Your Fathers, Where Are They? And the Prophets, Do They Live Forever?

by Dave Eggers

  —I can’t confirm that.

  —Well, I can. It’s a fact. So he’s standing there, and he’s holding the Outback steak knife.

  —He was holding the knife and he would not relinquish it. The officers demanded he drop the knife, but he refused.

  —And when did you come to the backyard?

  —Almost immediately.

  —How soon till all fourteen cops are in the backyard?

  —Two stayed in the front yard.

  —Okay. Twelve of you.

  —Maybe twenty seconds.

  —So twenty seconds after he emerges from the basement, all twelve of you are in the backyard with him. And he’s holding the knife, and you’re all yelling for him to drop the knife.

  —That’s correct.

  —Where in the backyard was he standing?

  —He stopped running near the back fence and had taken some steps back toward the house, so I’d say he was in the middle-back of the yard.

  —Okay. And where are all you guys?

  —We made a half circle around him.

  —So there are twelve of you surrounding him, all of you with guns drawn?

  —Yes.

  —You’re pointing what kind of gun at him?

  —My service revolver.

  —And the SWAT guys?

  —Semiautomatics.

  —So there are twelve guns pointed at him.

  —Yes.

  —And what’s he doing at this point?

  —At that point he was waving the knife around in a threatening manner.

  —Like how, exactly? He’s jabbing it toward people?

  —Yes. He’s jabbing, and he’s yelling.

  —What was he saying to you?

  —Saying he was immortal, that he would cut our eyes out. That kind of thing.

  —Hold on a second. I didn’t know the part about being immortal. That wasn’t in the police report. Tell me everything you can remember him saying.

  —Well, there was the stuff about being immortal. He would say, “You know, you guys are just shades.” He called us shades. He said he was the source of light, that he was the sun. He said he was the sun and he couldn’t be killed.

  —That’s it?

  —He told us to stay away or lose our eyes.

  —He mostly threatened your eyes?

  —Yes. That he’d cut out our eyes.

  —Anything else?

  —He also said he wrote the Bible. He quoted some line.

  —What line?

  —I don’t remember. Something about missing fathers.

  —Did he say he would kill you?

  —I think he said he would live forever. That he was a prophet.

  —Did he say he would kill you?

  —Not that I can remember.

  —Now how far away from him are you at this point?

  —Me myself?

  —Yes.

  —Maybe twenty-five feet.

  —Did you fear for your life?

  —I felt in danger, yes.

  —Let me back up a second. What were you wearing at that point?

  —Just my uniform.

  —No bulletproof vest?

  —I was wearing a vest, yes.

  —Okay. So you’re wearing a bulletproof vest. Are the SWAT team members wearing vests, too?

  —Yes.

  —So all twelve of you were wearing vests?

  —Yes.

  —Okay. Would a bulletproof vest stop a knife?

  —How do you mean?

  —If I threw a knife from twenty-five feet away, would the vest stop it from penetrating your skin?

  —Yes. I would think so.

  —It can stop a bullet, right? So it could stop a kitchen knife.

  —Yes.

  —Okay. Were you wearing a helmet?

  —I was not.

  —But the SWAT guys were.

  —Yes.

  —So most of you are wearing helmets, and everyone’s wearing vests. But you say you were concerned for your life.

  —I was.

  —Please explain that to me.

  —We had an armed man who was in some kind of psychotic state. He attacked his mother and he was acting erratically, swinging around a large knife.

  —But there’s twelve guns against one knife. And with the vests, you’re basically standing behind bulletproof glass.

  —Vests are not like bulletproof glass. And remember, this man had legs. He could get to any one of us in a second or two.

  —And that’s what he tried to do?

  —He was moving around. And for a while, it was within a certain perimeter. But when he got closer, we were forced to act.

  —He got closer?

  —He made a move toward us. He lunged.

  —That’s when you fired your gun?

  —Yes. I did and the rest of the team did.

  —How many bullets did the autopsy reveal had been fired into him?

  —Three.

  —But weren’t you all shooting at him?

  —No, only three of us fired our weapons.

  —And did the three bullets stop him?

  —Yes. He dropped to the ground.

  —And then what?

  —We approached him with caution, and when we saw that he had dropped the knife, we called the ambulance.

  —And when did you know you’d killed him?

  —A few hours later. We were at the hospital.

  —You waited there at the hospital?

  —Yes I did. There were at least six officers there. We did not want the young man to die.

  —But you shot him.

  —We shot him to subdue him.

  —How close do you think he got to you?

  —How do you mean?

  —When he was stepping toward you, was he running?

  —He moved very quickly.

  —Was he running?

  —He had begun to run, yes.

  —And how far did he move toward you?

  —We measured it at eight feet.

  —Okay. So you said you had been twenty-five feet away from him. When you shot him, if he’d moved eight feet toward you, he was still seventeen feet away from you. Is that right?

  —Yes.

  —Okay, wait. Let me go over here. About as far away as I am from you now. Is this the distance?

