Chapter 9
Landon
After I dropped Mom and Mercy off at the school, I went for a run. Then I worked out, showered, and spent the rest of the time putting away last night’s dinner dishes and doing laundry. I kept telling myself I was doing it all to help Mom out, which was partially true, but I was really keeping myself busy. I avoided the living room and Dad’s chair like the plague, and after the laundry was folded and put away, I went through the old shit in my room and bagged up a lot of it for the garbage.
It felt like I’d killed a dozen hours just waiting for the clock to strike noon.
At eleven-thirty, I gave up on waiting and headed to the school. During my walk, I thought about the two little boys in the Spiderman hoodies who’d approached Mercy this morning. Honestly, I’d been thinking about them off and on all morning. I wondered if I’d ever been so innocent, so inclusive and optimistic, as to believe that a simple piece of clothing could wipe away the differences in people.
I wondered what it would be like if we could all see the world through the eyes of those little boys. Would we be quicker to accept people exactly as they were without trying to change them? Such blind acceptance would have completely changed my relationship with my dad. Hell, he might even be alive today if his disapproval of me hadn’t sent his blood pressure through the roof.
If I ever had a kid of my own, I hoped I’d be more like those kids, and less like my old man.
Before he’d sent me on leave, Sergeant Young had told me to remember what I was fighting for. At the time, it had been a bullshit request, because I wasn’t fighting for anything. I was running away from it all. But, now? Now I had a reason to don my uniform again. I’d fight to preserve the innocence and purity of those little boys. I’d fight hoping that while this country remained free from outside threats, they could grow up safe, creating a world where people accept one another unconditionally.
I was beginning to see why the preschool was so damned important to Mercy. The future she and I both fought for was being educated in that building.
A few parents were already waiting in the pick-up area by the time I arrived at the school. I hung back and watched them interact with one another, trying to get a read of the group. Mom said all the kids attending were from the neighborhood, so I expected it to be a rough group. I was wrong. They were a friendly bunch, making small talk about the holidays and sharing funny stories about their kids.
One mom watched me out of the corner of her eye. I couldn’t tell if she thought I was a threat or was checking me out, but I stayed far enough away that she wouldn’t call the cops or feel encouraged to ask for my number.
The bell rang and kids emerged, barely contained by teachers who looked frazzled and ready to be finished for the holiday. Flyers waved through the air as kids spoke excitedly to their parents about Christmas presents and a giveaway at some gazebo.
The last three children were being picked up when a Caucasian couple came around the corner and zeroed in on the group. The woman was thin and wearing skinny jeans, high heels, and a jacket. The man had a wiry build, and wore low-riding jeans, sneakers, and a puffy coat. With the woman beside him, he strutted up to one of the teachers like he was the shit, carrying way more attitude than his build justified. “Hey, where’s her kid?” he asked.
The woman put a hand on his shoulder like she was trying to dial him back a click or two. He tensed, and she winced. Not a good sign. If I had to guess, I’d say this asshole liked to lay his hands on his woman. I pushed off the street sign I’d been leaning against, ready to jump in if I was needed.
“Ms. Gena, where is Toby?” the woman asked, her voice shaky and her tone concerned.
“Hi Sheila,” the teacher said. She smiled, but there was fear and uncertainty in her eyes as she took a step back. “Let me go get Mercy. She can explain the situation better.” She turned and hurried to the building with the couple hot on her clicking heels.
As the man stormed up the stairs, his puffy coat slid across his back, raising high enough to give me a peek at the gun tucked into the back of his waistband. He was packing, and he was headed for the school. Swearing under my breath, I ran toward them.
The teacher was buzzed in. She tried to close the door behind her, but the man grabbed it and stopped her. “Think you’re just gonna go in there and disappear?” he asked. “Fuck that.”
She tried to push the door closed, but he easily overwhelmed her and shoved his way inside.
My feet hit the curb as Sheila entered the school behind him. I made it to the door the second it clicked shut. I figured it was locked, but tried the handle anyway. No luck. Desperate to get in there and make sure the asshole didn’t try anything stupid, I scanned the area. All the kids were gone, and one of the teachers stood at the bottom of the steps, watching me like I’d just hurdled a fucking building and was about to rip the door off the hinges.
“You can’t go in there,” she said.
Winning her over was my best option for getting in the school quickly, so I released some of the tension from my shoulders and tried to appear less threatening. “Hi.” I forced a smile. “My name’s Landon Welch. I’m Beth’s son, and I’m a trained soldier in the Army. That man has a gun and he’s a threat to everyone in this building. I can help keep them all safe if you can get me inside. Trust me, you want me in there.”
Eyes round, she looked from me to the glass door, obviously still uncertain. “He had a gun?”
“Yes. You need to get me inside and call the cops. Please. My mom is in there.” So was Mercy, but explaining how I knew her and why I was afraid for her would take far more time than we had. “Please,” I repeated, gesturing for the teacher to come to the door.
She finally decided to trust me and rushed up the stairs. She reached the door, and with shaky hands, she fumbled with the keys as I tried to see what was going on inside. The man and woman stood just beyond the reception desk with their backs toward me. The man was gesturing wildly, and I couldn’t see anything beyond him. He reached for the gun hiding in his waistband right as the door opened for me. Pushing past the teacher, I rushed in.
I heard a spray.
“Fuck! What the fuck was that?” The man was flailing his pistol around like he was blind, surrounded, and about to get jumped. The weapon must have made contact with something, because there was a loud thud. Then it sounded like someone hit the ground.
“What was that? I can’t see shit!” He stopped flailing to rub at his eyes. “That fuckin’ hurts! What the fuck did that bitch do to me?”
Slowing my steps, I crept toward him.
Sheila saw me. “Larry!” she shouted in warning.
