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“This one day we were working away, just minding our own business, and I was unpacking some boxes into the freezer. Maggie was working the front counter. A couple of regular customers had just left the store, and then I heard the small bell above the door chime again, and I poked my head around the corner to see Reed and Quinn coming in. It was still cold out, it had been a long winter that year, but I was so happy to see their smiling faces and the last of the afternoon sun that followed them through the door.”
She pauses, swallows, and takes a deep breath. I notice her hands are shaking slightly. I put my cheesecake down on the coffee table and move from my seat, sitting beside her on the couch. Taking her hand in mine, I give it a gentle but reassuring squeeze.
“Go on,” I say softly.
“The thing is, the sun wasn’t the only thing that followed those boys through the door that afternoon. Oh goodness, Brinley, it was terrible. Just terrible.”
“What happened?”
“One minute I’m waving hello to the boys, and then the next minute a tall guy, maybe early twenties, I suppose, comes barreling in behind the kids. He was dressed in black, with a hoodie covering his face, and he points a gun straight at Maggie’s forehead, screaming things at her that made no sense whatsoever. Maggie just froze as solid as a statue, staring straight ahead. I’ll never forget the look in her eyes. She was absolutely petrified.”
“Oh, god, that’s awful.” My voice cracks and I have to concentrate on swallowing because my throat suddenly feels tighter than it did a minute ago.
“Itwasawful, Brinley,” agrees Ruth, a shudder passing through her. “I didn’t know what to do. This lunatic was waving a silver pistol all around, screaming bloody murder and my baby boy was standing not three feet away from him.”
“What did you do?”
“I didn’t think,” she says softly, shaking her head. “Clearly I didn’t stop and think. All I could do in that moment was react. I had to protect Reed. I had to protect Quinn. So, I dropped the box of frozen meals and ran toward them without thinking of the consequences. Reed threw himself at me, and Quinn fell to the floor when I dove on top of them, and then gunshots rang out so loud and clear that my ears rang and I couldn’t think straight. The robber turned blindly when I appeared from out of nowhere, and shot aimlessly at nothing, or maybe it was at something. We’ll never know for sure. But the bullet ricocheted off a nearby rack and within seconds I felt red-hot fire burning straight through my leg.”
“You… you were shot?” I swipe my thumb beneath my eyes, smearing my mascara, and try and gather myself together, but I can’t help the overwhelming feelings that are consuming me. Ruth’s story is absolutely heartbreaking. “I’m so sorry,” I whisper. “Was Reed alright? Was he hurt?”
“No. My body was lying directly on top of his body, and Quinn was protected by my back. Reed was lying on his stomach, his cheek pressed hard into the linoleum floor and I tried to cover his eyes with my fingers, but I know he saw things no mother would ever want their child to see.”
“That’s horrendous.”
“The shooter stared at the enormous pool of blood seeping out from my body. The bullet had got me good and there was blood splattered everywhere. Reed and Quinn were covered in it, it was on the walls, and they were screaming and crying and through my pain, I was begging for them to be silent.
“But then the shooter took a step closer to us and I started crying too. He walked toward us slowly, and I wasn’t game to open my eyes, but I heard him mumbling something under his breath about‘none of it being his fault’and I didn’t know what he meant, but then I opened my eyes again just in time to see him spin around on his heels and point the gun squarely at Maggie.
“He shot her just once, a single gunshot, a single bullet, and she collapsed to the ground behind the counter just seconds before the shooter turned the gun on himself. He died instantly at the scene and I watched Maggie take her last gurgling breath a few seconds later.”
“Oh, my god!” I gasp, shocked beyond belief.
“The police arrived with lights and sirens blaring, but it was too late and the damage had already been done. The two dead bodies lying on my floor were proof of that. I must have passed out at some point, from the pain, or from the shock of it all, or maybe it was from the loss of so much blood, but I woke up in a hospital bed a week later with half as many legs as I went in there with.”
“They couldn’t save it?”
“No.” She gives me a weak smile. “Turns out the bone in my shin had been shattered and there was so much muscle damage that it simply couldn’t be repaired. I got an infection four days later and the decision was made to take off my leg, or risk losing my life. Poor Reed was just a child. That time was so hard on him. I spent months in the hospital, and then months after that in a rehabilitation facility. I needed to learn how to walk again. I needed to learn how to live as an amputee. I will never be able to thank Quinn’s parents for all they did for us during that time. They were absolute lifesavers, keeping Reed with them and looking after him as if he was their own. They’re beautiful people.”
I wipe my eyes, but the tears simply keep falling.
“New York was a different time back then, there was more crime. The media barely even covered our story, and when they did I avoided it at all costs. Anyway, that’s how ‘Three Two One’ came to be written.”
Reed walks back into the room, and I’m grateful to notice his stormy eyes have softened slightly. The rolling thunder has passed, and now his blue eyes are just deep pools of what appears to be emotion and regret. His eyes meet mine sitting next to his mother on the couch, and they linger on my face a little longer than usual, like he notices that I switched places at some point, and maybe he likes it.
“You ready to go?” he asks.
“Yep.” I nod.
I hug Reed’s mom and thank her so much for having me over for dinner. She makes me promise to come over again another time so she can hear more of my music.
Following Reed outside onto the front porch and down the stairs to the street, I glance back over my shoulder and wave. And Ruth waves back at me, and I can’t help the sadness that creeps through me at the thought that I’ll most likely never step foot inside this house ever again.
Once she finds out what’s going on between us, and what I’ve done to her son, she won’t want me back here.
And for some strange reason, that thought cuts me to the bone.
Reed
