People Shooter #9

 

After so much hollering and the gun shot ringing in his ears silence reined. The entire evening was too much. Guns had once been fun, but now they were scary. He knew one thing for sure: Once a trigger is pulled, there is no going back. Not like on a computer game. Real life didn’t come with a reset button.

He fixed his gaze on the mountains.

As the squad slowed for a red light, both of its occupants were lost in their own thoughts and not talking. McShuster’s mom waited until noon before her first barley pop. She liked to point out her house was clean as if it meant she could drink all she wanted. Then she’d remind him there was always tomato soup in the cupboard before she disappeared out the door. She always said food would mess up a good drunk and then laugh. A boyfriend who ended up in the house was usually introduced to him if he wasn’t sleeping, so before long McShuster made sure he appeared sound asleep. He didn’t want to risk it. He had gotten elbowed in the face once when things heated up and it scared him. If his mother was an angel, she was a drunken one for sure. His mom liked to say heaven was nothin’ but a bar serving free drinks all the time.

“I’m sorry.” Tears flowed but McShuster couldn’t wipe them away so he had to tolerate them. “It’s a good deal that you love Megan. She a nice girl in that there school. You treated me good … even if you’re a cop.”

McShuster pressed the side of his face against the window and just wanted to fly away like a prairie falcon. Fast and sure. He had watched them plenty on the Front Range. He’d soar above the mess he was in.

McShuster carefully exhaled and leaned forward. “Sometimes folks have enough bad days they turn into bad lives. I hate being alone, even around people. I need’da friend, you know, who can laugh at my messed-up jokes, not at me. I want to look at my mom and see somebody else. Officer Tracy, you hearing me? I want to go places where dyin’ don’t offer no relief. The worst of it is I always feel like I just can’t figure it out. How to make the good things happen. My money, in the bank, is my escape.” He shrugged his shoulders. “That’s why I gotta work. I’ll do what I have’ta do for you, officer. I tried though. Please. Can ya know that? I really did—try.”

“Okay … I don’t know now. Are you suicidal? Is that what you mean now?”

“First time you didn’t use your ten-four cop lingo.” He smiled despite the pain or because of it. “You could’ve liked me in another time. Who knows? I’m glad Megan didn’t go and get hurt none. She could’ve. You wanna know sumtin? Seed got me to understanding algebra. Seed going to teach. You know that?” The light changed but Officer Tracy forgot to go on the green. She was frozen in place behind the wheel. Then the phone rang.

“Yes, this is Officer Tracy … Hang on, I’m going to put you on speaker phone. Yes, go ahead.” She started for the station once the light turned green again.

“Tracy, listen up. That Godamn kid we nabbed ain’t our shooter.”

“Ahh … okay. I don’t—” Officer Tracy froze.

“Tracy. Our shooter is in the E.R. Noah whatever. They got into it and the gun went off. That’s when we nabbed the kid you’re with. He stopped everything from going down.”

“He didn’t shoot?—”

“We got the surveillance tape. Um, your boy jumped the bad guy. He grabbed the gun and it went off and they both went down. Your kid made it back to his feet till we planted him.” There was a long pause. “He grabbed Noah Williams. They got into it over the TEC-9. That firepower in a crowded gym is not good. You hearing me?”

More discussions between the individual thought to be the suspect when the story takes a swift turn with the phone call. This story was up for an award but lost out because one of the judges didn't feel that police officers make mistakes during the course of an unfolding investigation. Look, they do, I was a cop for years and can attest to that fact.