2 Bullets in 44 Seconds

I picked up his gun without thinking and pulled back the slide, dropping one bullet on the floor.

The light ‘thud’ of the bullet was so miniscule, in comparison to everything else going on, I almost didn’t hear it.

“Get your fucking hands off my motha!” I screamed so goddamn hard it was a miracle it cut through the shouting of three fully grown adults.

I barely ever held a gun before this moment and I didn’t know much about them. The first I knew was to always treat a gun like it’s loaded. My buddy who loves guns says that to me all the time.

The second thing I knew about guns was how to load in one the chamber.

“Take it easy, man. We were just try-”, said the jackass who thought it was an okay idea to fuck with me and my family.

“Get on the goddamn ground! NOW!” I yelled to both of the guys, cutting him off. It was clear, strong, and I sure as hell did not hesitate or stutter.

“What’s your problem man?” said the second guy, taking a step forward with his hands up. I pointed the gun on him and took a step forward too. There wasn’t much space between us, only about 10 feet between me and two men who were trying to break in. But I wasn’t going to show these two fucking idiots, that I was not backing down.

God bless the woman who raised me and took it upon herself to go and check out what the bump in the night was. God blessed her even more when she decided to take them both on, without knowing I was coming down to check too. I’m lucky I heard her go out to the cellar and immediately got up after I heard glass breaking. That’s the thing with New England people, they don’t like to wait to deal with bullshit and someone waking up my mother at 3:35am was bullshit and she was not going to lose more sleep over this.

The first guy put his arms behind his back and before I could even think about what he was doing, he pulled another gun, the same kind I was holding. Maybe, it was different, I don’t know, it was black and a gun, to me it looked the same. I didn’t know what to do but I didn’t let my face show any emotion or response.

“Listen” said the first jackass, “We got the wrong house, we’re ju-”

“You’re goddamn right you got the wrong house!” I screamed.

“Jimmy, go call the police,” said my mother.

“Ma, be quiet and get over here.” I said.

She is so hot headed, I knew there was a fat chance she’d let them go, “Absolutely not. These guys are going to jail. Go call the police!”

I loved her, but she could be such a pain in the ass sometimes. “Ma, get the fuck over here!”

“Don’t talk to me like that,” she said as she started walking towards me. The first guy immediately grabbed my mother by the throat and tried pulling her in front of him. For a woman of sixty-odd years you’d think she was a weak and feeble old woman, but she was the kind of person who left home at 18, got married, raised four kids, shoveled everyday of her life for 6 months of the year, for 6 decades, the wife of a construction foreman, survived the blizzard of 1978, was abandoned by her father, and lost her brother to Vietnam. She was NOT weak.

He had to use his strength to keep his arm on her, and he had to use all of his strength to get her to move. He was now fully turned toward my mother, trying to pull her in front of him and take her as a hostage. I could see the whole side of his body. They were now fighting facing each other, he thought she would be an easy target and an easy way out of here. The second dumbass started running at me, his hands were reaching out like he was going to have a good chance to get the gun from me, even though there was still a very clear 10 feet between him and me.

The third thing I knew about guns was how to pull the trigger.

My gun was still pointed at the dumbass who was going to run at me. I pulled the trigger, and forgot just how much kickback these things have. There was a flash and my ears started ringing. He went down, thank God, I thought to myself. For a split second, I forgot about my mother, and the first jackass.

Just as I was getting over the flash and sound myself, they had both flinched, but the jackass made the mistake of looking over and hesitating for a split second longer. I closed my left eye, aimed at his torso, hoping for a larger target that would hopefully hit him, and pulled the trigger.

He let go of my mother and they both fell down to the ground. My heart sank. I froze, I tensed up so much and didn’t know what to think. I kept squeezing the trigger.

3 seconds… 4 seconds… 5 seconds…

I could see her body shaking just a little as I started to hear her sobbing as she laid on the floor on her side. I felt my eyes water up and quickly pushed back the tears as best I could but they just kept coming. I wouldn’t do well in Vietnam, I thought to myself. It was over, it was seconds and now the worst memory I’ll ever have, the thing that will rob me of hours, days, weeks, and maybe even months of my life was over and it was less than a minute long.

I finally wiped my eyes dry and got a hold of myself before I saw my mother trying to get up. I put the gun back on the two guys, Both were in the same place I left them. They weren’t going to be a problem now.

As my mother struggled to get herself up, I went over and gently grabbed her back and lifted her without causing any extra pain, this was enough excitement for a while. This old t-shirt she uses as a night gown was dirtied with dirt from the cellar floor, but worst yet was some of the blood that was spit across her face and dirtied the top half of her shirt. It was a Magic Kingdom shirt she bought when we visited Florida. I knew it was going to have to get taken away for evidence. She likes that shirt too. It was super big, soft, and she always liked the way the characters looked on this one.

I almost didn’t realize I was still grabbing this gun, whiteknuckling it so hard my hand was hurting. It was a friggin’ miracle it didn’t go off. My index finger was still squeezing the trigger. I carefully let go of it as my mother went upstairs, I pointed the gun back at the guys, and looked for the button on the side to take out the magazine. I pulled the slide back again to check if there was one more in the chamber, like in the movies. The click and the ping of the bullet on the floor confirmed that this was the right thing to do. This time was weird, my ears were still ringing, which made the sound of the bullet quiet, but at the time this was so much louder and clearer than before. It was isolated. It was screaming now.

I went to the jackass who put his hands on my mother, and grabbed his gun and emptied it too. I got away from both guys as fast as I could before going up. At the bottom of the stairs, I looked up and my mother was there looking at me, she was making sure I wasn’t going to get hurt. Still trying to take care of me even when I was the one who saved her.

We both went upstairs to the kitchen.

“Come on Ma,” I said, pulling out a chair, “sit down.”

She sat down looking tired and sighed a heavy breath the way tired parents do when they’re tired of reckless bullshit.

I locked the door to the cellar and put the guns on the kitchen table.

“I’m going to call the police,” I said.

“Okay,” she said. She didn’t fight me on what to do or say, how to do it, as most New England mothers did. She just sat there with her face in her hands looking at the guns.

“911, what’s your emergency?”

“Hi, we need police at 148 Walnut Street. Two guys broke into our house and took my mother hostage.”

“Are you in the house with the 2 men?” the dispatcher said with her clear, articulate, and neutral demeanor.

“No yeah, I am. They’re in the basement. We had a fight and uhhh…. uh they’re both dead.”