I'm in the redroom at my parents' house, with a number of my family members. It feels like late morning. Suddenly a big guy comes in from the parlor, threatening us, like he's kidnapping us all. He gathers us all together and takes us toward the kitchen to gather up my mom and the rest.

I lag behind as much as I can, because I know where there is a pistol hidden. I sneak over to the window closest to the fireplace, and peek through the blinds. On the sill is the pistol, but it's been broken down into four pieces for safety. I'm sure that I can't get it put together without being noticed - if I even remember how to do it, as it's been a while - and anyway it would make very distinctive gun-assembling noises, I'm sure. So I leave it there.

There are several rifles stashed as if in a gun-rack on the mantel, but they are small and old, and there are no bullets. Just one wouldn't be enough. All together, if all the guns were held and pointed at him, it would certainly be threatening, and he couldn't size them all up - but now I'm the only one in the room, and I have to catch up with the group before he notices. Maybe I can arrange something in a minute.

We gather up the people from the kitchen and come back to the redroom as a group. Everyone sits down. I'm eying the guns, looking for an opportunity. But the guy, who is now smaller and like a combination of my cousin Denny and my friend Monte, has become less intimidating. He's a little crazy, but not a threat. He wants to talk to us about morals, and he wants all of us to keep an eye on each other.