Chapter 10

Everyone wants to talk to me and ask me things. I had one them strange mind tests. The x-rayed my hands and found I broken my finger with the gun. The force of it did break something and this wasn't caught sooner. They didn't catch the Ivy stings because it didn't develop as quickly as it should have on my skin. The doctor said I have though skin like the Native American people. It's from my mom side as it was her side of the family with tanning then get sun burn. The detective that deals with people my age asked me for my whole story in as much details as possible. I had paper and crayons. I do my best to make a layout of the grave site and the car where it was parked.

"I hide here. There a glass thing here. I thing its for flowers. It had a surface so I could see him in it." I draw it, "Like this. It was there." dotted on the map, "The snake I didn't see it. But he leaned to look for me. I think he was looking for my shoe lights." I kick my feet, "I have lights in my shoes. I wanted to make friends and talk about them. But that didn't work."

"He leaned down looking for you and you think it was your shoes he was looking for." My mom shows them and how the light up, "Well that makes sense." A photo taken of them and they were bagged. My clothing from yesterday, "Did he see you?"

"He must have, he got my arm. But he 'agh'ed when he did." I pointed to my arm in a bandage still, "I slammed my hand over it when it sting and seen he dropped the gun on this side of the gravestone. I didn't want him to shoot with it. So I took it and ran. I hide again around here." I then mark the paper, "I peered and he snapped the snakes neck. He took the teeth out of his hand. He went to his car for something. He turned away and I climbed over the fence. I went where it was easy for me. I didn't know what I was touching. I got over and stood at the road. I see the store I was before across it. But the road was scary. I waited for massive truck to drive past. I look back and he seen me over the fence. He shouted my name and I was scared more of him then the road." I added a new paper to expand the road, "Four. Middle bit of grass. Three. The bike guy was coming along this way. I was panicking so I didn't count cars or notice their colours. I know a huge truck passed me here. I walked three and stopped for that truck. I made it to the middle and look back at him. I scrambled about the middle bit for anything to help me. I see the cars coming. I stood a moment thinking about the cars. If I wanted to cross the next half without getting hurt. Then there was a big van or truck that was going to fast for me to cross this part completely. I didn't see the motor bike yet. I crossed three went backwards one and was horn at me. I ran making it just and the bike blocked him from catching me. I said, 'he stolen me from my mom.' and the bike man punched him. He told me to go find help at the shop, which where I was going to." I draw these places in now, "I put my hand on this black car, I was tired from running and holding the heavy gun. I have my bag. So I put it into my bag. I didn't want to look like a robber. Only robbers in cartoons have guns." I froze a long time.

"Lea..." They pointed to the drawings, "What about this car?" The black one, "What can you tell me?"

"It was the wrong paint. I had to wipe my hands off from touching it. They used some sort of wall paint or something. It was flaky and sticky to my sweaty hands." I shivered without control, "The plate was covered with another. Two plates. I like looking at the pictures on them. A lot of cars from different states. There was a blue one under the normal one with a orange fruit on it. It looked like my auntie truck sized. My cousin is better at car models than me." The detective smiles at this.

"That really helpful." The write all that, "was there anything else?"

"Not that I could tell. The car park wasn't busy for me to cross. I was hot and scared. I was happy to be opening that door to a cold shop." I frowned, "They looked right out of a movie. All face covered like that. It felt like a movie." I shivered, "I screamed at them because the guns. I also realized I just brought one in with me. There was a bang when I jumped to the next isle. I was now the cool spy." I grinned, "Like Kim!" Refering to a cartoon I watched all the time, "Although I was to tired to roll like she does. I settled with moving to the last." I trying to think of the word, "lane." The nod, "Given thought that I knew I had a gun. I had a problem of it being to heavy and big for me to use like the shows and movies. But I also know how it hurts." I pat my arm an hissed in touching it. I frowned, "I just wanted to make them drop theirs. Like how that snake bite did. My arm sort was like a snake bite."

"You must never point a gun at someone's chest. Never like the shows and movies. You would have killed them." The detective makes this very clear as a lesson to me, "That arm pain would have been more like how your hands feel but inside them." That actually makes the pain understandable. The poison ivy stings and swelled my hands really badly like I wanted to cut them off. So when you say that pain is like having a bullet through the chest, well... I wouldn't want to shoot anyone.

