Guns

(1992 Memoirs)
At the top of the stairs of the Kilmer house, called by some "the laundry," he kept his guns, about half a dozen shotguns, always loaded, standing leaning in a corner.  "Oh, Clarence," my aunt would wail, "please take those guns out of the house.  The children--"  "Yup, yup," he'd say.  And then in a grumbling, menacing tone, "You boys, leave those guns alone.  Ya hear?"  "OK, OK" the three would say.  "Oh, Clarence," Aunt Hattie would wail.  And there they stood at the top of the stairs, loaded, as before, as long as I was aware.