shoot to kill

I remember babysitting this little kid years ago. I think he was only 9 at the time but very close to 10.  He looked younger though cause he was short for his age. And he was highly precocious too.  One time we were playing "Shoot to Kill" in his family's living room. It's not a video game but rather a simple and old-fashioned live action game wherein we each had plastic black guns and we had to try to shoot one another from behind the couch or chair, tv console, or some such obstruction to protect ourselves from bullets. The guns themselves had no "bullets" or projectiles as it were. We simply had to imagine them and react honourably to each shot that we took against one another.
This little boy, who's name was Aaron by the way, was a very mature player, with a good and fair eye for when a shot was a near miss.  Once a shot of mine clipped the arm of his father's large black leather armchair (in both our synchronized imaginations) thereby causing young Aaron to whisk his body quickly back behind the safe haven of the chair and announcing "That was a close one Pilgrim!" echoing words from old John Wayne films we'd watched together.   And I'd yell back "You'd better say your prayers friend!  Because the next one's your last taste of this gun 'o mine!"  To which Aaron retorted:  "Me prayers are fer yoo partner! Yurr time here is as good as done!"  And just as I stood up in plain view from behind the couch (so he could get a clear shot) Aaron bolted up from the chair across the room and fired straight at me, holding his pistol with two hands aimed straight for my heart - only milliseconds before I could properly lower and aim my own gat at him.  The direct hit to my ticker instantly triggered a complete seizure in my left side causing my fingers to loosen their grip on my gun (in slow slow-motion) and the gun to drop point-blankly to the floor (I wasn't left handed but rather Two Gun Gavin and I'd already expelled all the bullets in my right-handed gun and dispensed with it completely).  As I gripped my heart thru my cowboy vest and shirt (we'd been playing for weeks now and whenever I came to babysit I came prepared with leather vest, jean shirt and even black cowboy hat; of course I brought the hat in a bag)....I grunted for breath and threw defeat into my eyes, standing for  a second before looking towards young Aaron in wide-eyed disbelief and squeezing out the following words with guttural finality: "You...!...gott...mee!!! ......Now.....we know...who'zzzz...........best!!!...."   (Famous last words from the John Wayne film Eldorado which I knew young Aaron would appreciate)  At that point my eyes froze with fear and I'd let drop my body over the couch onto the cushions, slowly letting my legs flop over as well, so as not to hit the nearby glass coffee table.

 Once I had finished expelling my last sign of life, young Aaron rushed over and poked me in my shoulder with his gun asking me "Hey Mike, do you think it's ok not to believe in God? I don't really want to. My parents want me to. But I don't like the idea".  

Aaron always asked me unusual and sometimes deep questions.  Like I say he was highly precocious. So when I opened my eyes as my face lay flat on the cushions I turned and looked directly at him. I remember looking at him not with surprise but rather calmly and with a soft smile.  I knew his parents only as friends of my parents and so I wasn't overly familiar with their beliefs and opinions. But I was familiar with the touchiness of beliefs and influencing children. So I took my time in answering him.

I continued to look directly at Aaron as I thought about the question. And he looked at me curiously and patiently. Finally I said:  "What do you think?"

"I think there's no God cause I've tried talking to him and he never talks back. My mom says God is very loving so I think a loving God would talk back to me?  Don't you?"

"That makes sense", I said. "What do you talk to God about?"

"I don't talk to him about anything. Why would I talk to someone who doesn't talk back to me?!", Aaron said, looking annoyed.

"Ahh yes, of course"

"Do you believe in God?" Aaron asked me

"Well, what do you mean by believe...partner?". I tried to keep us in a playful mood.

"Hmmm". He looked at me with a little smile, appreciating not only "partner" but the quality of my question.  He was a natural at appreciating questions.  It was always an inspiring experience to spend time with him.  Although virtual strangers to me, his parents trusted me with his welfare because I'd been talked about in relation to how well I handled my nephews and nieces over the years. I was 26 then and Aaron's parents knew their boy was unusually thoughtful and bright for his age.

"Well, belief is like a thinking of something as real." said Aaron. "Like I don't believe in Santa Claus cause he's not really real. He's just some old man with a white beard and he doesn't have flying reindeer cause reindeer don't fly. Do you believe in Santa Claus?"

"No way", I said

"So do you believe in God?" Aaron asked again

"Well, I believe in Love"

"That's not what I asked you!" Aaron said with a serious tone.

"Darn tootin ya didn't. But You done asked me a difficult question pilgrim."

"I know that. But what's Love got to do with God?  
God is a person or some kind of being I guess. And Love is a feeling."

"Oh ok. Well I never really thought about God as a person or someone I could talk to. But I like that you did. Or do. ...i guess I've thought of God as a feeling "

"Hmmm", said Aaron. "Well then I still want to know. Do you think God is real?"

"Hmmm", I echoed back. "Well, in my honest opinion it can't hurt. I mean it can't hurt to believe that god is real."

"But what's the point of believing in something that's NOT real?"

"Well sometimes it makes living more fun. Like with our bullets. We believe they're real. But we know they're not."

"Hmmm...but that's not the same I think. Cause everybody's so serious about God. We're just having fun."

"True. God is a serious topic to many people."

"Why?"

"Well..."

"I mean if it's not real why not just have fun with it?"

My eyes twinkled a bit as I heard him say that and to myself I said "touche".  Then to Aaron I said:  

"Well, maybe cause many people think god is more real than all the things that are real.....Cause they say that god made all things that are real."  

"Hmmmm, Ok ..but why should it be so serious?  I don't get it."

To be honest talking with Aaron was always a challenge. It wasn't like I'd thought about these things in depth. So I needed time to think. But I wanted to answer him. So I asked him to pass me my gun which was on the floor close by.

"I need to reload", I told him. I took my time reloading, taking imaginary bullets from my imaginary ammo belt and putting each one into their separate imaginary chambers of the plastic revolver that didn't actually have a moving cylinder that you could pretend to load.

Aaron watched me closely and I finally looked up at him as I spun the little gun in my hand and then tucked it in my pants. "Sounds like yooo yurrself is takin' this whole god thang prit-tee darn seriously yurrself.....pilgrim.  Let's see if you can get me again. This time you take the couch".