"I didn't mean to hurt them that bad. I just wanted them to drop the gun. I could hear that other guy walking the middle lane. It was his friend alone with the store man."

"So there was only two?" I nod, "When you shot. What did you do?"

"I looked at how that man dropped his gun and leaned on the counter. I seen the shop person drop too. I got scared. But then the shop man was my height and waved at me. That friend of the robber looking for me rushed to his friend side. I crawled to the shop man. He got us to a lock room. I dragged that gun I used with me. But then I realized my mistake and kicked it away from us. I didn't want to be mistake for a bad person."

"Because." the detective wanted me to repeat with, "Shooting people is not ok." I repeated this again, "You defended you and that shop man. You only wanted to make that guy drop his gun. You didn't realize how bad it was." I shook at that last part.

"The gun broke my finger. Did if break his ankle?" I asked.

"Much worse. He isn't going to have a foot anymore." I shattered it. Sheesh. That is terrifying. I must have looked horrified because I was hugged, "You understand that guns aren't safe."

"Unless they have not bullets and that button is on." I muffled.

"Button, how do you know about a button on a gun?"

"When I was getting the window down. He was so focused on me. He pulled the thing that makes it bang. But it didn't. He growled. When I jumped he moved a side button. I hide behind that stone." Back to the maps. Made sure to point to the same spots, marked for a reason, "It went bang with the snake got him. I picked it up and that button was there. I didn't want it to bang again. I moved the button." I thought about it, "I did have to move that button when I aimed at that foot." the detective nods with me.

"You were aiming for his foot."

"Like my arm. I hoped it would make him. Freak out. I could lift it to aim for his toes or something."

"You weren't aiming anywhere else."

"I wanted to stub his toe." I shrug, "My mom broke her mug when she broke her toe on a table once."

"That makes more sense." The detective crossed a bunch of stuff off and writes new stuff instead, "You couldn't lift it so..."

"I used the floor to steady the weight. I made that button click. I didn't know it clicked before but it does." I show with my hands how I wrongly used it, "I couldn't hold it like the movies. So I held like this with aiming. This finger broken when it jolted as I pulled that part."

"You weren't able to hold it like you should have because it was heavy?"

"I tried to make it lighter with removing parts. But it was still hard to do." The detective nods with writing, "I hurt him, didn't I?" I pouted and even cried, "He was going to hurt that nice shop man. But I hurt him." I was conflicted. My head petted and I cried. My mom takes over and I was sleeping with leaning to her. They talked a bit.

"She's a good girl. I had rely on her sometimes. Her father isn't in the picture because he didn't want anything to do with her. I told him where to find us if he ever wanted to meet her. I just didn't think he would have gone this far. She has only ever been in trouble with school once and I blame all the schools for failing her. She might not be able to read and write. She might put her shoes on the wrong feet and given bad directions. Yet she has always looked up to my dad. She always tried to impress him. He is a retired cop. He taught me and my sister about being good Samaritans. I know he tries to teach this to my daughter and my nephew. My father is the one I credit for teaching her good morals. She knows about being good, not hurting others and mean words. She repeats things my father says to me when I am struggling." rocking me gently, "She would have never intended to be like James bond or whatever. Kim Possible is one her favourite shows. There is no guns on that show." the detective seems to calm her down again in a long silence.

"I really came in to this room with the wrong assumptions. She goes about explaining thing the wrong way around but she meant well. She was aiming down. I just couldn't tell what else she was doing in the footage. But now that she said it was to heavy. It makes me wonder." They did something, "This is my interview with Lea Fallown. Her mother Joyce Fallown with us. I am children specialist investigator Haynes." She said some numbers which was the case code and the time and date, "Conclude this interview with Lea sleeping from her recovery and trauma of remembering the events. Need to relook of the gravesite and the look at the gun she talked about." A button was clicked and I shot awake from that. Looking around scared, " I am so sorry. Was I loud?" I shook.

"I hear a click." she took out the cassette from her machine then puts it on the little table I been drawing stuff. She clicked the buttons and I may have shivered a few times. But now that I get it. I played with the buttons to.

"Not really the same clicking noises like that gun. But that did scare me." She took back her machine and fixed her buttons in someway, "the bullets." I remembered, "They were extra shiny. That's something I wanted tell you." She wrote that down instantly, "When I was making it lighter. The bullets were really shiny in the store lights." she nods.

