Monday, 27 August 2012
Tugging the bag open, Lucas reached in and pulled out two swaddled pieces of black velvet, the same as the bag. Handing over the bulkier wad to Daniel they both paused before opening it to look at me. Nodding at them both in a gesture to continue, I watched as they both gingerly unwrapped the folded black cloth in their hands. Revealing his first, Daniel held out a handgun with elaborately engraved metalwork and an ivory handle.
“It’s a .38 caliber revolver.” Daniel said, wrapping his hand around the grip as he opened the cylinder and inspected the empty bullet chamber.
“It’s old.” Daniel said, scrutinizing the gun as he turned it from side to side in his hand. “ And heavy, Silver?” he asked Lucas with a raised brow.
“Could be.” Lucas answered, undraping the inky fabric he held out, unveiling a pair of identical double edged, short blade daggers, about 8 inches in length. Almost matching the revolver, they both shared the same ivory white handle and the same intricate carvings on the dagger’s vane as the gun.
“Definitely, silver.” Lucas declared as he weighed a dagger in his palm. Gripping the hilt he slashed the air in front of him, frowning as he said “The grips too small and the blades to thin. No way was this Marcus’.”
“Do you mind?” I asked, gazing down in awe at the beautiful weapons Lucas held. Wearing an amused expression, he rested the hilt of both daggers in each of my palms.
I thought, feeling my lips twitch as I looked at the knives. Lucas was right, the blade was light and the handle almost too small to grip but as I fisted the hilt, it felt perfect in my hands. Twirling the length of the short blade between my fingers I gently threw it in the air by the blade, catching it back by its white hilt as it fell.
“Whoa.” I heard Lucas softly exclaim.
“Well I guess those are yours.” Daniel said, clearly not as impressed as Lucas was.
“No, I’ve never seen these before. They’re not mine.” I told them. When gramps first had me train with knives all those years ago they were plain, standard daggers used for practice, nothing as beautiful or finely crafted as the ones that now sat comfortably in my hands.
“Obviously they were meant for you.” Lucas said in a soft murmur, holding the revolver by the barrel and offering me the handle.
Holding both hands up I took a step back from him, “I’ve never really been comfortable with guns.” I said cringing as he brought it closer.
“This is Marcus’ gun. Now it’s yours.” Daniel stated with absolute conviction.
“How do you it was his?” I asked him, stressing the past tense even as it caused an ache in my chest.
Closing the distance Daniel came to stand beside me, so close I felt a lot shorter than my 5’6 as he towered over me. Leaning into my shoulder with his, Daniel bent his knees as he brought the gun to eye level and showed me the back of the handle. There were more than a dozen initials carved into the white ivory, one after the other in a row going down. Looking through the carved signets, the last two initials gripped all my attention. M.L. I figured stood for Marcus Latro my grandfather, followed by another pair of etched letters, S.L. Sarah Latro, my mother.
To stunned to respond to Daniel’s find I grabbed the gun from his hands, running the pad of my thumb across the letters as I stared at them and thought.
Holy Crap. My mom was a hunter.
“Uh……October?” I vaguely heard Lucas call my name through my haze of confusion and about hundred other potent emotions.
“Yeah” I answered without looking up from the gun.
“You might want to see this…..”
“What!?” I snapped.
Glancing up at Lucas with an impatient stare, I watched as he held up a small note between two fingers. Flipping the crumpled paper over to its other side. I felt my entire body go still as I read my name, scrawled across the note in faded black.