Chapter 3: .fragile/and/devious
Chris showed up only minutes later. He was with some friends in his Toyota Corolla. Chris had clearly been drinking. He wasn’t too drunk, but at least tipsy. I was crying into Scott’s chest as I saw Chris standing behind him. I quickly dropped Scott and ran over to my boyfriend.
A little after Chris arrived, the press started gathering around the crime scene. Then some drivers by stopped to have a look. We didn’t get many drivers by, since it was late at night. But all the cars that came by stopped.
The paramedics stopped me to have a look at me. Chris joined me to the ambulances. They checked my vitals, but found nothing wrong. I told them I felt sick. Once they were done with me I ran to the bushes to throw up. Chris held my hair and patted me on the back.
I could feel the sickening flashes from their cameras as the press took pictures of me throwing up. They showed the pictures amongst themselves, but didn’t even bother to ask me if I though it was all right.
The police were mostly inside the shop. They had called forensics to come up, and they had come rather quickly. It was one in the morning now, and I was deathly tired. I hadn’t heard more from Scott, even though he had gotten messages on his radio. I could swear he held back the tears himself.
I didn’t have much hope for Em. At least not when I saw the state Scott was in. I always knew Scott was quite fond of Em.
Once I was done throwing up I looked up to see Derrick. He didn’t cry anymore. He just stood there, with a vodka bottle in hand, taking a swig every now and again. The police didn’t even bother stopping him. I wanted to go over and take the bottle out of his hands, but I just didn’t have the power anymore. I couldn’t imagine how he felt. His parents were not only gone, but his father had also shot and killed two people (excluding himself). And I had a conversation with that sicko! I didn’t even smell the stench of alcohol off him as he entered the station. He looked so clean, so tidy. Even though his car was a bloody mess, I didn’t really judge him for that.
Derrick was giving his statement to the police now. Scott tried to pry the vodka bottle out of his hands, but Derrick didn’t flinch. I knew Scott well enough to know that he hated minors drinking, but now he just gave up.
More drivers by gathered. Some to help, and some to quell their curiosity. I didn’t really blame them for stopping. The road was blocked and there was police everywhere. A guy in black stared at me. He didn’t take his intense eyes off me. Not even once. This guy gave me chills, but once I stopped thinking about it, I forgot. So many other things were happening at once, I just couldn’t concentrate about this one guy staring.
The paramedics were looking at the addict. They didn’t seem to get contact with him. One of the paramedics came over to ask if I had talked to him. I told them I tried but didn’t get any contact. They nodded and walked back to the ambulance.
The strong man, Georg Kvaerner, was still talking to some of the police. They were trying to get the horrific details of what he saw when he entered the shop. I didn’t understand why they still wanted to know. The mystery was solved. They knew who did the deed. Then why was it so important to them?
Two o’clock rolled around. I had fallen asleep between Chris and one of his meathead friends, Bruce. I woke by someone shaking me slightly. It was Scott. He had a concerned look on his face.
“Can you help me identify the bodies?,” he asked nervously. He gathered me, Derrick and Chris. We were all walking towards the stretchers with the white cover over them. We could clearly see the contours of bodies under the white covers.
Scott walked up to the first stretcher and tore off the white cover. Derrick took at deep breath as he looked at his mothers face.
“That’s my mum,” he said quietly. “Her name is Rose Abigail Bashor.” Scott noted it down and whispered to an officer that the name corresponded with her ID. I wondered if Rose knew of the attack, or if it took her by surprise.
“That’s dad. John Bashor,” he said, even quieter. I got nervous as we went to the next stretcher. I already knew who we would find under. Scott knew it as well. He tore of the cover and I gasped. She had a bloody hole in her forehead. My suspicions of the druggie disappeared as soon as I saw this. The druggie was shaky; he could never fire a shot like that.
“That’s Emily A’idah, but you already knew that,” Scott wiped a tear from the corner of his eye. Yeah, he had been very fond of her. If only Em knew.
Scott, Chris and Bruce walked me back to the Toyota. Scott told me to drop by the station once it got light. I asked Derrick if he wanted to come with us. Scott told me it was fine, but Derrick had to come to the station as well. We climbed into the car. Bruce and some of Chris’ other buddies waited for a taxi.
The drive home was uncomfortably quiet. I wanted to start a light-hearted conversation about food prices or some other rubbish, but I just couldn’t. The sight of Em lying on that stretcher, pale and dead, killed me on the inside. I didn’t want to think, nor did I want to force conversation onto people.
Chris’ apartment was dark when we came back. Which was weird ‘cause he always had his lights on. He told me he had turned them off because of one of the recent bills. I nodded. That was an answer I could get behind.
