Taking Aim

by Michael Cart

  He looked for her again, wanting to set things straight, but she was gone.

  Maura was surprised where she and Gabby had ended up. She had expected a run-down project. Instead, interspersed among yellow-brick three-story apartment complexes, were a number of well-kept two-family homes. Maura wouldn’t have chosen to walk there alone at midnight, but now, at four p.m., kids were playing street soccer, and a gray-haired black man was smoking a pipe on a front porch.

  “I thought you said you lived in the ghetto.”

  “Well, it ain’t exactly Beverly Hills,” Gabby said. “Just remember, these boys will try to spook you, so ignore them. You’ve got the money, right?”

  “Yeah,” Maura said.

  Gabby led her up the porch stairs of a white two-family and knocked once on the door before entering. Maura followed, expecting someone to yell at them, but nothing happened.

  There were four boys about Maura’s age. Two were on the floor playing a video game. On a couch, a black kid waved to Gabby. He was sketching the two video players on lined pages of a spiral notebook. Beside him was a white kid with close-cut blond hair. He was shirtless and heavily muscled, and next to him was a shoe box.

  They all stopped to look at the girls. They looked hungry. They looked like they wanted to have fun.

  The shirtless kid stood and smiled at Maura. He was handsome. “Thanks for coming,” he said.

  The black kid was up in an instant. “I’ll do the welcoming,” he said, then jokingly bowed toward Maura.

  “This is my cousin, Rashim,” Gabby said. “This is his house.”

  “You girls want anything to drink?” Rashim said.

  Maura felt her chest tighten, but she couldn’t leave now. This was something she had to do.

  “Just give us the gun and we’ll be on our way,” Gabby said.

  “And you used to be so much fun, cousin,” Rashim said.

  “I was never fun like that.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like what you mean.”

  The shirtless kid approached. He knew he had a nice body. “No time like the present,” he said.

  Maura was having trouble breathing again, but Gabby was calm. “The gun, Rashim, now, or I’ll tell your mama the nasty things you’ve been up to.” She laughed.

  “The money first,” Rashim said, so Maura got the hundred dollars from her purse and handed it to him.

  The shirtless guy opened the shoe box and removed a gun. It was smaller than Maura would’ve thought. Her first inclination was to run, but then she remembered why she was there.

  The shirtless guy surprised everyone by pointing the gun at the two girls.

  “Get that outta my face,” Gabby said.

  “It’s not loaded,” he said. “The bullets are in the box. There are only five of them.” He looked at Maura. “You aim to shoot someone?”

  “No, just scare him.”

  Maura could feel Gabby staring at her. She hadn’t exactly told Gabby the truth.

  “How does it work?” Maura asked.

  All the boys laughed, and the shirtless one said, “You point it at someone and pull the trigger.”

  “I just want to scare him,” she repeated.

  “Yeah,” one of the kids on the couch said, “but then something goes wrong. I once shot a dude in the hand. It was a mistake.”

  “Yeah, a mistake,” Rashim said, and they all laughed again.

  “Here,” the shirtless kid said, “hold it.”

  Reluctantly, Maura took the gun, surprised at how light it was. Suddenly she wasn’t so afraid. She felt as if she had done this before, maybe as a kid. Maybe she had held a toy gun, and it was as simple as that. Maybe she wouldn’t even have to put bullets in it. After a few seconds, it felt warm in her hands.

  “That’s enough,” Gabby said, looking curiously at Maura. She took the gun from her and returned it to the box. “We’re outta here.”

  Everything would have been fine but one of the kids from the floor began to circle them. Then the shirtless guy did the same, poking Maura in the ribs and saying, “Time to party.”

  Maura remembered another room, a girl’s bedroom, but not hers.

  She looked at the box with the gun in it, but Gabby got there first, wedging the box under her arm. “You wannabe gangsta boys don’t scare us,” she said.

  “Hey, hey,” the shirtless guy said. “That kind of talk won’t do.” He was mad now. He was going to do something stupid. That’s what guys did when they were mad.

