She Is Risen (She Is Risen: The Gun Control Case Studies) (28 page)

            BANG! BANG! BANG!  Hammering sounds break the
silence in her comfy home, causing May to jump backwards on the couch.  She
stares at the front wall of her home in stunned awe, listening to the familiar
laughter of the teenagers who harassed her the other day. 

            “Come on out, freaky lady!” One young man yells
over the laughter.

            “We want to see you naked again, beef jerky!”
The other boy shouts immediately afterward.  “Did you have a good time with my
older brother last night!?”

            May closes her eyes, knowing that this is all
just an attack on her image; two hapless bullies trying to get a rise out of
her.  She lays on the couch and remains calm, pretending to be a vampire
sleeping in her coffin during the daylight hours.  BANG! BANG! BANG!  The
hammering resumes.

            “Come out, freaky!” The young man yells again,
sounding more whiney and obnoxious.  “Freaky! Freaky! Freaky!”

            “YOU LITTLE SONS-OF-BITCHES, GET OUT OF HERE
BEFORE I CALL THE COPS!” An older man yells from the house next door.

            “Whoa, dude, okay, we’re just having a little
fun!” The young man shouts to May’s elderly neighbor.

            “WELL YOU’RE NOT GONNA’ HAVE ANY FUN WITH MY
FOOT UP YOUR ASS!  LEAVE THAT POOR WOMAN ALONE!” The man decrees with passion.

            “Shit!” The second young man says quietly to his
companion.  “I don’t want to deal with the cops.  Let’s get out of here!”

            After a few moments, May hears the thunderous
bass sounds from the stereo of their large truck in front of her home.  She
sits as silent as a crocodile, oblivious to what is happening above the
surface; thick skin and razor-sharp teeth beneath the serene waters.  Several
minutes go by as the bass music continues to pound the walls of her home, and
then the teenagers finally depart, allowing the tormented soul inside to
breathe deeply in relief.  She closes her eyes tight, refusing to open them,
and soon passes out from an exhausting, sleepless night. 

            Several hours later, May opens her eyes slowly,
noticing that the sun is still up.  She pushes the world out of her mind for a
moment, wondering if there is a peaceful place anywhere for someone like her. 
The remnants of the accident; a few minutes of fire, broken glass, and twisted
metal, have left her life a wreck. 

As she feels these thoughts
starting to pull her down, May decides to get off the couch and resume a day of
healthy activities, which she has done so many times in the past.  Her arms
stretch toward the ceiling as she stands up from a long bout with depression. 
She shuffles over to the kitchen to get herself a bowl of cereal and stop the
growling deep inside her stomach.  May places her right hand over her abdomen,
feeling foolish for not eating this entire time.

            With renewed pride she shuffles across the tiles
toward the kitchen cabinets to retrieve a bowl, thinking about her
accomplishments since the accident, and remembering to stay positive.  A smile
forms on her face as she thinks about the crazy variety of breakfast cereals
she has in her luxury home.  Most of the cupboard space is dominated by various
colorful breakfast flavors that she has enjoyed since childhood. 

May’s smile soon fades as she looks
at the back door of her home, noticing that there is some splintered wood
around the doorframe near the handle and the deadbolt.  She steps over with a
confused demeanor, pushing the door gently, and feeling an arrow of fear pierce
her heart as the door swings open.  Her face becomes an instant portrait of
terror as she discovers that the door has been pried open from the outside, and
someone might have been in the house while she was sleeping on the couch.

            The young woman begins to tremble, her lower jaw
shaking now as she recalls a dream about someone standing over her while she
slept on the sofa.  She looks out at the thick green grass in her backyard,
instantly petrified by the sight of her panties strewn all over, along with
some papers that she cannot identify.  With a feeling of intense panic, she
turns on her heel and moves briskly toward the master bedroom, wanting to check
on her clothing and other personal items.  ‘The seeds of betrayal have bloomed
into a garden of poisoned fruit,’ May thinks to herself as she sprints through
the hallway. 

            She brushes the bedroom door aside with her
right hand allowing it to strike the wall and rebound back toward her body,
tapping her backside as she enters the large room.  Her eyes move to the
dresser, noticing that the underwear drawer has been emptied.  She feels the
cruel jab of such an intimate trespass, and immediately thinks of the perverted
high school boys that have been harassing her.  May steps over to the closet
and throws open the slotted doors, hearing them rattle as she looks at her
other clothing to ensure that nothing is missing.  Her mouth opens wide in
shock as she notices that her small gun case is lying open on the floor, and
her pistol is missing.  A horrific thought occurs to May, as the liability of a
minor committing a crime using a pistol registered to her is now a possibility. 

            She places her hands on her hips and looks at
the floor, disgusted by this blatant invasion into her life.  As May steps back
to leave the room and call the police, she notices that a small, gray box is
also missing from the top of the closet.

            “NO!” She shouts into the empty air, diving into
the closet frantically, pulling clothing and sleeping bags aside as she tosses
them onto the floor behind her.

            After several minutes of frantic searching, she
sits down on the corner her bed and begins to cry.  The small, gray box had contained:
all of the photos with her and Charlie, the engagement ring he never had a
chance to give her, and every blessed memory of life before the accident or her
permanent scarring… These precious memories are gone forever, stolen by a
stranger while she indulged in a dance of self-pity. 

May begins to shake, infused with
anxiety and emptiness, knowing that the most important parts of her life were
preserved in that small box.  She turns her head slowly to the left, thinking
that the world is an unforgiving place, and her face suddenly grows cold with
concern.  The small desk where she normally does her writing is empty, and the
shiny white laptop that has been used to create all of her best work is no
longer there.  May jumps up from the bed, looking for her backup hard drive
with a grievous expression.

