a crunchy target

A voice sounded over the radio. "What's the target?"


I held down a button as I said, "Twelve o'clock. In red." I narrowed my eyes in on the innocent victim and felt a trickle of uncertainty. What if it doesn't go to plan? What if she finds out?


"Got it. Is it a go?"


I took a deep breath. There's only one shot I'll get today, and I'm going to take it. "Yes," I heard myself say. "In three... two... one... Now!"


A tennis ball shot out of nowhere, knocking the target to the ground near where I hid. I looked around and ran out to take what was - is - mine.


"Hey!" a sharp voice ran out. "What are you doing?"


"Abort, abort!" I saw Daniel toss his walkie talkie before he ran off upstairs. Knowing I couldn't run for it, I sighed and faced my judgment.


"I'm hungry?" I offered as explanation. My mom just glared at me as she tore the cookie bag out of my hands.


"You're going to ruin your appetite for dinner! Go upstairs and wash up." She marched me to the bottom of the stairs and waited for me to go all the way up. "Wash your face," she reminded before turning away.


I grumbled as I watched her head dip down and heard her chewing something crunchy.