  Rashim got in the kid’s face. “Chill out,” he said, and then to Gabby, “Just scat, girl.”

  “You really going to let ’em go?” the shirtless kid said.

  “She’s family,” Rashim said. And that reminder seemed to calm everyone.

  In the car Gabby said, “Who you going to scare? You said your mama’s boyfriend’s been hassling you. You said you were afraid of what he’d do next.”

  Maura had lied about the boyfriend.

  “Does it matter?” is all she could say.

  “Sure does,” Gabby said. “I don’t want you shooting up your school or something crazy like that. Don’t make me sorry for helping you.”

  “I won’t,” Maura said.

  “Promise?”

  “Promise.”

  To Alex she was one of those kids you go through school never noticing. Not a geek or an outsider. Just a quiet presence, the girl barely visible at the edge of the class photo, too polite to push her way to the front. There was something sexy about that kind of reserve, so when Josh pointed her out, it got Alex thinking.

  “Something’s changing with that girl,” Josh had said.

  “What girl?”

  “The one by the water fountain,” Josh said. “I think her name’s Laura or Maura, something like that. Really nice legs, but I don’t remember her ever wearing a skirt that short. I’m a leg man, so it’s something that would’ve registered.”

  The girl was sipping from the fountain, and Alex had to agree about the legs.

  “Definitely a possible notch on the Gunslinger’s holster,” Josh said.

  That’s what Alex’s friends jokingly called him, “The Gunslinger.” He thought it was a stupid name, though it was cool to have that reputation, even if it was exaggerated. At first he thought girls would shy away when they heard about it, but just the opposite seemed to be happening, so he felt obliged to live up to it. And that’s partly why he approached the girl at the fountain.

  When she turned, he startled her. She dropped a book onto the floor, and he retrieved it. She blushed and that’s when he knew it was a done deal. Just a question of how to handle it.

  “Sorry,” he said, smiling. “I’m clumsy by nature.”

  “Not what I’d expect from a jock,” she said.

  So she has some spunk, Alex thought. I like that. He looked closely at her. She was actually pretty cute but, for some reason, just missed being hot. Was it her nose? Her mouth? Were her eyes too close or far apart? He couldn’t put his finger on it.

  “You make it sound like a disease,” Alex said.

  “If I thought that, I wouldn’t be running track.”

  That’s where I saw her, Alex thought, remembering how the cross-country team practiced on the track circling the football field.

  And so they chatted, followed by their first date at the pizzeria, some more talk about school and the plans she had for the future. The usual stuff Alex had to listen to, knowing he had to go slow with this girl. A few more dates, and then they’d go to his cousin Henry’s party. It was in another town. Most of the kids would be from Henry’s private school, and Henry’s parents would be in Europe, so they’d have the house to themselves.

  On the third date, he kissed her, not hard, teasing her with his tongue to see what she knew, which wasn’t much. He never touched her while they kissed, just leaned in innocently, not wanting to scare her off. It was nice, and for a moment, he wondered if he might end up liking this girl. She was different, ine
xperienced but a little feisty, too. He learned a lot about her: that her father had split, that she thought her mother was prettier than she was (which turned out to be true), and that they were having a tough time financially. The more he learned, the more he realized how unhappy she was.

  He felt strangely sad and exhilarated by this knowledge.

  So he asked her to Henry’s party, and she said yes. He told her to bring her bathing suit, and he promised her mother she’d be back by midnight. He did all the right things. He gave her mother Henry’s address and also his own parents’ phone numbers, knowing she’d never follow up on these things.

  So everything was set. What made it even better was that he was looking forward to the party. He was beginning to like this girl named Maura.

