Gun-shy
On Sunday morning, I was jolted awake by the sound of gunshots. Crack!crack!crack!crack!crack! Rapid-fire. Distinct. Unmistakable.
With my heart pinballing in my chest, I shot upright and automatically checked the time: 5:43.
“That sounded like gunshots,” I whispered urgently to Jason.
“Mm-hm,” he murmured back, his breathing elongating until I realized he was sleeping again. I jostled him awake. “I’m going to check it out.”
“What? It’s nothing. Go back to sleep.”
“Those were gunshots.”
“I’ve already forgotten about it. Go to sleep.”
After staring at his rhythmically rising back, I blatantly ignored him and propped myself on one arm, straining to hear additional homicidal noises: a screeching getaway car, sirens, panicked screams, running footsteps, more gunfire. Instead, I heard nothing. I checked the clock again to note the time for the police interview that I was sure would take place later: 5:48.
I racked my memory: there were five gunshots, right in a row. I was sure of it. Whoever pulled the trigger was shooting at one target; there wasn’t enough time between shots for the gunman to aim at anything else.
The gun. It wasn’t an automatic and it wasn’t a shotgun. (I was now an expert on shotguns since I had previously [the day before] shot one for the first time ever at a piece of wood in the middle of nowhere under the tutelage of Jason’s brother and uncle.)
“Are you still awake?” Jason asked.
“Yes. I’m going to check things out.”
A long sigh. “I’ll do it. What am I looking for?”
I didn’t know. A dead body, for starters? A trail of blood leading to the killer? OJ’s glove? I settled for: “Anything out of the ordinary.”
He got up and like a person with a death wish, started to pull back the bedroom shades. Incredulous, I lunged across the bed and hissed, “Jesus! Be discreet!” Even though I theoretically saved his life, he rolled his eyes at me.
As he left the room to investigate, I sat hunched on the bed, weighing our options. (Call the police? Hide?) Jason came back and muttered a dismissive, “Everything’s fine.” I felt the urge to check things out for myself anyway.
There were no lights on; the neighborhood sat quietly in the misty gray dawn. I stood off to the side, cautiously peering out of our patio window, my breath fogging ghostlike patterns onto the glass. The normally inquisitive cats were nowhere to be seen. At 5:54, I begrudgingly went back to bed.
Sleep came, but not easily. Every time I’d close my eyes, I’d feel myself slowly sinking into slumber, but at the last second, it would skip away. I couldn’t explain how convinced I was about hearing those shots – even today, when Jason told me I must’ve been dreaming. (I wasn’t; I was dreaming about the girlfriend in “Chuck” and we were shopping.)
But I think I will stop reading my forensic casebooks and allowing Jason to stop the TV on a violent horror movie while he falls asleep tightly clutching the remote control.
Oh my god, every time I hear weird noise or something crazy in the neighborhood, I look at the clock. You know, just in case I have to give a statement later.
Comment by Sara — October 22, 2007 @ 3:53 pm
Dude. I would be scouring the papers for DAYS.
Also, you have gun spam. Awesome.
Comment by Tessie — October 22, 2007 @ 3:58 pm
That’s creepy. Maybe someone cracked their knuckles really loudly. You know, five gunshots, five fingers…
Comment by Jess — October 22, 2007 @ 4:15 pm
Tessie,
“Gun spam” = fabulous. Since it didn’t appear to be from a real site (their “About” page still had the default WordPress copy in it), I deleted it.
Comment by Shauna — October 22, 2007 @ 4:22 pm
Gun spam? Anyway.
I am not right FOR DAYS after being startled awake by a murderer or would-be murderer. I’m with Tessie. I’d be reading the local paper for at least a week.
Comment by Artemisia — October 22, 2007 @ 4:31 pm
This story was brought to you by Shauna with heaping piles of “dramatic effect”. The shots were a dream along with her getting out of bed to investigate. I was the only one out of bed before 10:00am that morning.
Comment by Jason — October 22, 2007 @ 5:02 pm
J-
I DID SO get out of bed, remember? I had to pee. And then I investigated.
And those shots were REAL.
And I eventually got up at 9:42.
Comment by Shauna — October 22, 2007 @ 5:12 pm
Maybe they were shooting pesky local wildlife?
Comment by Flibberty — October 22, 2007 @ 5:31 pm
I love stories like this, about people waking up at 6 AM and then going back to sleep. Reminds me of the days before Mimi was born…
Comment by My Buddy Mimi — October 22, 2007 @ 5:35 pm
Maybe they were shooting gophers?
Comment by Gretchen — October 22, 2007 @ 6:29 pm
Um, is it deer season up there? Or maybe a deer got hit on the road and the police were putting it down? I don’t know. I’m stuck on the deer theory. But five shots at one deer is excessive. Five shots at a gopher? Maybe if you reeeeally hate gophers.
Comment by Erin — October 22, 2007 @ 8:31 pm
My brain immediately jumped to deer season, too, as I think it’s about that time of year. And that’s about the right time of day.
Comment by blacksheeped — October 22, 2007 @ 8:59 pm
Duck hunters shoot multiple shots in a row. We hear it all the time out here, however, it would surprise me if there is a place that close to your neighborhood with hunters, but you never know! Maybe someone set off some firecrackers as a joke.
Don’t either of you change your writing technique. We all frequent your site because of the “heaping piles of dramatic effect” from both of you. It’s better than reading a book because I know the authors!
Comment by Becky — October 23, 2007 @ 6:28 am
I sure hope it wasn’t deer or duck hunters! I’m pretty sure they’d be in trouble for discharging a firearm within city limits.
Comment by Shauna — October 23, 2007 @ 8:42 am