Page 55 of The Family Across the Street
‘Put the gun down now!’ One voice, a woman, loud and strong.
‘Put the gun down.’ Another voice. ‘Down on the ground.’
‘You don’t understand,’ says Patrick as Logan gives in to the need to close his eyes.
The sound of a single gunshot pierces the air.
Logan feels his body floating.
He hopes Debbie is feeling better.
He hopes the promised cool change arrives.
He hopes he gets to live.
46
Gladys
She took the children into her house and made them sit on the floor in front of the television set. But she wasn’t able to stay with them. She needed to see what was happening.
‘Watch them, Lou,’ she commanded. He nodded, his face pale with shock. The gunshot had echoed through the air, terrifyingly and certainly confirming that something had been wrong all day.
‘My mum,’ wailed George, ‘he’ll hurt my mum.’
Lou reached out for the boy who instead cuddled his sister, holding on to her tightly.
‘Stay here, George, I’ll see, I’ll go and see, just stay here.’ She dashed out of the room and her house, her heart pounding.
Now she is looking down the road, waiting for the police. Doors have begun to open, people emerging from air-conditioned homes into the street, drawn by the sound, curiosity dragging them from the safety of their own walls.
Go away, Gladys wants to shout at those she can see, but will they listen? Will they believe her?
The police finally arrive, parking slowly, without a care in the world. A woman constable gets out of the car with a smile on her face, angering Gladys. A man climbs out as well, his hat in his hands, a sheen of sweat instantly appearing on his face. Neither of them looks terribly concerned. Gladys explained what was happening on the phone and she had expected, had wanted, lights and sirens and urgency from the police.
‘Quickly, quickly!’ Gladys shouts, hurrying them up. ‘He has a gun. I heard a shot.’
‘Why don’t you explain…’ begins the constable, holding up her hands to calm a hysterical woman. Gladys wants to grab the woman and shake her. Don’t you understand? Why don’t you understand?
‘Gladys, Gladys,’ Lou shouts, frantic panic in his voice, ‘the boy has run away, he’s run away.’
Gladys darts away from the police, back to her own house, to see what Lou is doing.
‘What?’ she says.
‘He’s run away, the boy, he left.’ Lou has gotten himself into his wheelchair and wheeled himself to the front door of their house and is struggling to get up.
‘But you were supposed to watch them, oh Lou,’ she cries, knowing that he did what he could.
Gladys turns back, runs down her front path, her lungs burning with the unwelcome activity. The policewoman is still standing there, just waiting. ‘There’s a child… a child,’ she stutters, unable to get the words out. She didn’t see George come past her but he must have gone back into the house, he must have.
‘Okay wait, just…’ begins the policewoman.
And then there are two more shots.
Two more shots.
The two constables run towards the house, down the side, disappearing from view. They know what they’ve heard.
