Her baby was crying_Charlie was crying. She couldn’t go to him, she didn’t have time. Held at bay, cornered in the kitchen, two young men stood hands up staring down double barrels. Behind Sarah, her twelve-year old son Ryan put the phone receiver down on the table. “She says it’ll be a couple minutes till they get here, but to go ahead and talk, she says she can hear you.”
“Ryan, you take Jenny and see what Charlie wants. Jenny, you go ahead, you go on, you go with Ryan.”
Taking his nine year-old sister’s hand, Ryan hesitated, even knowing of his mother’s uncanny ability to handle any situation. Sensing his reluctance, Sarah urged him to hurry. “Go on now, I’ll be fine,” she said with a confident voice, though inside her heart hammered out a crazy rhythm. Ryan pulled Jenny out the door. Moments later the crying stopped. From where she stood she heard Ryan’s whine, “Awww mom, he messed himself.”
The taller of the two men scratched at his nose and laughed. She raised the shotgun pointing it directly at his gut, then lifted its business end upward. “Keep them up, I can shoot and will.”
Sarah yelled out over her shoulder, “There are extra diapers in the bag. Ryan? Can you manage?” She thought she heard a reluctant ‘yes’ through the ever darkening tunnel.
Fidgeting, the shorter and older of the two darted a look at the back door, its stained glass hummingbird shattered, still open from the break in. “Don’t!” she warned sternly. He looked hard at her, trying to decide if she would shoot. “C’mon lady, let us go before the cops come,” he begged. "You wouldn’t want them kids to see their ma kill someone for nothing now would you?” said the tall man. “Shut up!” Sarah said in an agitated voice. “This is my house, those are my kids and you’ve messed with the wrong woman buster!” He remembered a cornered bear with cubs on a nature show: “Don’t come between them,” had been the advice, and the one he’d opted on a bit too late.
Far off they could hear the approaching sirens. She glanced out the window. Before she knew she’d done it, the rifle roared. Instantly the short man halted his move towards what remained of the door. It groaned and fell, unhinged by the blast. At least one of the men lost his bowls and both raised their hands a little higher. Red flashing lights tugged at the night for what seemed and eternity then started dwelling with each passing, sending the flowered curtain pattern dancing throughout the room.
Loud knocking at the front door was replaced with the violent knocking of her knees. Finally she lowered her shotgun and the police took over. The two men in handcuffs were escorted out. She sank into a kitchen chair shaking inside. The voice buzzed on the table. Picking up the receiver she handed it to an officer who confirmed their arrival and status. Cradling the phone he passes the message: “Margaret says to say ‘well done’ and to ask you if you need a job?”
Later, trying to recall those next few moments, it became simply a blur. Kneeling next to her, a young policeman was asking if she was all right. She nodded and then told her story. Someone handed her coffee; they wrote up reports and gave a phone number to call. Then the tears came. She wanted her children.
With brood gathered aside her, she listened to their excited talk. The diaper bag, baby powder, wipes and rolled waste diaper lay beside the blanket. Charlie was on it, kicking his feet up and down giggling in happy gibberish.
“Ryan tried to but started gagging, so I did it,” Jenny boasted loudly.
“That’s my girl,” she beamed patting Jenny’s head.
Ryan looked down ashamed, “I tried honest, but I was too worried about mom,” then added, “awww Jenny, you said you wouldn’t tell any body.”
“But mother isn’t just any body,” corrected Jenny. You know?”
“You too!” she said to her daughter.
Ryan’s pout turned to embarrassed laughter as she started poking him in his ticklish spots. “And you, you young man!”
Picking up her baby and looking at her family safe, Sarah smiled. "And you Charlie,” she cooed, into his cherubic face. Then, then she cried a bit more.
“Ryan, you take Jenny and see what Charlie wants. Jenny, you go ahead, you go on, you go with Ryan.”
Taking his nine year-old sister’s hand, Ryan hesitated, even knowing of his mother’s uncanny ability to handle any situation. Sensing his reluctance, Sarah urged him to hurry. “Go on now, I’ll be fine,” she said with a confident voice, though inside her heart hammered out a crazy rhythm. Ryan pulled Jenny out the door. Moments later the crying stopped. From where she stood she heard Ryan’s whine, “Awww mom, he messed himself.”
The taller of the two men scratched at his nose and laughed. She raised the shotgun pointing it directly at his gut, then lifted its business end upward. “Keep them up, I can shoot and will.”
Sarah yelled out over her shoulder, “There are extra diapers in the bag. Ryan? Can you manage?” She thought she heard a reluctant ‘yes’ through the ever darkening tunnel.
Fidgeting, the shorter and older of the two darted a look at the back door, its stained glass hummingbird shattered, still open from the break in. “Don’t!” she warned sternly. He looked hard at her, trying to decide if she would shoot. “C’mon lady, let us go before the cops come,” he begged. "You wouldn’t want them kids to see their ma kill someone for nothing now would you?” said the tall man. “Shut up!” Sarah said in an agitated voice. “This is my house, those are my kids and you’ve messed with the wrong woman buster!” He remembered a cornered bear with cubs on a nature show: “Don’t come between them,” had been the advice, and the one he’d opted on a bit too late.
Far off they could hear the approaching sirens. She glanced out the window. Before she knew she’d done it, the rifle roared. Instantly the short man halted his move towards what remained of the door. It groaned and fell, unhinged by the blast. At least one of the men lost his bowls and both raised their hands a little higher. Red flashing lights tugged at the night for what seemed and eternity then started dwelling with each passing, sending the flowered curtain pattern dancing throughout the room.
Loud knocking at the front door was replaced with the violent knocking of her knees. Finally she lowered her shotgun and the police took over. The two men in handcuffs were escorted out. She sank into a kitchen chair shaking inside. The voice buzzed on the table. Picking up the receiver she handed it to an officer who confirmed their arrival and status. Cradling the phone he passes the message: “Margaret says to say ‘well done’ and to ask you if you need a job?”
Later, trying to recall those next few moments, it became simply a blur. Kneeling next to her, a young policeman was asking if she was all right. She nodded and then told her story. Someone handed her coffee; they wrote up reports and gave a phone number to call. Then the tears came. She wanted her children.
With brood gathered aside her, she listened to their excited talk. The diaper bag, baby powder, wipes and rolled waste diaper lay beside the blanket. Charlie was on it, kicking his feet up and down giggling in happy gibberish.
“Ryan tried to but started gagging, so I did it,” Jenny boasted loudly.
“That’s my girl,” she beamed patting Jenny’s head.
Ryan looked down ashamed, “I tried honest, but I was too worried about mom,” then added, “awww Jenny, you said you wouldn’t tell any body.”
“But mother isn’t just any body,” corrected Jenny. You know?”
“You too!” she said to her daughter.
Ryan’s pout turned to embarrassed laughter as she started poking him in his ticklish spots. “And you, you young man!”
Picking up her baby and looking at her family safe, Sarah smiled. "And you Charlie,” she cooed, into his cherubic face. Then, then she cried a bit more.
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