A Short Story told in Super 8, and a rant about guns, the NRA and the Second Amendment.
Knox had a great birthday party when he was a little kid. He was seven or eight. He invited his neighbors and friends from school. It wasn’t lots of kids. Maybe ten at the most, which is a lot for adults to handle, frankly. It’s a big deal. It’s a lot of work to pull that together.
I kind of see this story as a silent, color film taken with a Super 8 camera. That’s how I see this in my head. Maybe use those grainy, washed out colors and filmy looking images you remember when you imagine this story as I read it.
Before I show you the story, I have to preface it with something important. Knox had a rule in his family that they didn’t play with toy guns. Guns were tools, not toys, guns are weapons, and they hurt people. They were for hunting and self-defense, and that’s a very serious thing. There were no cops and robbers, and no Cowboys and Indians either. When Knox’s friends were doing that stuff, he went home and waited for the play to change to something else.
Knox had great pals who pooled their resources and bought him a present. They didn’t know about the family rule. No one was mad at them. They were great friends for being so nice.
Ok, since that’s out of the way, here’s the story.
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The big day is here. Knox’s friends are here for his eighth birthday party. It’s so exciting. One of his big brother’s is here. His mom of course. Even his dad took the day off work to be here, and one of the other mom’s is a chaperon to help out, as well.
The room is all set up with some balloons, and some signs. Nineteen-seventies enhanced pastel, Super 8 film memories of bright shirts, birthday hats, cake, parents grinning, and a birthday boy taking it all in.
There are so many obligatory scenes, like pin the tail on the donkey, a game of huckle buckle beanstalk outside, and a game of telephone. You remember telephone? The story starts out one way, and by the time it gets whispered in everyone’s ear around the circle, it’s a completely different story. Always one of Knox’s favorites. People are so odd.
It’s time for cake, and around the table are bright shirts and smiles, sparkly eyes and candle’s glinting and glaring in two dimensions through the Super 8 film stock. The song is sung, and the candles are blown out as smoke fills the dining area. Open the window and get that smell out of here.
Then, it’s time for presents. A matchbox car, an alligator that shoots water from his mouth, a stack of kids books, and, how nice, a sketch pad with some watercolor paints. Three of Knox’s friends pitched in and picked up a cap gun for Knox. A silver six-shooter and a roll of caps. How cool. Knox’s dad and brother look at each other from across the room. They get closer and whisper some things.
Knox’s brother very tactfully reaches over to pick up the toy gun, feigning interest, and sneaks it downstairs to dad’s workshop. Dad is doing something to the gun, and then his brother repackages the toy to be sure the tampering goes unnoticed.
The celebrations continue upstairs, and the kids are into something else as brother nonchalantly places the gun back into the pile of nice things.
Dad gets the attention of the birthday boy, picks up the packaged toy gun, and gestures toward the backyard. Dad wants to go try out the cap gun. Knox joins his dad outside, it’s just the two of them. With brother looking out the window, the other kids are still inside, partying.
Knox removes it from the package, and as he’s raising it to aim, he closes one eye. In slow motion, from the point of view of his one open eye, the gun falls in slow-motion, in pieces to the grass. Pieces of the gun, in disarray, tumbling and turning, and all the screws that have been removed, as well, bouncing softly onto the bright green Super 8 grass, several cast pieces finally come to a silent stop. The image is repeated over and over, from different vantage points.
Knox, holding only the handle of the gun, stares down at the ground, confused. He looks at his dad, who shrugs his shoulders as though he’s clueless.
[Sound] They hear laughter and excitement coming from the house. A game of Telephone is beginning, that’s Knox’s favorite game.
Knox drops the gun handle and runs back into the house to join the game.
Dad picks up the array of metal and drops it into the metal garbage can, closing the lid.
The End.
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