Wrecked farm equipment with webbings of dead grass in the open fields of Lazy River Estate … the overhanging foliage … more than twenty kilometres out of town on the old Dubbo Road was the pistol club. I had only been a few times. Luke told me I could get a One Month Membership. They all said I showed potential. There were three ranges: a couple for the .22 calibre and one for the smaller air pistol. It was fun shooting targets every Sunday. 5 bullets. 4 rounds. Timed. One day some random guy walked in … paid his membership and went outside. He loaded the gun … put the barrel in his mouth and blasted out the back of his skull. But that was not the reason I never went back. I just lost interest. I never saw Luke much afterwards either.