sunflower field

"..."

"My dear mother, bless her heart, at one point in my youth put a long hand on my shoulder and told me Heysel, sweet tadpole- I must have been sixteen, seventeen? But that certain nickname endured and I'm certain she'd call me the same now, was she to meet me- sweet tadpole, you must learn one thing. Understand it well.

There will come one day a point in which someone will be cruel to you. And they will mean to be further cruel to you with word and action. And you can try to be courteous to them with word and action to make them desist. You can, should, consider that path first. But thing is, my daughter, listen: most of them won't hear you, because they won't want to. Even if you say please or sorry. Even if you say don't or stop. They won't care, because their only interest will be hurting you.

This is why you must learn how to use steel.

And she put her revolver in my hand, and it felt- heavy! Past its weight! And she said, this in your palms is what all listen to when they won't listen to you. You need to learn how to use this. To prevent cruelty. You don't need to pull the trigger. Most cases won't require that action. But you need to learn how to take it out fast and keep your hand steady, so to make it clear that you are being very serious about the choice you're giving them: life, or death. And I was tall but she was taller and her voice had been so calm and in that moment she seemed to me something like the sea. Like an ancient god. I have no clue of what.