Grandpa's Little Protégé

“C’mon, Lacey! Enough with your whining!”

The old man yelled at the small girl. She looked at him with a tear-streaked face in the middle of an open field.

“But my arm hurts, Grandpa!”

“My arm hurts!” He mimicked her whiny voice viciously. “You think anyone is going to care about your arm hurting in a life or death scenario? The only way to get stronger is to work through the pain. You have ten arrows left and you still haven’t even hit the target once.”

Lacey looked towards the old barn in front of her. It was true that the ground was littered with arrows. Arrows that the seven-year-old girl didn’t have the strength to launch far enough. She took a deep breath and nocked another arrow into her bow. She pulled back and winced. But then she pulled back a little farther. And a little farther.

She loosed the arrow and watched it whiz through the air. She held her breath, hoping. Maybe this one would make it.

But the arrow only flew a few yards before lodging itself in the ground.

“Damn it, Lacey! You still aren’t even close. You can’t even hit the side of an old barn. What am I going to do with you?”

“I can’t do it, Grandpa! I’m too little!”

The tears flowed freely down her face as Lacey picked up and loosed another arrow. She didn’t even try to hit the barn, she just wanted the session to be over. She shot the other eight arrows as quickly as possible, not caring where they went.

“There! I’m done!”

She threw her bow down to the ground and ran off into the woods, sobbing.

After she ran off, her grandfather collected her arrows and put them back in the quiver. When she returned to her grandparent’s old farmhouse for dinner, nothing was said about her earlier outburst. Her bow leaned against her quiver full of arrows next to the back door.

Lacey woke the next morning and quietly slipped downstairs. She grabbed her bow, threw the quiver over her shoulder, and returned to her spot in the field. Her arm was still sore, but she pushed through the pain and shot every arrow towards the barn, but she still didn’t hit it. Then she collected them all and returned to the farmhouse for breakfast.

“How can I make my arm stronger, Grandpa?”

“Exercise. Push-ups, weights.”

“Will you show me?”

The old man smiled and nodded.

For the rest of the summer, Lacey and her grandfather spent several hours a day training to make the young girl stronger. Her grandmother smiled when the two joined her for meals, famished. The old man always wanted a protege, and their daughter was never up to the task. But Lacey seemed determined to make the old man proud of her.

A few days before the visit was over, Lacey woke up early and went outside to practice shooting, as she did every morning. She nocked her first arrow and pulled back. Then, when she didn’t think she could pull back any further, she gave it just a little bit more. She aimed, and let go.

The arrow flew through the air and hit the old barn, close to where the outside wall met the ground. Lacey was ecstatic.

But it wasn’t enough. One time wouldn’t be enough to please her grandfather. She needed to do more.

One by one, she shot the rest of her arrows towards the barn. All but one hit the target. She dropped her bow and ran to the house.

“Grandpa! Grandpa! Look! Come look!”

The old man was already walking towards her. She didn’t know it, but he woke up before she did every morning. He quietly waited and watched as the young girl went out and practiced trying to hit the barn each day. He loved her sense of determination.

He took his time getting to the barn as the girl ran in circles around him.

“You’re getting stronger, Lacey. That’s good. But you missed one. Gather your arrows and try again.”

Lacey stopped her leaps of joy. Trying not to look too dejected, she did as she was told. Tears threatened to overwhelm her for a minute, but she fought through them.

Once the arrows were gathered, she went to her usual spot. Then she shot a glare towards her grandfather before taking five big steps back.

She nocked her arrow and gulped down her despair. She would show him!

One by one, she loosed her arrows. In spite of the fact that she was further from the target, she made sure to hit the old barn with every single arrow.

When she finished, she stood proudly and looked at the barn.

“Good job, Lacey.”

She smiled.

“Now it’s time to start practicing with a real target. But first, let’s get breakfast.”

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Read more about Lacey here:

Lacey is one of the characters in my upcoming novel, Undead Uprising. You can read more about the other characters in the book at the following links.