  —Yes. About.

  —So he died about seventeen feet from you.

  —Yes.

  —How many times did you personally shoot him?

  —Shoot or hit?

  —Both.

  —I shot three times and hit him once.

  —Where did you hit him?

  —Once in the neck.

  —Is that where you were aiming?

  —I was aiming at a figure moving quickly toward me. We’re taught to aim into the largest part of the target. And that’s the torso.

  —You wanted to stop his forward motion.

  —Yes.

  —And you did stop it.

  —Yes. Listen, I didn’t enjoy it. I have never fired my weapon since that night. I’m not some cowboy. I know it doesn’t diminish your pain, but it was traumatic for me, too. I would have preferred any other outcome.

  —That’s fine. But here’s the thing: it seems like there were other possible outcomes. I just never understood the concept, the logistics of all this. There are twelve heavily armed men, and you’re surrounding this small man with a knife. He has no criminal record, and the two things you know he’s done wrong that night are he’s danced on some tables at Denny’s and pushed his mom against a wall. Then a couple hours later he’s dead in his own backyard. This kind of thing happens once a week.

  —Here it does?

  —Somewhere it does. Last week they shot a guy in a wheelchair.

  —An armed man threatens a group of police officers, there will be bad outcomes.

  —The wheelchair guy had a length of pipe. Why not just leave him alone? With Don, you removed the mom from the house. Why no
t just let him sit around in the basement?

  —Let an armed man accused of assault roam free?

  —He’s in his basement. He’s not roaming anywhere.

  —He was armed and probably psychotic. We have to presume he’s dangerous.

  —But you didn’t really think he was dangerous.

  —Of course we did.

  —But you didn’t. You worked in Marview. This is some confused young man with a steak knife. He had a college degree, no prior record.

  —Lee Harvey Oswald didn’t have a record, either.

  —Good. Good one. But really, when the SWAT team showed up, did you ever think, Well, maybe this is a bit much for one guy in a basement?

  —No. We have to prepare for the worst.

  —Well, that’s true in a way, isn’t it? You guys prepare for the worst, even in Marview. Doesn’t that seem insane? A bunch of little towns by the ocean have a SWAT team? In case we get attacked by some army of sea lions?

  —We have a fire department, too, even when there hasn’t been a fatal fire in twenty-two years.

  —But firemen don’t have guns. You know how many SWAT teams there are in the country now? Of course you don’t. Fifty thousand. Every fucking suburb has a SWAT team. And it’s not because there’s been some sudden surge of hostage situations in Westchester and Orange County. It’s because you fuckers like to get dressed up.

  —That is incorrect.

  —You love it. That’s why you got into the line of work in the first place. The gear. The fucking Batman utility belt.

  —You have no idea what you’re talking about.

  —I have every idea what I’m talking about because you killed my friend. Don’t you ever say I don’t know what the fuck I’m talking about. I know everything. I’m the moral man here. I’m the man of principle.

  —

  —You know I’m the moral man here.

  —

  —Tell me you understand that.

  —I understand that you want me to believe it.

  —You better believe it. Motherfucker, you better believe it. You’re the one who fucked up. You have blood on your hands. You’re soaked in the blood of an innocent. Do you realize that?

  —It was an unfortunate incident.

  —See, just those words indicate no respect for human life. An incident ends a human life? No, that’s an apocalypse. The death of a young person for no reason is an apocalypse. It’s not an incident. Don was not an incident. You understand that? Is a person an incident?

  —No.

  —Was my friend an incident?

  —No.

  —Did you participate in the apocalypse that ended my friend?

  —

  —Don’t tempt me.

  —Yes.

  —And there was no other way to subdue him? A taser? Pepper spray? A big net? Rubber bullets? Think for a second.

  —In hindsight, there might have been a different solution. But he was armed and seemed about to do something terrible. This is how it usually happens. A guy seems harmless and then has a night where things go down a rabbit hole and people get killed. Every murderer has to start somewhere, and we were determined to stop him from hurting anyone.

  —Tell me this, though: the guy’s in the basement. Do you think, if you had simply left him there at the house, someone would have been hurt? I mean, instead of the standoff, with you demanding him to come out and him getting increasingly agitated, what if you had just left? Take the mom, leave the house, leave him alone. What do you think would have happened?

  —He could have gotten right back into a car and he could have done something far worse than he already had.

  —But you could have followed him. You could follow him around all night.

  —And then we have a high-speed chase.

  —You really think this was destined for some disastrous result?

  —He was in a fugue state. I think his behavior was getting increasingly bizarre and dangerous.

  —So you’re all standing around him, the small man with a steak knife. And you said he came toward you. I understand the need to protect yourself. But why shoot him in the head?

  —I did not aim for his head.

  —One of your colleagues did.

  —My supposition is that that officer was aiming for his torso, too.

  —But why not just shoot him in the leg?

  —We’re trained to stop the aggressor and remove the threat. The best way to do that is to shoot at the torso. The torso is the largest target, and shooting there is the best chance to stop his forward movement.

