| Subject: Sometimes the Dragons Are Real, Chapters 19 & 20 |
Author:
Jaron
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Date Posted: 16:46:42 12/13/01 Thu
In reply to:
Jaron
's message, "Sometimes the Dragons Are Real" on 18:37:45 12/12/01 Wed
Sometimes the Dragons Are Real, Chapter 19
I felt like I was in a daze. I heard a metallic clatter as the gun fell from my hand, and I
turned back to look at Michael. Saw blurs of color as men in black ushered the
hostages out of the bank. Felt warm stickiness on my hands and smelled the iron
smell of the blood on Michael and now, on me. I pulled David’s handkerchief out of
my pocket and tried to stop the bleeding from the wound on the back of Michael’s
head where he had hit the marble counter. Hugged Michael who I had somehow
pulled into my arms and I felt myself rocking him back and forth, back and forth.
Heard Rene’s muffled voice screaming from somewhere overhead, “I want my Daddy
and my Mom. Let me go. LET ME GO!”
Looked up and saw him struggling with Nikita, trying to pull himself away from her,
saw him falling...
No, no, not Rene too!! I thought, but then I saw that he wasn’t falling. He was coming
down on a rope and Nikita was following him down. A big man with blond hair
caught Rene and was talking to him as Rene squirmed around trying to jump out of
the big man’s grasp. Rene finally started to listen to the man who said his name was
Carson. Rene calmed down and held on to Carson as Carson carried Rene to a place
across the room, away from the carnage and the blood.
I felt hands pulling at my hands which were holding onto Michael’s jacket, pulling at
Michael, trying to take him from my arms. “Please,” I pleaded, “he’s hurt. Can you
help him?” I looked up into two sets of blue eyes, one a faded blue and the other,
ocean blue. I know those eyes, I thought. Slowly, I untangled my fingers from the
jacket and let other hands take Michael away.
“Gracie, we will help Michael. Let’s let medical work on him,” an old familiar voice
told me, as old familiar arms went around me and held me. “He’ll be okay, Gracie,
Michael will be okay.”
Things finally started coming back into focus for me. I looked around and all of the
hostages were gone. I saw the men in black combat gear like Michael’s standing
guard across the ruined front of the bank. Realized that the familiar arms holding me
belonged to Walter. Finally, knowing that maybe things were going to be okay, I
collapsed into those arms and cried in relief.
“Rene!” I sat up and pulled out of Walter’s arms and shouted, “Where is Rene?!
“Gracie,” Walter’s voice tried to calm me, “Rene is just fine. He’s with Carson,
learning the finer points of how to field strip a .45 and put it back together. He says
he likes puzzles. Gracie, if I didn’t know better, I could have sworn I taught you how
to shoot. Where did you learn how to put all your shots within a six inch diameter?”
“A man named Sam and lots of target practice. I thought that I might have to defend
Rene and myself one day, so I wanted to be prepared.” I laughed, “Guess that was the
best money I ever spent.” Walter and Nikita laughed with me. I was beginning to feel
better. “How is Michael? I want to see him and Rene.” I tried to stand on my own,
but was relieved when two sets of hands pulled me up. My clothes were a mess, I
was covered in Michael’s blood. “Are you sure Michael is all right?”
Sometimes the Dragons Are Real, Chapter 20
“Grace, you can see for yourself in a few minutes. He’s not going to be feeling good
for a while, but he will be okay,” Nikita assured me, “but first let’s find a restroom and
get you cleaned up. She took my arm and led me away from Walter who had just
handed her a plastic bag with something black inside.
As I walked through the restroom door, I came face to face with the horrors of my
eventful Friday afternoon in the reflection of a full-length mirror. I would never wear
my favorite jacket again, nor the blouse, nor the khaki pants. They were heavily
stained and becoming stiff with what was now turning a rusty dark red color as the
blood dried.
My hands, which had once been slick with Michael’s blood, were now dry and itchy. I
rushed over to the marble sink and turned on the water full blast and began
scrubbing my hands. Red water swirled down the drain. I was losing it again. My
knees felt like they were going to buckle, and I wanted to cry. For me, for Rene and
for Michael.
Nikita had dragged a chair over and gently pushed me into it. “Grace, I know it’s
hard, the first time you....kill. I know what you are feeling. I’ve been there. In fact,
we are a lot alike. The first time I killed was to save Michael’s life, just like you did.
Don’t let it haunt you. It will only make you crazy. You have to move on, and get on
with your life. Don’t make the mistakes I made.”
“Nikita, the problem is that I don’t feel anything about what I did. If I had to do it
over again, I would shoot that bastard again.” Were these words coming out of my
mouth? Me, the life-long pacifist, supporter of liberal causes, was this me saying
these things? Yes, I thought, this was me. After all, hadn’t I made the decision to
learn to use a gun? Hadn’t I spent hours during the day when Rene was in school
practicing my shooting until Sam had come over to me to tell me I was using up too
many of his paper targets? This was me, Grace King, and I was okay with who I was.
Because I knew that if anyone hurt the people I loved, their lives would be worthless. I
felt no guilt in what I had done. What I was feeling was gratitude that both Rene and
his father were still among the living.
I smiled up at Nikita. “Would you happen to have something I could put on? I don’t
want Rene to see me like this.” I watched as Nikita tore open the bag she had in her
hand.
“Want to masquerade as a member of the Hostage Rescue Team? I think you have
earned the honor.” She shook out the garment she held and I could see it was a black
jumpsuit with the letters, HRT, in gold emblazoned across the back.
“Oh, Rene will love this, and will want a set of his own. But then, I don’t suppose the
government would have his size, now would they?” We laughed and I started to pull
off my blood-stiffened clothing.
When Nikita and I walked out of the restroom, I noticed that the bodies of the three
failed bank robbers and the security guard had been zipped into black body bags and
moved to the front of the bank. I could also see that outside, dusk was approaching
and the bright lights of news crews were illuminating the crowd gathered in the front
of the bank. They were pressing forward, many of them craning their necks to try for
a better view inside.
‘Where’s Rene?” I asked of the men I could see gathered at the front of the black
Suburban, “and where is Michael? First Rene and then Michael.”
The group of men stepped back and my little angel, Rene, came running toward me,
an oversized black cap on his head with the same letters as on the back of my
jumpsuit. I swept him up in my arms and hugged him tightly, until he squeaked in a
little voice that Moms across America recognize, the voice that somehow elongated
the one syllable word, mom, into a three syllable word, “Mom....” My baby was
growing up. Soon, I knew I would no longer be able to kiss him in public. But I did
give him a final bear hug, and asked him how he felt.
“They won’t let me see Daddy. I know he was hurt. I saw it and now I want to see
him. I have to!!” He demanded. I felt the same way. I also wanted to see Michael. I
had to assure myself he would survive. I walked toward the van still holding Rene in
my arms. Nikita followed behind me. Men began to step out of my way.
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