I head back into the main room, a few older men are working out now, then back outside. I feel like going for a run before I shower off. So, I start down the same path I ran before. I pace myself at first, then start to run faster. I just have the energy to run. Like running in a sprint, but not having to slow down or let up because your heart is beating too fast or can’t get enough breath.

I keep running flat out, up and over the hill, then winding around back to the archery range. Jenn is there with another helper teaching the children how to use the bow. I stop to sit on a bench and watch for a while. I would be trying to control my breath, but I am really not sweating or breathing hard. Jenn saw me coming and smiles at me every once and a while, knowing that I am watching her teach.

I had always been taught to hold the bow and draw down on your target. Aiming, then releasing the arrow as you slowly let out a relaxing breath. I guess that would be good for shooting at targets. But that is not how they are teaching the children. They are holding the bow down low, with an arrow notched. Like if you were going to casually walk or sneak around. Then when they are ready to shoot, they bring both hands up at the same time, loosing the arrow as soon as it is at eye level.

As I sit there, I notice people in the woods behind the targets. Jenn does a short wave to one of the men, he doesn’t reply, just turns away. Looks a little like he snubbed her a bit. There is a child, farther off to the left of the men, playing hide and seek with them from behind one of the trees. He’s pretty good, they haven’t found him yet. He notices me looking at him and freezes. He blends well with the green and camouflage colors he’s wearing. As the men get closer, he moves away to the next tree, then fades back into the grove.

Archery class looks like it is ending and Jenn is beckoning me to come to join her as she is putting the equipment back into their places. Seems Jenn is free now because the other teacher is taking the children back towards the main house.

“Learn anything?” Jenn asks in a teasing way.

“Learned to keep my mouth shut” I smile. “Sorry for the other night. I was a little upset being labeled a handicap.” Holding up my right hand a bit to emphasize the blue ID.

“You know that wasn’t me” She walks and bumps into the side of me in a flirting way. Turns and does a little quick step back to where one of the bows is standing. “Come on, let’s see what you’ve been learning and how inept you are.”

She picks the bow out of the stand along with one of the arrows. Holds it towards me so I can see how she lays the arrow on the bow and notches it in the string. Then with a quick motion, she brings it up, drawing the bow at the same time, and lets it fly. It’s not a perfect shot, but it is definitely in the bullseye. She giggles a little and hands me the bow.

I take an arrow, load the bow, and with a much slower motion, draw the bow and let it fly. Jenn is lightly clapping her hands for me and giving encouraging words. “That was a very good shot, Mr. Doug.” The arrow sticking in the target about as far from the center, at the very bottom, as you could get without sticking in the dirt.

I grab another arrow, and try again, and again until I use up the eight that were left. Jenn is all but burst out into full laughter. I have hit the target twice with the rests of the arrows scattered about. I place the bow in the stand and gather the arrows for another round. This time I go a little slower, pausing, then letting the arrow fly. I get six out of ten into the target this time.

Jenn has stopped laughing, but there is still a smirk on her face as she lets me go collect all the arrows by myself this time. Placing the arrows back into the stand, I hand her the bow. “I bet your Elven mother would know how to use a bow”.

Jenn takes the bow, giving me the ‘challenge accepted’ stare. Standing next to the quiver of arrows standing in the ground, she draws one and crouches like she is stalking her prey. Bending her knees about halfway, she starts letting them fly. ‘twang, twang, twang, twang’ as fast as she can move her hand to the quiver, she is letting another one fly. ‘twang, twang, twang, twang.’ Everyone hitting the center mark. Then she stands and draws in the more traditional form I know. Using the red targeting dot with the circle about as big as a dinner plate, ‘Twang’, dead center.

“Hey” I yell out. “Anyone can hit the target using that”. I step up to her and she gives me the bow, grinning all the more. I draw the bow focusing on the target for red dot sight to assist. ‘Twang’ the arrow flies. Not dead center, but next to hers. “Ha!” I exclaim, as I look over at her.

She is staring at me kind of wide-eyed. “Not a zero.” she half says to herself, taking a few steps back.

“Not a child” I reply.

Watching her expression change, I think I might have said the wrong thing, which struck a nerve. She is visibly narrowing her gaze on me. Tilting her head slightly down and straightening her posture, chest out. She takes deliberate steps towards me, one foot directly in front of the other. Why I notice the pointing of each foot, as she starts the next step, I don’t know. Using both hands she gently takes the bow out of mine and places it in its stand. As she turns back to me, she comes closer and gives me a little peck on the cheek. I still haven’t moved. Like a deer in the headlights, I’m not sure if I’m in trouble or not. Thoughts of my wife looking at me, something like that, are letting me know I’m in trouble somewhere.

She turns and starts walking back to the main building, leaving me where I stand. Watching her leave, I notice there is no bounce in her step. It has been replaced with some definitive hip movement. After about ten or fifteen steps, she picks her pace up into a slow jog. Another dozen or so step and she is running down the path. I hear her giggling as the sound fades away. “There’s no place like home, There’s no place like home.” I repeat to myself a couple of times.