  —But you shot him in the neck and someone else shot him in the eye.

  —I missed. I aimed for his torso, but it all happened very quickly.

  —So again, why not just shoot him in the leg? Even before he started moving toward you, why not just shoot him in the leg and call it a day? He’d be immobilized instantly.

  —If I shoot at his leg and miss, he could very well come at me and stick the knife in my neck.

  —You’re serious. You were really worried that he’d hurt you.

  —Of course I was. Have you heard of the twenty-one-foot rule?

  —Tell me.

  —The basic principle is that if a suspect is within twenty-one feet of an officer, and is holding an edged weapon like a knife, then that suspect presents a clear and present danger to the officer. And deadly force against him is justified.

  —So if a man is holding a knife within twenty-one feet of a cop, the cop is justified in shooting him.

  —If that suspect is threatening to use it, yes.

  —Why twenty-one feet?

  —That’s the area the suspect could cover in a short amount of time—not enough time for the officer to escape or protect himself. This was based on research done by an officer in Salt Lake City.

  —So tell me something. If I’m holding a knife, and you’re twenty-two feet away, all you have to do is step one foot closer to me, and then you get to shoot me. Isn’t that possible?

  —No.

  —Yes it is. By your interpretation, it’s possible.

  —The rule is a guideline for officers to know the distance within which the suspect could reasonably present a deadly threat.

  —Does the suspect have to be moving toward you?

  —Not necessarily. If he’s threatening me with a knife, and he’s within twenty-one feet, then I’m permitted to use deadly force.

  —Oh shit.

  —What?

  —This is what I feared. I mean, I knew you could be one of those cops misinterpreting that rule, but I hoped you weren’t. I wanted it to be more complicated.

  —I’m not misinterpreting anything.

  —But you are, you fucking asshole. The twenty-one-foot rule is … Do you really not know? You’ve got that look on your face that says you have no idea what I’m talking about but you think I might actually know something you don’t.

  —That isn’t the look on my face. I’m tired, and now I’m getting angry.

  —Stop. You have no idea. Let me describe what the twenty-one-foot rule actually is. The rule says that a suspect armed with a knife can cover twenty-one feet in the amount of time a cop can remove his gun from his holster, aim it and fire it. Do you understand?

  —Yes. But I’m not sure that’s correct.

  —It’s a guideline. If you’re faced with a man armed with a knife, and you’re within twenty-one feet, you should get your weapon out. That’s what the rule states. Just that you should have your weapon unholstered if an armed man is that close.

  —I don’t believe that’s true.

  —It is true. That’s from the manual, you idiot.

  —

  —You have nothing to say?

  —

  —This is so fucked up. I think you shot my best friend because you and your buddies can’t read. I think you shot my best friend in the neck and head because you thought there was some rule that allowed you to do it. Some rule that you were too lazy
or stupid to actually look up and read. You hear that the rule says you have to shoot anyone with a knife if you’re within twenty-one feet, and so you shoot a tiny guy holding a kitchen knife who poses no threat to anyone. Doesn’t that seem fucked up to you? I’ll answer for you. It is fucked up. And you’re a fucking idiot. And you know what else? I don’t think he was even moving. I know you say now that he was moving toward you, but I’m betting he wasn’t. I know you got everyone to agree with you that he was moving, but I think he just turned toward you. The one autopsy said that the bullet entered his neck at an angle that indicated his head had just turned toward you. I think he turned toward you, and you freaked out and shot him. And you thought all this was acceptable because you were thinking of the twenty-one-foot rule, which you don’t even fucking understand.

  —You’re mistaken on all your facts.

  —I think you killed my friend because you can’t read.

  —Fuck you.

  —Okay, maybe you can read. But think how silly it looks to the world that twelve cops in SWAT gear can’t subdue one five foot seven man holding a kitchen knife. I mean, doesn’t it make you feel a little embarrassed?

  —No. These people don’t understand the actual dangers.

  —Because there aren’t actual dangers in that situation.

  —Do you know how long it takes for an agile person to cover that twenty-one feet? It’s about a second and a half. In that time, if your friend had decided to stick that knife in my neck or my face, he would have done it.

  —But you had your gun out.

  —Yes, to prevent him from killing me.

  —I’ll tell you why you shot him. Because you were all gathered around him, and you assumed the logical end to that situation is your guns are fired and someone is dead. It doesn’t seem right otherwise. Do you agree with that?

  —No.

  —That every story ends with the firing of a gun?

  —No.

  —That you should get your way, on your timetable?

  —No.

  —You were all yelling at him, saying drop the knife, do as we say, do it now, do it now. And he doesn’t. He yells more. Your adrenaline boils. And you want it all to end. There must be an end, and it must come quickly. You can’t wait. You can’t back down. Your guns all drawn have failed to make him do what you want him to do, and that drives you all crazy. You think, You’ll submit to our will.

  —No.

  —And you’ll do it now, because we’ve already been here, what, ten minutes?