Sunday, August 14, 2011
Deb pulled the RV into the left lane and clicked her blinker. The Trailer Park looked meager from the highway. It had been her home for 30 some years. The left turn arrow turned green so she ambled forward and turned into the park.
This drives like a pig!
Her trailer was near the entrance and she started to pull in front of her spot when she saw that the door was open to her home, light spilled out and an anonymous looking Crown Victoria was parked in front.
Her gut instinct kept her driving to the back of the park where a cul-de-sac would allow her to turn the RV around without backing and filling. When she had turned it around she stopped, stared at her home, and then decided to turn the headlights off. She put it in park and looked in the mirror at an asleep Moira and Tonka. Both snored softly and did not stir. She sat for a moment and stared.
Something is wrong – very wrong.
She unbuckled, and slipped back into the RV. She opened her purse and took out the pistol Mr. Spiers had given her.
Should I call the police?
She drew in a deep breath.
No, I don’t want the questions. Not with Moira.
She cracked the entry door open, softly exited, and then slowly closed it so not to wake Moira or Tonka. She waited, her breath misting in the cold air.
No one can know we have left.
She listened for a moment.
No sounds from inside the RV -- good.
The engine noise, though not loud, masked any sound she might have heard from her trailer at this distance. She shivered.
I'll get Daddy, and Moira's movies, and we'll go.
Gravel crunched beneath her feet as she walked slowly towards up the drive. She kept the gun to her side as her Father had taught her years ago. He had been stern but good.
Never point a gun at someone unless you plan on shooting them – and if you shoot at someone, shoot to kill!
The RV engine noise receded behind her as she walked faster.
Was that yelling?
She started to slow jog towards her trailer.
SHOTS – THOSE WERE SHOTS FIRED!!
She took off running. She was about a hundred feet away when a figure burst out her door, lurched and then turned back inside and fired another shot.
Oh my god! What is happening?
The figure stumbled to his car, got in, revved the engine and took off. Lights were flickering on all over the trailer court. People opened their doors and peered out as she ran up her stairs.
Her father lay in a pool of blood, the house tossed about him. She ran to her Father’s side and checked his vitals. Her medical training clicked in.
Pulse weak, breathing shallow, lots of blood …
He tried speaking “I fought a good fight baby … I …” his pulse flattened and then disappeared. His service pistol was still in his hand, warm from just being fired. Swede’s lungs let out a long rattle. She had called too many victims in the ER – she knew.
Deborah cried out. She sobbed and cradled her father.
Why? Why? Why?
After a long moment her intense training in the ER grabbed her, her mind disassociated from her grief, and she began to rapidly assess the situation.
What to do? What to do?
The police and rescue would be here in minutes.
Moira, I have to get Moira away from here.
She lightly kissed her father’s brow, sobbed and then got up.
I’m so sorry Daddy. I’m so sorry.
She went to her hall closet, withdrew her med bag and her emergency kit. She kept her pistol ready.
I have to go Daddy –- I have get Moira away.
She looked around, fought her emotions, and then left.
She ran as fast she could back to the RV and to the driver side door. Her neighbors clutched themselves as they watched her run.
Oh my god! What are they going to think?
Tonka was bouncing around the cabin, furious in his barking, anxious to get out to help her.
It doesn’t matter – I have to get Moira away. I have to go now!
“Easy boy, let me in.” She said through her tears. She had to shove the large dog back as she crawled in. Moira was crying.
“It’s going to be okay. It’s going to be okay.” She heard her voice telling them.
She threw her bags into the passenger seat, slipped the RV into gear and screeched out of the cul-de-sac. Moira wailed and Tonka barked as Deb drove through her grief. She got to the highway and realized she did not have her lights on.
They killed Daddy trying to find Moira.
She turned the lights on and sobbed as she drove west.
Posted by Jake at 8:30 AM