"Anything else?" I think about it.

"The robber guns were much smaller. I could have got his toe with his own gun. The one I had was heavier and differently shaped." I get the crayons and flip a page, "Their was this. The one I had was... big." I try to draw it, "Not long." I pouted, "This one is thin like paper and this one is like a box card."

"Thicker. That gun was thicker."

"That's it."

"What grade is she in?"

"She keeps failing the first grade. All the schools don't listen to me. She just dyslexic. She can say things backwards but it would be correct grammar." that is written down, "The special education schools that they want to send her to arent right for her. She's much smarter then they assume of her." I heard this conversation many times. The detective noticed my reaction about it.

"You make any friends?"

"How can I when the teachers tells me I doing everything wrong? One teacher said I was attention seeking and pretending. One teacher called me stupid. We keep moving schools faster then anyone would get to know me. I am always alone trying to not be a trouble. I only ask for help when I can't do it or don't understand. But I ask more then those around me. Everyone thinks I am problem."

"You're not." My mother tries to encourage me.

"They just don't know you well enough." the detective also feeling bad. She write all of this down, "I am going to make sure you get help and get into a school that will. You deserve something better when you are better."

I take in those words. Because it was the first time someone that wasn't family complement me in such a way. My good behaviour was restaurants don't count.There was suddenly very mature words in the back of my mind, words I don't think I heard anyone say to me and isn't the normal voice I think thoughts in. Yet I knew this voice, it helped me go across the busy road, told me to count and watch the speed of cars. It told me about noticing reflective things in the graveyard instead of poking my head over the stones. It read the stuff in the glove box of his car and said something about old cars using the click thing at the window. I listened to it with taking the gun, and now I respect this voice for making a good call. Taking it from him was less likely for him to shoot me. Having it to save the shop over was a bonus.

"Are you ok?" My mom looked worried.

"I don't know. I am as ok as I can be... My hands and arm." I looked at them, "But I want to say sorry to the man I took his foot away. I want him to be sorry for almost hurting Mr Elston. Elston works hard at that store. Everyone goes to his store for cigarettes and snacks." I waved my feet about, "I am sad. I am unhappy at a man that is meant to be my dad. No dad does that. He doesn't have the right to be called dad. I was taking to think of a new thing to call that man." The detective was still writing things, "I guess I also want to prove them schools wrong too. That I am a good person. But shooting a mans foot doesn't seem like a good person thing. Nothing ever going to change, not really. It's still like pond water. It seems like the only person that makes me see right is often just myself. Mom is hard working trying to feed us. I want to do right like grandpa."

"You're a very mature thinker, even if you don't have right level of education to hold those words better."

"I like the science shows. I like the factory shows too. I knew about the car door because of that. Ford factory make 150 cars a minute. From scrap to drive." I shuffled my papers together and give them to Haynes, "You need these more then me." She takes them and adds them to her file, "Me being here is difficult for us. I hope that I can leave soon. Money doesn't grow on trees."

"I have a strange question." She pats about and took out a bagged up thing, "What or where did you get these?" The strange bundle of necklaces.

"The middle box in his car. You arm goes there when you drive." I notice she had the recording running again. She must have pressed it a while ago when I woke up again, "he had a lot of stuff in there. I found a bottle of water there. I originally woke up because I was hot and thirsty. But then I notice the car wasn't moms. Mom has less space inside hers and I make mess of the back seats on accident all the time. His car was clean from that. I could not get out of the door on my side, so I climbed over to the chair in front and messed with his paper box. I may not be able to read. But... D. then a whole word. S. E. E. R. It were letters. names on letters on the top corners. If I found help, I could tell them who took me. But he caught me and put me back in the car then. I had to put up being good until I had time again. That gun was in the paper box, which was why I didn't fuss to much. Guns are dangerous."

"That's very clever." She notes, "You watch a lot of tv." I shook.

