Trigger Finger

Trigger Finger by Jackson Spencer Bell Page B

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Authors: Jackson Spencer Bell
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  Bobby had invited him to
come with us, I remembered.   But he
didn’t have the time.   As a surgeon, he
couldn’t risk the injury to his fingers and hands that would surely result from
hopping around a room in white pajamas.
    “Hindsight’s
20/20,” he said, shrugging.
    “You understand
that maybe you’re not firing on all eight cylinders now?”   I asked.   “I mean, do you realize that you were shooting at people who weren’t really there?   Do you understand what that means?”
    “It means I can’t
live on my own anymore,” he said softly.   “It means you all are going to put me in a home.”
    “Are you going to
fight us?   I mean, you don’t exactly
leave us much choice, do you?   Pulling
stunts like that?”
    “I’m crazy,” he
said, eyes closed, not looking at me.   “I
know.   Okay?   And I screwed up, I realize that.   So get off it, okay?”
    “I want to know if
you really get that or if you’re just saying it so we’ll let our guard down and you can get out there and do it again.”
    “Kevin…” Kate
groaned.
    “Didn’t we have a
conversation about this here recently?”   I continued, speaking to my father.   “Do you remember telling me to kiss your ass, you weren’t going
anywhere?   You remember calling me a
greedy son of a bitch who just wanted to get his hands on your house?”
    “Not really.   But if I said that, I apologize.”
    “So you get it
now?   You understand that there is no way
in Hell you can be allowed to stay out in the world when you pull crap like
that?”
    He nodded.
    “Really?   You get that there was nobody there?”
    “Completely.”   He turned his head to Kate’s side of the
bed.   Her tired, drawn expression
softened.
    “Sugar,” he said,
“you mind letting me talk to him alone for a minute?”
    “As long as you
don’t chew him up too badly,” she replied.   She looked at me as she said it, and I couldn’t figure out if she meant
that for me or for him.   But either way,
she gave his hand one more squeeze and retreated behind the curtain.   I felt the air pressure change as the door to
my father’s glass cage opened and closed.   No sooner had this happened than his act fell away and his expression
changed entirely.
    “Listen,” he said
firmly.
    Taken aback by the
sudden shift, I blinked.
    “I know what I
saw,” he said in a voice as hard as his face.   “I’m not crazy.   Those people were
out there.   They figured out how to get
the goddamned screens off and they were on their way in.   I did what I had to do.”
    I swallowed.   “Dad…”
    “Don’t ‘Dad’ me,
just listen!”
    I saw his Adam’s
apple bob as he swallowed, too.   He
looked briefly over my shoulder and then back at me.
    “I haven’t told
her what they look like,” he said with quiet urgency, “because I don’t want to
scare her.   I haven’t told her the whole
story, either.   And I haven’t made up my
mind yet whether I’m going to tell you.   But I need you to promise me that you’re not going to let her go back to
that house.   Not to stay by herself.”
    “Just in case
those things that were out to get you come back?”
    “No,” he
said.   “Those things that were out to get her .”
    My insides got
cold.   Silly, because my father was just
talking crazily and I should have remembered that, but I felt cold anyway.
    He wetted his lips
with a tongue that made a brief appearance and withdrew back inside his pinched
mouth.
    “They’re…not from
here,” he continued.   “They’re from
somewhere else.   And they want to take
her back with them.   I bagged a few of
them, but there’s more out there, so I want you to take her back with you.   Keep her until Bobby gets back.”
    I had no problem
with this part of it.   Although Allie and
I wouldn’t move out to the country for another year at that point, our old
house in Burlington had more than enough space to move another adult in with
us, especially on a

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