            “Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God.” She repeats
in rapid succession, holding her right hand over her mouth as it dawns on her
that she is missing over nine months of work, all of which is needed to meet
her publisher’s deadline in sixty days. “Sonofabitch! You pathetic little
assholes!  You miserable motherfuckers!” May shouts with a defeated stare. 
“How could you do this to me; I’m just trying to rebuild my life..?”

            With a flood of desire to recover her stolen
work, May bolts to the closet, her eyes now anvils of rage.  She slides her
dresses and shirts aside to reveal a large, black rifle case in the back of the
closet.  May reaches out and grips the familiar hard plastic handle of the
solid case and lugs it over to the bed, tossing it on the mattress.  Her
delicate fingers are nimble as they unclasp the two locks on the front side of
the case.  She flings the top open, looking at the gray, egg carton padding
inside that protects her silver AR-15 semi-automatic rifle.  She picks up the
empty, black magazine, embracing the cold metal in her soft hand as she steps
back to the closet to retrieve a box of ammunition from the shelf.  May grasps
the box in a hurry and dumps the munitions onto the empty side of the soft foam
in the gun case. 

            With an extreme gaze of purpose, she loads the
rounds into the magazine quickly, ensuring that it is filled to capacity.  Once
the magazine is full, she pushes it securely inside the bottom of the rifle,
then pulls back and releases the bolt to insert a round into the chamber.  A
sense of fear springs up within her as May lifts the rifle from its case with
both hands.  She removes the clear, plastic covers from either side of the
scope, and looks through the eyepiece to ensure the view is not cloudy or
distorted.  After checking the scope, she turns the rifle over and looks at the
small black button next to the trigger, being certain that the safety is
engaged.  ‘I’ll just scare them,’ she thinks to herself, knowing that on some
level this is irrational and irresponsible. 

            May holds the rifle close to her chest with the
barrel pointed toward the ceiling as she steps out of the hallway to the
kitchen.  The weight of the rifle in her hands causes the young woman to think
twice, realizing that this is a crazy course of action; she decides to call the
police.  May sets the rifle down on the island at the edge of the kitchen and
steps over to the wall a few feet away to retrieve her white, cordless phone. 
With a feeling of rational foresight, she slowly dials 911, and places the
phone against her right ear.

THE OBDAT – CHICAGO

            “Nine-one-one operator, what is your
emergency?”  Lorabell asks through a headset from her position on the right
side of the OBDAT control panel.

            “Yes, I live at sixteen fifty-nine, Alpha Bryo Lane, in Prince George.”  May begins with an excited tone, running her fingers
through her hair as she looks out at the backyard with suspicion.  “My home has
been robbed and my pistol was taken.”

            “Are the suspects still in the area?” Lorabell
asks with a smirk, watching May use the cordless phone on the LCD display above
her.

            “I don’t know,” May says with a shiver of fear,
“they broke in when I was asleep, and it looks like they went out the back. 
They threw my panties and paperwork all over the yard!” She admits with a
grimace, turning her head to the side for a moment before returning her gaze to
the backyard.

            “Can you give me an idea where they went?”
Lorabell presses in an urgent voice. “If we know the general area they fled
toward, I can send an officer there to apprehend them.”

            “Do you want me to go outside and look for
them?” May asks with a bit of surprise, showing concern for her safety.

            “Not if you feel that you’re in danger, ma’am,”
Lorabell replies with a sneaky smile, “but the more information I can provide
the responding officers- the better.”

            “Okay, I’m carrying a rifle for my own
protection.” May confirms with an innocent gaze.  “Will you tell the officers
not to shoot if they see me?”

            “Yes, please be careful.” Lorabell instructs
with a genuine smile.  “Can you describe what you’re wearing so that the
officers can identify you?”

            “Yes, I have blonde hair, and I’m a white
female, wearing black sweats and a blue T-shirt.” May relays nervously over the
phone. 

            “Okay, can you step outside and let me know what
you see?” Lorabell asks.  “I have an officer on the way.”

            May picks up the rifle with her left hand,
cradling it with her lower arm and holding it by the forestock beneath the
barrel.  She holds the phone against her right ear as she moves out into the
backyard, stepping slowly down the cement stairs to the grass below.  Her
slippers brush through the thick grass with dutiful ease as she makes her way
to the edge of the yard following the trail of panties and papers. 

            “Oh my God!” May says quietly as she freezes in
her tracks at the edge of the lawn.  “I see them!  They’re sitting at the top
of a hill about fifty-yards away- going through my shit!”

            “Okay, ma’am, I have officers on the way.”
Lorabell advises in a slow, condescending tone.  “Please keep an eye on the
suspects until my unit arrives, but maintain a safe distance.”

            “Hey, you little motherfuckers!” May shouts,
pulling the phone away from her ear.  “I’m on the phone with the police right
now.  You need to leave my things right there or you’re going to JAIL!” 

            “Holy shit, dude, she’s got another gun!” One of
the young men says with genuine alarm as he stops rummaging through a small,
gray shoebox. 

            “Let’s get the hell out of here!” The other
young thief declares in a hurry as he snatches her laptop from the grass and
begins to sprint down the other side of the hill. 

            “GET BACK HERE WITH MY COMPUTER!” May screams as
she begins to run toward the young men, dropping the cordless phone as she
grips the rifle with both hands on her way up the hill. 

            “Shit! Shit!” The young man says in a panic as
he sees May approaching with a formidable expression and an assault rifle in
her hands.

            He reaches down and retrieves the gray box from
the ground, along with her external hard drive and the pistol from her closet. 
The young man then bolts upright and clumsily follows his companion down the
other side of the hill.

            “That’s danger close!” Maxwell says with a
motherly look of concern as he watches May from the view of a handheld camera,
“I wouldn’t let her get too close; we need to stop her!”