"My grandpa tells me how to be smart all the time. If I am lost or something seems wrong, then don't panic and look at what I have. Making chances is how to survive any problem and that it works both ways. I can give myself the chance to escape if I use what I have in ways that help me. If the person wants to make things easy for them, they use simple things to cut my chances. Grandpa always said not to eat or drink things from a strangers. I had to pretend to drink orange juice so that I could wait for a chance. I would also have a bottle to use to distract him later where needed. Before I left the car, know that all cars have alarms for scaring thieves. I needed to find a phone or some excuse or money. I looked for things I could help me later. I found that gun which helped me know what could go wrong if I don't keep pretending."

"So what did you find other then the gun and the papers which you already told me the names on it? You say that those necklaces were his..."

"Middle box under your arm. He had bottles of dirt and salt and plants bits. A crystal stone which I did consider taking but I didn't. Them necklaces were string I could use for something, that's why I took them. Maybe the charms would be worth something, but I don't know how works. I was looking for things to help me escape. I hoped made a wade of money. There wasn't any. Three quarters in the cup holder. I originally took my juice with me, I thought could empty the bottle and replace it with water. I did take gun out the box before, I didn't know how it worked but he couldn't use it as I ran away." I sighed, "He found me anyways. I put it all in my bag and took my doll. She gives me courage. Like grandpa said, keeping calm is important. She makes me calm."

"You're really smart and you remember small details really good. Better then a lot poeple your age."

"I wish I remebered the letters on them picture plates. Grandpa would have tracked them down to thier house with those." Haynes snickered at this.

"What did you talk about?"

"He wasn't in the car when I woke up. We were parked at the store. I looked for things and left the car with the alarm going off. I hide in the alley near the bins, I didn't like the smell but if it meant loosing a stranger." I shrug, "He called my name, so he clearly knew me. But I didn't get out of hiding. He walked up, picked me up and glared at me for taking stuff out of his car. He puts all of it back and asked me how did I get out the car. He gave me a orange juice, assuming I would drink it fast from being locked in a hot car. He had water in his middle box, I know it wasn't funny smelling and it had no labels." I shook, "I partly lied in saying it was tv. My brother told me and showed me about the clicker on car doors. He didn't open my orange juice and I didn't ask his help. I used a trick with soda to open both our drinks. The factory that makes soda talked about air pressure. I told him about it too. I was trying to make him bored of me. That worked, he got really bored of me talking about soda and adverts. He knew mom doesn't have a lot of money, he asked me how I watch tv. I said grandpa house. He seemed confused and shocked that I had a grandpa. He is weird. How can he think I didn't have grandpa, grandma, brother, uncles and auntie? I confused him furthr with talking about mountains, because we have family up there."

"Our cousins from my mother's sister side live up in the Smokey mountains." I nod.

"He didn't know that. He thought it was just me and mom. He was rude to me after that. Assumed I was going well at school and assumed I had a lot friends. I got mad and told him that money doesn't mean happiness. That we are ok without him in my life." I frowned, "I sort of worked it out by then. Mom talked about what he could have looked like if I met him. He spoke at me. He may have tried to see at my eye level, but he wasn't at my level. I talked about cats because he was being silent and scary. I didn't like the silence. He was annoyed with me but I hoped he would leave the car again. But instead being buckled in, we were driving. Short drive. But he was talking to himself. 'What do I tell them?' he asked a few times. We passed the same house twice before parking at the cemetery. He nearly killed us with driving strangely, wavy like. I yelled at him for it. Something like, 'don't you know how drive? this isn't bump cars at a fair.' When we parked he asked me what were grave stones as we were at the cemetery. I unbuckled and pointed at the names I seen and were told before. It was a lot of folks grandpa and grandma talked about when they have stories about growing up." Haynes tilted at me, "I don't have to read the frist names, I seen the last names before. Like Fenton and that one guy that died in the car crash, that a story that gets mentions a lot." My mom laughed nervously.

"My family side has a lot stories and she listens to them all the time. Fenton was my dad's uncle that died in a crash. We were just talking about it recently because my cousins found an album of his photos." My mom explains, "She really is good at listening these sort of things."

"She's very clever to think like she does. She a bit beyond her age."

"But the doctors think she's fine. Although she is dyslexic, she uses it to her advantage. She had to mature with being left behind school grades. If she wasn't failed by a system, she be mid second grade. Her lack of words is schooling. She could write just fine, just backwards." She sighed. I snuggled really close to her because the next part makes me feel bad. Talking about him aiming.

"What was the last thing he was talking to you about? Before you made it out of the car."

