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Sultan M Ali
Big Girl
“Ow,” Joe yelled. “Lady, you almost took my eye out,” he said while rubbing it
vigorously.
“You mean your eye almost took my umbrella out,” Lacey yelled back at Joe. “Why don’t you watch where you’re bumping your face,” she continued.
“Are you serious? Am I on some Punk’d show? Do you really believe you don’t at least owe me an apology,” Joe asked.
“An apology? You’re lucky I don’t see you in court. Do you know…never mind, I’m sure that you don’t. This is an Oscar de la Renta, one of ten in existence, four hundred dollar umbrella,” Lacey said with her nose held high and her eyes fixed on Joe as she anticipated a look of surprise and admiration at her four hundred dollar, Oscar de la Renta, one of ten in existence umbrella.
“Sorry to disappoint you lady but I’m really not impressed. It’s going to cost at least that much to have my eye looked at. It’s not even raining, put that thing away,” Joe said while pointing at her umbrella. “You’re crazy as bat shit; you shouldn’t be on the streets,” he went on to say as he stepped away to continue on to his appointment. Before he turned away he watched the lady caress her umbrella and he heard her call it Sweetie.
Joe entered the door of a nearby building and buzzed 10G, “Big Girl,” he spoke into the intercom in response to the person on the other end. The buzzer went off and Joe made his way up the stairs. He had explicit instructions to avoid the elevators.
He got to the tenth floor and found 10G. The door was slightly ajar. Joe looked in and the place was a mess. He stepped in and saw that it wasn’t dirty, it was just messy. There were newspaper sheets strewn about the apartment. He attempted to introduce himself, “Hey, my name...,” he began.
“No names,” shouted the anonymous man at the other end of the room. “At least no real names. What do you want to be called? Something you’ve never used before and you never intend on using again. Like me, today, I’m Big Girl because that’s what I call my weapon.”
“For real? You’re Big Girl,” Joe asked with a smile as he scoped this man of five feet six inches. He must’ve weighed around 135-140 pounds Joe thought.
“Look, I don’t have any time for your antics. You’re here to learn. Where’s your instrument?”
“I don’t have one. I was told not to bring one; that I would use yours,” Joe said.
“That damn Scarpa, always pinching a penny,” Big Girl seethed. “Fine, come over here and get to know her.” Big Girl began to unzip a black canvas case that seemed to be holding an anaconda, “Let me teach you about her.”
Joe was fascinated by the gleams and sharp edges of the large rifle. “She’s beautiful. She’s just what any man would dream of. She’s…,”
“My Big Girl,” Big Girl intervened. “I hear you can really handle small hand-helds.”
“Well, I don’t like to br…,” Joe began.
“They’re bullshit in this business. We specialize in picking motherfuckers off at any range with high caliber bitches like Big Girl. Now show me what you got,” Big Girl demanded.
Joe cradled Big Girl, the gun, in his arms and took a good look at her. “First thing’s first new guy. What’s your name,” Big Girl asked.
“You can call me...De la Renta,” Joe said with a smile.
“Yeah, whatever. Anyway ‘De la Renta’, unsnap that folding stock if you want to see Big Girl in her full splendor then tell me what’s next.”
“I’m going to need a bipod. Do you have one in your case,” Joe asked.
“Very good, yeah, I have one. Find it and fasten it. After that, lock on your day scope. Lock on the suppressor and make sure you don’t insert the magazine until we’re ready for Big Girl to do what she does best. We don’t want some rookie mistake and someone’s eye coming out,” Big Girl said.
“I like this. It feels better than a 9mml, I’ll tell you that much,” Joe said.
“Yeah, these babies keep you out of shootouts. You’re a god when you strike this lightning from a distance. It’s like my father always says, ‘work smart, not hard’,” Big Girl said. “You seem to know the parts of a rifle well enough. Do you think we can graduate you to picking off some of these ants,” Big Girl asked.
“Just point me to the window,” Joe said willingly.
“All right, first let’s find your target. Do you see anyone in particular?”
“No, no one in particular.”
“How about the geezer in the wheelchair? He’s easily on his last leg. You’d be doing him a favor. Maybe that cab driver; nah, too cliché. Check out that guy screaming at his girlfriend. Shoot her. Give him something to cry about,” Big Girl said.
Just then, Joe saw his target. If he never believed in karma, today was a day of awakening. He couldn’t believe his luck, “No, no, no. I have the perfect target,” he said as he set his scope on a twenty-something, high-class woman standing near a department store window, twirling her four hundred dollar, Oscar de la Renta, one of ten in existence umbrellas in the sun.
“You evil son of a bitch! You’re gonna pop that sexy thing right through her umbrella? I like it. Let’s make it happen,” Big Girl said with a bit too much glee. “First, insert the magazine. Next, get your cheek adjusted to the cheek piece, which will allow you to keep a steady sight through your scope. Do you know what the suppressor is for?” Big Girl asked.
“Of course, it’s to silence the shot,” Joe responded.
“Yeah, but it also suppresses the bright flare when Big Girl whispers to these ants. Muffling the sound and the flare of a shot is the number one rule in helping to keep a sniper hidden and effective. Once you lose that edge, you may as well have a 9mml because you’ve placed yourself in the middle of the gunfight. Now, position your scope on your target, relax, feel the shot and let’er rip when you feel comfortable,” he said.
When Joe pulled the trigger, it felt as if he had to put all of his weight behind it. The bullet exited the suppressor without so much as a pfft. Big Girl, the gun, spit the bullet out like a loose tooth. When it hit its target, the high-class woman on the street screamed to the top of her lungs, “Ahh! My Sweetie! Someone shot my Sweetie!” Then she watched, sobbing, as her four hundred dollar, one of ten in existence, Oscar de la Renta umbrella broke into two pieces.
Joe said with complete elation, “My eye feels a whole lot better now!”
