each other really meant something to me. I think calling sometime every week is something we should keep doing. I like checking in with you.”

“Sure. We also have some things to look forward to this summer,” Brody said, nudging at my shoulder. “You know, you got the firework party and we can go workout too. Not too much to do, but we can make the best of it before college starts.”

“Yeah, remember the first run at the park we did after quarantine? I couldn’t even make it halfway.” I chuckled.

“Yeah, you obviously didn’t workout for a while I saw from that day.”

“That’s because I sat around doing nothing for two months straight and ate too much fast food.”

“That’ll do it.”

“But you get what I mean. It seems all the smallest things this year have really come to be the best things, but really, to me, it’s always been the best moments. It’s honorable just hanging out with you even before the pandemic. The hell we’ve gone through this year just made it even more valuable because it took all of that away and I was really sad. You’ve always been a brother to take care of, to me. ”

“Thanks, man. That really means a lot.”

I smiled. “I just felt I had to say that and I know guys don’t usually say things like this to each other and we have our own other special ways, but, I love you, bro. Sorry if I made anything weird.”

Brody nodded. “Hey, same to you, and I understand. It’s honestly not weird to say it every once in a while, but you’re right, we got our own ways.”

I stood up and nodded, clapping Brody’s shoulder. “So do you want to get back out there and try and hit the middle again? I’ll walk you through every step because I want to see you do it. You know you want to do it too.”

“Sure,” Brody let out a sigh. “Let’s get it.”

“You enjoy it do you?”

“Of course. I’m just better with the shotguns. Like I said, archery is not really my thing.”

“You still need to take me to do shotguns sometime.”

“I know, we’ll find some time.”

I strode over to my bow and picked it up; loading an arrow onto the dirty thread. First taking a shot to show Brody how it’s done from the pro. My arrow flung and stabbed in the red, right above the X.

“Nice,” Brody said.

I looked at Brody and smirked. “Your turn.”

Brody picked up his bow and got in his stance, feet shoulder width apart, and followed through with the advice I gave him previously.

“Your first shot after you pick up the barebow when you put it down is usually not the best. Just get an idea of where you need to aim,” I suggested.

Brody squinted his eyes, adjusted his head position, then let the string fly. The arrow stabbed right into the blue, five spaces high from the center.

“Okay, just aim a little lower now. Also, I may be giving you some shit, but I don’t recommend squinting your eyes.”

Brody grabbed another arrow then put it in the riser. He let out a sigh then drew back like I would, anchoring under his jaw, and once again squinting his eyes in sincere concentration then letting them open, a calmness flooding his face.

“Very nice form,” I said. I anticipated that he would make the shot where he wanted - and where I wanted it to be as well. However, even if the form is good, it still could be off because the follow-through of the shot matters just as much.

Brody took his shot and the arrow traveled in slow motion through my eyes like an action scene in a movie. It flew straight into the center, hitting the target with a thump. Brody turned to look at me. He squatted and turned the back of his hands towards me like he was a big ‘ol macho man. “Boom,” he said.

I raised my hand in the air and Brody gave it a good smack. “Bullseye."