"When I told him about some graves, he made a call to ask someone for some gin. Or maybe he meant that someone was named Gin. He was distracted and I took things from the middle box again. I knew I could maybe use string or the reflection of the small mirror. I took them into my bag. I closed it before he turned back into the car. He opened his paper box, I knew it was where the gun was. I pressed the button for the window to go down. I flinched as he aimed but he couldn't do it yet. I kept my eyes on him and waiting for the window. I was unbuckled and my other hand grabs me bag. I flinched at the pull. it didn't go. He growled about that. I took my doll then. I jumped out the lowered enough window. I hurt myself but I scrammbled around a grave stone. I hide things from sight. I looked for reflections to watch him. I used a mirror with I think was how he knew where I was. The second bang and his 'agh' sound. My arm stung, I hold it like. He was turned away and I out my doll in my bag. I zip it closed. I make moved. I grabbed that heavy gun off the floor. I didn't want him to use it again. I hide around another stone. I can hear him open the door. I put that heavy thing in my bag. I seen the fence but I am not a good climb. I picked the easiest way up. I looked back and he had that snake sorted. I fell on the other side of the fence, he seen me. So I went right up to the road. I looked at all that busy trucks. That big truck blaring loud hurt my ears. But I looked back and he was running to me. I was scared more of him than the road was. He looked really angry. I looked at which cars moved faster and stood in the spaces that cars would hit me yet. I made it to the centre and he jumped that fence. I looked around for anything to help me. I didn't have time. I looked at the next set of on coming fast moving. I did the same thing of walking on where cars wouldn't hit me yet. But I knew I had to go backwards and risk him grabbing me. He looked really mad. The biker guy was really helpful at cutting him off. I said what I said to turn the biker against him. I am glad he believed me over him. He said go to the store. I was goin anyways. I was there before, it was the same shop that he came out with orange juice and soda."

"Ok. You can stop there." she nods.

"The robbers... one guy was taller then the other. The tall guy walked around, he has louder foot steps."

"That's interesting detail remeber." She adds it.

"well You got me thinking about it. I am trying to understand why clicking noises freak me out." She sighs.

"Guns click to reload. Its when the bullet that is fresh goes into the long part." I stare at her blankly.

"But why would it click with the safety button?" I asked.

"The inside stops the bullets being fired, that click is to make it clear for the bullet to fly."

"Then I shouldn't be so scared of it." I muttered, "Maybe its what comes after that scares me. Click then bang. Maybe its what that is. I can't be scared forever."

"Its ok to be scared of something." she sighed and repeated the line of numbers and a new set of numbers for maybe the shop case, "This after waking her with the sound of the recorder being stopped." She then does time and date, "Personal note, details matter." She stopped it and I shivered at that. She puts everything away, "You really are a good person. You saved someone's life, that more then anyone your age. You're a hero. You stay honest and brave when you talk to a crowd. The judge would like to hear your story. They might think your amazing too."

She left and I looked to mom. She cried and hugs me. We went to sleep together. I couldn't sleep with my mind thinking to much. I stared listlessly in hoping things could be better. I wanted better. I was thinking what or how to get better. I also felt bad for hurting someone so life changing like that. That voice back in my mind said that maybe shooting the ankle was better. Something like the speed and shape of the bullet I used could have bounced the floor and shot up through the robber or something. That sounds scary.

"Lea. I know you can hear me but your mother cant." That isn't my voice and its someone in the room. In how I was laying with mom, I could not see who it was but I can tell they were on the side of the bed, stood near us, "I am an undertaker. Not only did you save a man, you helped us in a difficult place. You saved three men from dying, those two that were stealing would have had the death sentence. You gave a man a chance to do something good, when asking him to help you run away. He wasn't in the right state of mind. More importantly, you made it back to your mom. She needs you. It will be tough ahead, but we are going to help you."

They walked out of the room, for sure. I think I knew that voice. I wonder if he was one them black outfits from the alley. I just have to believe that things will get by, I want to know if Mr Elston is ok and if the biker was ok. I wonder if the two that robbed the store were doing because they felt they were no other choose. I hope my hand swell down quicker, I can go home faster... less money wasted being here. I hope all that stuff I said was enough. I hope not talking about the invisible people will be the right thing to do.