October 7, 2014--Midcoast: L.L. Bean's Gun Shop (Concluded)

In the gun shop, with Rona in tow, I moved moved more confidently than earlier toward the rack of 22s. "See, these are higher caliber," I said, feeling at least knowledgeable enough to point out the difference between them and the 30-30s. "But they're not for me. They're for real hunters. Not someone like me who's interested in target practice and small game. You know, your groundhog."

"To tell you the truth I'd rather trap and release him. After all--"

"I agree. I was just thinking about Ben and Willy needling me."

Standing by the rack of 22s was a salesmen with Nick on his name tag. "Can I help you with something?"

"Not really," I stammered. "We're just browsing. I mean I am. Rona's my wife. She just came along for the ride. You know, moral support." I couldn't stop myself from chattering on.

"My wife likes guns too," he said, looking very serious. "She carries."

"Carries?" I asked.

"A weapon. Concealed. We live out in the woods, deep in the woods, and there are all sorts of pretors back there. Both the four and two-legged kind." I thought I saw the beginnings of a smile. "She has a license of course. I don't want her not to be armed. She needs to protect herself."

"Well, we're, I mean I'm thinking about," I emphasized the thinking, "about maybe a 22 or something. I had a BB gun when I was a kid but don't know anything about weapons or guns or whatever." I was sounding silly to myself.

"We can take care of you," he said, gesturing at the long rack of 22s. "We have quite a collection here." He sounded proud, proprietary.

"These all used? I mean second-hand? Previously owned?" He nodded. "Why's that? I mean, don't most people want new guns?"

"Not anyone who knows about 'em. Unless you want to pay thousands. As they say, they're not makin' 'em like they used to."

"That's sadly true about a lot of things," I said.

"I'm not happy about that either, and a lot of other things," he said, shrugging. "But that's another story for another time because you're here to think about a 22." I was happy he picked up on the fact that I was thinking not shopping. "But I'm happy to help, to answer any questions you might have. Take as long as you like. My time is your time. The little lady too." For the first time, looking at Rona, he smiled.

"Well, so as not to waste your time, if I wanted to buy one--and I mean only if--could you sell one to me? I'm from New York and was wondering--"

"No problem at all," he said, sounding cheery. "We sell 'em to people from all over. Where you from in New York."

"Manhattan," I said.

"In New York City, right?"

"Yes," I said, trying also to sound cheery.

"Then I'm afraid we have a problem," he felt deflated. "We can't sell 'em to New York City residents. Or to folks from Washington, DC, and a few other places. Sorry about that," again he shrugged. "The law's the law. And I respect that no matter what I feel about it."  He began to cough and sneeze. "I have this darn cold," he said covering his nose and mouth. "Don't get too close. I think I'm past being infectious but want to be sure--"

"I appreciate that," Rona said. "Are you taking anything?"

"Naw. Nothing seems to help. Only time."

"We won't be keeping you then," I said. "As I mentioned, I was just thinking and now that I know I can't well--"

"But you can. You really can. It's in the Constitution. It's our right. All you need to do when you get back to the city," he sneezed again and Rona took a step backwards, "is get one of those forms you need to get approval for a firearm. Just follow the instructions and turn it in. They'll check you out and I'll sure in a week or two they'll say it's fine. As long as you never committed a felony or anything."

I shook my head, "Only a few parking tickets.

"And you're only wanting a 22. Not an Uzi for God's sake." He seems a little disgusted thinking about this, my rights and, I was sure, New York City and what that represented to him, living armed in the woods.

"You know, after I finished with the service--I was in for three tours--my wife and I lived in the city. For 18 months or so. I'll bet that surprises you." In fact it did but I didn't say anything.

"I was working for a private security company. We loved it there. Best year-and-a-half of my life." I was, to say the least, not expecting this. "We lived in Washington Heights and whenever we had any free time took the subway downtown and enjoyed the restaurants and movies. We even took in a few Broadway shows. But Sarah, that's my wife, got pregnant and we both felt Maine was a better place to raise kids. Her folks had some land they let us have. About 12 acres. We built a house and then moved up here. The rest, as they say, is history."

"I agree," Rona said, seemingly nonplussed, "Maine feels like a better place for children."

"But we try to get back to the city for a long weekend every year," he said. "Maybe the next time we're there I'll help you with that application."

With that he laughed and wheezed at the same time.

I whispered to Rona, "I can't wait to tell Willy and Ben about this."