  The shirtless kid was right: there were only five bullets. Maura laid them out on her bed in the shape of a fan, like the silver-painted fingernails of an imaginary hand. Gabby had shown her how to slide the cartridges into the chamber. Although Maura didn’t plan on shooting the gun, she practiced inserting and removing the bullets. She felt comfortable holding it when the cylinders were empty, but when full, the weapon seemed heavier, as if weighted down by the possibility of death. She held it away at arm’s length, her hand uncontrollably shaking, which, in a way, was reassuring. It made her realize she could never actually shoot anyone. She stared at the gun, still amazed at how easy it was to purchase.

  At one point, she decided to remove all but one bullet. She imagined standing over Alex, spinning the chamber, playing Russian roulette. She pictured him begging her to stop, just as she had. She was about to remove the last bullet when she heard a knock. It was her mother, calling her for dinner. Before opening the door, she placed the gun in the box and slid it under her bed.

  After dinner, back in her room, Maura thought about yesterday afternoon. Why had she followed him to the mall? How pathetic! How just like her to cower in the distance instead of confronting him. Wouldn’t she ever change?

  She had friends. She was athletic, and no one could say she was ugly, but she always knew her chances of becoming one of the cool kids—the ones that seemed so confident, so unafraid—were slim to none. She was pretty but not pretty enough. Funny, even witty at times, but too easily hurt. And when that happened, she’d withdraw rather than fight. Added to these deficiencies was the fact she had an AWOL father, and a mother who always struggled to make ends meet, dating divorced guys who never stayed with her.

  Consequently Maura was surprised when Alex had asked her out, even more surprised that he was nice. She knew his reputation, but her girlfriends were wrong. She had been kissed by different boys, and Alex’s kisses were sincere. Any other guy would’ve pushed for more.

  She even felt comfortable telling him about her father and admitting she was jealous of her mother’s beauty, and that, secretly, she thought her mother had driven her father away.

  So how did she end up at a lousy mall, stalking him, able to mumble only one word, “Why?”

  He probably laughed all the way home. She could almost hear that laugh, along with the laughter of the other boys, the ones at Rashim’s house and at the party. Those memories frightened her, but she wasn’t going to be scared anymore.

  Alex was.

  If Alex were ever on trial, and he sometimes worried Maura might bring it to that, this is what he would say.

  First, he was fond of her. He wasn’t a creep. He took only what was offered. What did Maura think they were going to do at an unsupervised party? Hold hands? Up until then, he had never groped or talked dirty to her, but it was only natural to take it to the next level.

  It was about 90 degrees that early June night, and everyone was drinking or smoking dope. He was surprised at how well Maura fit in, almost proud to be with her. Early on, she didn’t drink, but then someone handed her a rum and Coke, and she liked it. He told her to take it easy. These weren’t your normal rum and Cokes—more like glasses of rum with a shot of Coke. But Maura kept downing them, becoming more relaxed and talkative. That’s when he realized his night might get more interesting if the drinks kept coming, so he mixed them himself.

  But then she got a bit aggressive, making fun of the gunslinger thing, and that pissed him off. So he led her to the greenhouse, wanting to make clear who was in charge. He started to kiss her hard, and she pushed him away a few times, so he slowed down until he regained her trust. A few minutes later, he steered her out of the greenhouse, through a throng of partygoers, toward the main house, finally ending up in Henry’s sister’s bedroom.

  Things were looking good until she said she wanted to go home, and that didn’t seem quite fair. Rather than get mad, he was smart enough to back off. He’d been through this before. He coaxed her onto the bed and began kissing her gently, the way he had on previous dates. She seemed content with this, so he got more aggressive. At first she responded in kind, and then something unexpected happened. She started to nod off, so he had to push the issue, jostling her awake. She fought a little but, eventually, they got it on. Although she asked him to stop a few times, she never screamed or hit him, so he took his time.

  Afterward, she drifted off, and while he was getting dressed, Henry and two other guys barged in.

  “Whoops,” Henry said.

  Then one of Henry’s friends saw Maura and said, “Let’s party,” which made them laugh.

  “Leave her alone,” Alex said.

  “Well, you certainly didn’t,” Henry said.