I hadn’t been at his place for a couple of weeks. He usually came over to my apartment. Or we went out to eat at this tiny, but cosy, Chinese place. It was cheap, and the people were nice enough. I think that’s why I liked it there.
We had been thinking of moving in together. His place was big enough with two bedrooms, a kitchen, two bathrooms and a living room. He told me we could use the extra bedroom as a training room mixed with a sewing room. I quite liked to sew my own clothes and to fix holes in some of his clothes. My mum had taught me how to do it, and now I was fully capable of doing it by myself.
Another thing about Chris’ apartment was that it was only ten minutes away from the campus. A ride into university on my scooter would take less than that since there were small roads I could take. Sometimes, when I slept over at Chris’, I would wake up late and still get there in time for class. I still thought about moving in with Chris. But it didn’t seem right to bring it up now. Chris was heartbroken over Em’s demise. They had been best friends in primary school, and kept their friendship all the way to university. Em was even going to join us on our grand holiday.
Derrick sat down on the sofa. It was a pull-out sofa bed. It was pretty small but more than big enough for Derrick to sleep on. He took another swig of the vodka bottle and passed it on to Chris. He took a big mouthful and swallowed it at once. He slightly winced at the strong drink. Then he passed it to me. I shook my head. I needed my head to be clear for the police in the morning. Chris took another swig, when I declined. I didn’t want him to get drunk, but I didn’t want to stop him. Chris could sometimes get angry. He wasn’t the violent type, but he could say some pretty hurtful things sometimes. At least when he was drunk. What he said in his drunken state of mind didn’t usually hurt me. I was over that. I knew he didn’t actually mean any of it.
“Don’t drink too much,” I said to Chris as he took his third swig of the sweet sorrow. He nodded and put the vodka bottle into the liquor cabinet. Both Chris and Derrick looked longingly at it. I just felt empty.
“What happened to your father?” Chris asked. Derrick shrugged, as if it was an everyday thing.
“He was a drinker, and he had a lot of debt. Maybe that’s why,” Derrick said slowly as he was chewing on the inside of his cheek. “I didn’t think he would snap, though. That thought never crossed my mind.”
“Didn’t you have a single suspicion?” Chris continued to press.
He shook his head. “My dad seemed more quiet than usual, but nothing too alarming.” He put his head in his hands and started crying.
“It couldn’t have been him,” he cried.
“I turned the security cameras on before it happened. I’m sure the police will see what actually went down,” I said. That made him cry even more.
“Dad was never a bad person. Yes, he hit me and mum sometimes, but it was only because of the drinking,” Derrick franticly tried to explain.
“Calm yourself, you’re waking the neighbours,” Chris whispered.
“There had to be a reason why he snapped though,” I said quietly. My mind wandered off, as it often did. I started thinking about the moments before the incident. How happy they had seemed. Talking about quaint everyday things like hotdogs on the grill. No, there was nothing strange, nothing off-putting, about that situation. He didn’t give me the creeper vibe. No red flags went off as I listened to him talk. And just like that, he had gone and killed one of my best friends, shot his wife, and hurt a random druggie. It was horrible to think that this seemingly regular man had been capable of something that awful.
“Let’s go to bed,” Chris said. His voice slightly slurred. He was tipsy because of all the vodka he just shotted.
“Let’s,” I agreed. We went to the bedroom as Derrick made himself comfortable on the sofa bed. Chris made sure the door was locked so that no crazy reporters would come in and make the scoop of the century. I got undressed and found myself a sleeping shirt. It was one of Chris’ shirts and it was many sizes too big. I liked sleeping like that. It was comfortable. I got down under the covers. It all smelled like Chris. It was a sweet smell, with a little bit of musk to it. I enjoyed just lying there, smelling his bedding.
“What are you thinking about?,” he asked. He was shirtless as he climbed into bed. I rolled closer to him and he put his arms around me. When I wasn’t there he slept in the nude, but he knew it made me more comfortable if he wore a boxer at least.
“I’m thinking about today. How many crazy things happened in one day,” I was already drifting off. I was brought back to the realm of the awakened by a strong hand removing a stray hair from my face. I looked him deep in his steel grey eyes. His brown hair was shaggy. He needed a cut.
I leaned in and kissed him. It was a tense kiss that told him just how much I loved him. It wasn’t the kind of tender kiss we had grown accustomed to. This one was more desperate.
“Never let me go,” I whispered into his mouth. He nodded and slowly backed away from me. We were both out of breath. Our noses were touching and I smiled for the first time in hours.
“Never let me go,” I repeated.
“Only if you never let me go,” he said, smiling at me. I fell asleep with a smile on my face after a long day. At this point in time I didn’t know how much this event would change my life.
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