“But he doesn’t move,” Simon complained as he stood in front of the dog and called out: “Quentin! Wake up!” He hit the unmoving dog on the snout. “Quentin!”
Jill laughed what she herself heard was a slightly nervous laugh. “Simon, sweetie, don’t do that. Quentin is a…he’s a…still dog now.”
“But I don’t want a dog that stands still!” Simon stood in front of the chair Mike was sitting in. “I want alivingQuentin!”
Mike cocked his head to one side. “You know what, Simon, it’s actually completely impossible to get back someone who’s dead, no matter how much you loved them. You see, death…”
Jill could see that Simon had been about to lose patience and run off again until Mike said that word—death—with such weight. Now the boy stood still and stared at Mike.
“Death…” said the taxidermist, “death is a door with a spring lock.”
Simon blinked.
“And the pain,” Mike went on, “the pain of losing the one you love, or all the ones you love, well, that’s enough to drive anyone out of their mind.”
Jill was a little shocked at Mike’s choice of words. After all, this was a child he was talking to. On the other hand, he had such a good way with the kids, so maybe he was getting through to him with what he was saying. But no, he had lost Simon’s attention, and now Simon was tearing around inside the store again.
“Don’t touch that!” she called as Simon approached the rifleleaning against the wall directly behind Mike. She’d seen it as soon as they had entered, and if it had been anywhere else she would certainly have said something. But here, among all these stuffed animals, it seemed natural, just another of the many tools of Mike’s trade. They had to have used something to shoot that large deer and that bear, she had reasoned with herself. But now that Simon stood staring in frozen fascination at the gun it gave her a bad feeling. She saw his little child’s fists clench and open, could see how he itched to reach out and touch it, dangerous and tempting. What was it about guns that made them so irresistible—and to small boys in particular? It was like the ring in that movie the kids loved, she thought.The Lord of the Rings.Jill got hold of Simon and pulled him onto her lap. He pretended to resist, but she knew how much he liked it when she coddled him. Especially with his sister looking on.
“Now we all have to say thank you to Mike for making Quentin look so good,” said Jill.
“Thank you, Mike,” the children said almost in chorus.
Mike just sat there and smiled. He looked almost sad. Maybe it was because he didn’t want to be parted from Quentin. It was almost enough to make you feel sorry for him. Jill leaned forward and said in a quiet, comforting voice: “I want you to know that this is going to ease a lot of the pain in our family. I’m really looking forward to when my husband gets to see Quentin.”
Mike nodded. “I hope I can repay all he’s done for so many other families in Minneapolis, Mrs. Patterson.”
She smiled. “Thank you, that’s true. Kevinhasdone so many good things as mayor.”
“Like opposing anyone who’s tried to limit our God-given right to carry weapons,” said Mike.
“Yes, indeed,” said Jill. She felt the smile stiffen slightly on her lips.
“This military sniper’s rifle here, for example.” Mike picked upthe rifle. “It was purchased illegally, but it wouldn’t have been difficult to buy it legally. Isn’t it reassuring to know that we are such a well-armed people that everyone, absolutely everyone, is able to defend themselves against everybody else?” He smiled broadly.
Jill Patterson swallowed. “Of course. It wouldn’t be fair if only a few of us could.”
Mike’s eyes had grown more intense, his voice higher. He was speaking more quickly. She could see that Siri had noticed it too, she’d stopped stroking the dog.
“We’re able to defend our families,” said Mike. “Because dying yourself isn’t the worst thing. The worst thing is to go on living after the people you love have all been killed. Don’t you agree?” He nodded in the direction of Quentin, at the same time doing something with the rifle that made a metallic, oily sound. She assumed he was loading it.
“Since it’s your husband who makes all this possible, as I said, I’m going to do for him exactly what politicians like him have done for families like my own.”
Jill felt Siri take hold of her hand, and Simon stopped wriggling in her lap. Jill’s mouth was dry and when she spoke her voice sounded hoarse and strange:
“What would that be, Mike?”
“What he and people like him did for me,” said Mike Lunde as he looked down at the rifle, “was to put weapons in the hands of those who took from me everything I loved.” He raised the rifle to his cheek. “So now it’s my turn.”
50
Hector, October 2016
Hector Herrer saw that Gerard, the security man JTTF had sent over yesterday evening, was hearing something through his headset. Hector had suggested he be included in the same loop but Gerard told him this wasn’t part of “JTTF’s protocol.” He knew it had to be something important because Gerard, who had so far been leaning against the hood on the passenger side keeping a lookout, straightened up suddenly and went for the gun in his shoulder holster. Hector lowered the window on the passenger side.
“What’s up?”
Gerard held one finger to the earbud and lifted the other hand holding the gun—a Glock—to indicate that he was still listening. But Hector saw now that Gerard’s attention was drawn toward the store, Town Taxidermy. Hector took out his own gun and loaded it.