  Alex got in between them and Maura.

  “You’d actually get your ass kicked for her?” Henry said.

  “She’s totally wasted,” Alex said.

  “We can see that,” Henry replied.

  Then another one of Henry’s friends, a guy who looked like he might have played football, said, “This is too messed up, Henry. Let’s go downstairs.”

  Henry pondered that for a few moments, then they all left.

  Alex shook Maura awake as best he could and helped her to get dressed. He saw her pendant on the floor and slid it into the front pocket of her jeans. She was having trouble walking, so he guided her downstairs and then to his car.

  A little later, after she had puked a few times, they were parked outside a Dunkin’ Donuts. Alex had bought her a muffin and a large black coffee. He kept asking if she was okay, but she wouldn’t answer. Instead she stared out the passenger-side window like a zombie.

  He got her home by midnight, just as he had promised.

  He was relieved.

  It had been a very long night.

  Maura had never been drunk before. But she liked these rum and Cokes. She knew she was high but wasn’t concerned. If anything, she felt more like herself, thinking she might slip into her bathing suit. She wandered around the pool, laughing at silly jokes, surprising herself by flirting. She even poked fun at Alex’s reputation as a gunslinger. That wasn’t nice, but what an insanely stupid nickname.

  Still, Alex was hot, every girl at school knew that, and he’d been nice to her, so she had no problems trailing him to the greenhouse. They started to make out, though this time it was different. He seemed angry and acted more like he wanted to wrestle than to kiss. And this scared her, so she said no. But then he became the Alex she knew, so she gave in, even agreeing to follow him to the main house. She finished her fifth rum and Coke on the way, and that’s when the real buzz arrived. The splashing and laughter around her seemed amplified, and the glaring floodlights above the pool made her see spots.

  Alex squeezed her hand and led her to Henry’s house, then upstairs to a bedroom. It had to be a girl’s bedroom because it had a huge canopied bed with a soft pink comforter and pink pillowcases. On the dresser were what looked like old music boxes. She was about to examine one when Alex pushed her onto the bed.

  “No,” she said. “I’m really out of it.”

  “So am I,” he said.

  He started to kiss her, but something didn’t seem right. She felt woozy and very, very tired
. Who falls asleep when they’re kissing someone? she thought.

  “I want to go home,” she said.

  But he ignored her, trying to unbutton her blouse and unzip her jeans.

  She pushed him away, but he kept at it.

  “No,” she said very loudly.

  “Jeez, Maura, calm down.”

  She should have yelled at him then, but the five rum and Cokes made it hard to process what was happening. That’s when he worked to get her jeans off. That’s when she tried to escape from underneath him, which made him counter by pinning her wrists to the mattress.

  All she could say was, “Please don’t, Alex.” She repeated it a number of times, but he was too strong.

  She had always wondered what sex would be like, but she had never imagined it would take so long or be so violent.

  Afterward she thought they were alone until she heard the other boys, one saying, “Let’s party.” Knowing what might happen next, she decided to play dead, and that’s when she heard Alex say, “She’s wasted.”

  Her next clear recollection was puking into some bushes beside Alex’s car.

  Later, in the Dunkin’ Donuts parking lot, Alex wouldn’t stop talking. He made fun of some girl who had taken off her top and jumped into the pool; he said he didn’t even know Henry’s friends; he asked if she wanted another muffin. He didn’t look at her as he rambled on. All she wanted was to jump out of the car and run home, but she was in no condition to do that.

  At her house, he said, “Do you want me to walk you to the door?”

  Do you want me to walk you to the door? she repeated in her mind. Do you want me to walk you to the door? Was he serious?

  After that night, he did his best to avoid her in the halls. She waited one whole week for him to call and answer the question she’d been obsessed with, the one that jolted her from sleep each night: Why?

  Alex wasn’t going to tell Josh or his other friends about the party, but they always expected a report, so he gave them enough details to make them go away. He was aware something had gone wrong that night, and he needed to move on.