When Josie entered the storeroom, she was taken a back to find it filled with guns.
Rosie and her dad had been discussing something and clearly disagreed.
"Oh, shoot! You didn't close the door, did you?" josie's dad said, visibly upset.
"Sorry, Dad. I forgot," Rosie replied awkwardly, offering a sheepish smile.
"Hey, what are you two doing, making candy?" Josie asked, surprised by the sight.
Both of them burst into laughter.
"What's so funny, huh?" she demanded.
"Come here, dear," her dad beckoned.
She walked over, and he began to explain the guns lining the walls.
"You see, I used to be a weapons maker," her dad said.
"What does that mean, Dad?" she asked, confused.
He smiled and pointed to one of the guns attached to the wall. "You see this gun? I made all of these," he said proudly.
There were guns of every model—pistols, sniper rifles, launchers, and rifles—each one hanging neatly on the wall.
"Wow, that's so cool, Dad!" she exclaimed, amazed.
"Cool, huh?" he replied with a grin.
"Then why did you quit? It sounds like an awesome job!"
"Because of your mom. I had to quit," her dad explained.
"Why did you hide the guns in the storeroom, Dad?" Rosie questioned.
"Oh, you've already asked so many questions. Shouldn't you be asking about the topic here?" he teased.
"Why, Dad?" Josie pressed.
Her dad chuckled.
"Oh, what are you doing here, eating candy?" Josie asked playfully.
"Ahh!! Forget about the candy. I'm here to learn how to create weapons and guns," Rosie replied.
"Since when?" Josie inquired.
"Since I was about four years old, I guess."
"What?! That long?" she exclaimed.
"Dad, why do you only teach her and not me?" she asked, a hint of frustration in her voice.
"Because she seems genuinely interested in it, and you don't seem to care about that kind of stuff," her dad replied.
"You're just making excuses!" she retorted, getting angry.
"Okay, then tell me what you want," he challenged.
Josie smiled and pointed to the wall behind her dad's back, where their finest sniper rifle was mounted.
"What? Why do you want that?" he asked, surprised.
"Because I want to be a sniper!" she declared confidently.
Her dad and Rosie were taken a back by her response.
"How do you know about snipers?" her dad asked, genuinely curious.
"When Mom tells me bedtime stories, she always shares some kind of war story. She talks about how snipers shot from far away and how the enemy fell," Josie explained, animated.
"Oh, that's enough!" her dad interrupted, stopping her mid-sentence.
He was concerned about what stories she was hearing at night and felt uneasy about his wife's storytelling.
"What happened, Dad?" Rosie asked, sensing his discomfort.
"Oh, nothing. I just thought I might give you my sniper," he said, trying to change the subject.
"What? Dad, you can't give her something dangerous!" Rosie exclaimed.
"But I have a condition," her dad replied.
"What condition?" Josie asked, intrigued.
"Come with me," he said.
Josie, Rosie, and her dad walked to the park.
"Wait here," he instructed, heading toward a tree about fifteen feet away. He climbed the tree, tied a piece of paper to a branch, and then came back down.
"You see the paper on the tree branch, right?" he asked.
"Yeah, Dad, I can barely see it," Josie replied.
"To get my legendary sniper, you have to retrieve that paper by breaking the branch with your sniping skills. But you have to hit the tree from where we're standing now."
"What? Dad, that's too much! No one can hit that branch from that distance; it's twelve to fifteen inches!" Josie protested.
"Fifteen feet," Rosie corrected her.
"Yeah, fifteen feet," their dad confirmed.
He knelt down and put his hand on Josie's shoulder. "Listen, Josie dear, people out there can shoot a small rock from five kilometers away."
Josie was stunned. "So what do you say? Want to give up?"
"No, I will get that sniper, no matter what!" she declared fiercely.
"Then good luck," her dad said, smiling.
Josie pulled out her slingshot and aimed at the tree.
"Okay, Josie, we're leaving now. Come back before nine, okay?" Rosie reminded her.
"Gotcha!" Josie replied, focusing on her target.
As Rosie and her dad walked away, Rosie asked, "Hey Dad, why did you leave her there? If she goes near the tree, it could be dangerous."
"Are you saying Josie will cheat?" he asked.
"No, that's not what I mean. It's just—"
"You don't have to worry about her. I believe my daughters can achieve anything if they try. I let Rosie give it a shot, and you have to try too."
"What?" Rosie exclaimed, surprised.
"You're going to make a small sniper gun that can reach the distance of that tree where I tied the paper and help her win. You can do it, right?" he asked, smiling encouragingly.
Rosie smiled back. "Yes, of course I can!"
"Then what material are you going to use? And just to be clear, I am not providing you with any equipment, so choose your materials wisely."
"I already have one in mind," she said confidently.
"Yeah? What is it? Bamboo?" he asked, intrigued.
"No, it's wood," she replied.
"Wood?" he said, taken aback.
"Yeah, I'm going to make a wooden gun capable of sniping!" she said, brimming with confidence.
To be continued...