Bang by Norah McClintock

Author:Norah McClintock
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: JUV000000
Publisher: Orca Book Publishers
Published: 2007-03-01T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eight

My mother is up early the next morning, which surprises me. Usually when she works late, she sleeps late.

“I have a doctor’s appointment,” she says, looking through from the kitchen at the TV in the living room. She’s watching one of those breakfast television shows, the ones that give you news and weather, but also give you cooking tips, decorating tips and interviews with celebrities.

“A doctor’s appointment?“ I say. I wonder if I should be worried.

My mother tells me right away, “It’s nothing. Just a routine checkup.” She drinks down the last of her coffee and puts the mug in the sink. She is wiping her hands on a clean dishtowel when there’s a newsbreak. A reporter is standing outside a police station. There’s a plainclothes cop with him who turns out to be a homicide detective. He tells the reporter that the person they’re looking for in relation to the shooting in an alley was probably riding a bicycle.

“Isn’t that terrible,” my mother says. She looks right at me. “I heard it was a kid who did it. Someone close to your age. Why do you suppose a kid would shoot someone like that?”

I don’t answer, which is okay. She isn’t really expecting an answer. I keep looking at the TV. The reporter asks about violent crime in the city and talks about all the people who have been shot lately. He asks the homicide detective why there is so much gun crime. My mother grabs her purse and kisses me on the cheek.

“I’m off at nine tonight. I’ll leave supper for you,” she says.

Someone knocks at the door and I hear my mother greet JD. She leaves and he comes in, backpack over one shoulder, just as the police show what they call a composite sketch of the suspect. I stare at it and really relax for the first time since it happened. If you ask me, the guy in the sketch doesn’t look anything like me. Grinning, I glance at JD.

“You were right,” I say. “Whoever they have as a witness didn’t see two guys, just one. For sure he didn’t see me—or you. Either that or they have a police artist who flunked out of art school.”

JD stares at me. He has a funny expression on his face.

“Are you okay?” I say.

He nods. “Can I use your bathroom?”

While he’s in there, I pour myself a big bowl of cereal and eat the whole thing. I make myself a peanut butter and honey sandwich and eat that, washing it down with a glass of milk. I feel great. The face on that drawing doesn’t look like me at all. I feel like dancing. If Leah was here, I’d grab her and swing her around. Who knows, maybe I’d even kiss her.

JD comes into the kitchen and says, “We better get a move on.”

“No problem,” I say.

I’m practically walking on air all the way to school. Sure, I’m sorry about the guy who got killed. But I wasn’t the one carrying the gun.

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