A woman caught on a precipice in her life contemplates complicated question about right and wrong as she makes a decision that could change her life.
The Moment
Have you ever thought about what changes a moment into an historic moment? I think I might be there right now … on the precipice between passing through the dimension of time from one second to the next and plunging head first into the glaring spotlight of the world. I feel the gravitational pull of fame, but I don’t really want to feel it. Not this way at least. I’ve never been the kind of person who would do what I’m about to do. I’ve always been the opposite. But I feel the rush of adrenaline as I contemplate what’s about to happen. All of the gloom that’s surrounded me for days disappears in the anticipation of my coming fame.
I grew up in a wealthy home. I was the middle daughter so not as much was expected of me. I didn’t have to carry on the name like my elder brother. I didn’t have to make all of the right social connections like my older sister. I didn’t have to make everyone feel younger like my little sister who still makes my parents smile by just walking into the room.
I was the nerd who always made good grades, but never starred at a sport or on stage like my siblings. I was the one that no one ever heard, but I didn’t mind. I think my place in the background of the family allowed me to grow a good heart, one that reveled in the accomplishment of those around me. Instead of jealousy or envy, I felt happiness every time one of my clan did yet another thing that brought them glory. I was content with my quiet anonymity. Once in a great while I’d feel a little left out. I’d wonder why I seemed to have zero talent. I’d wish my family and friends would see something redeeming inside of me … even if only my loyalty to them. But I was always on the outside looking in at everyone else’s reactions to each other. It was the way of the world for me. Even my husband seemed to be more connected with the family than he was with me. I was all settled in for an unchanging life behind the scenes of the lives of everyone I loved. Then my daughter was born. Everything changed.
She is the most beautiful soul in the world. She is physically attractive, but her glow is much deeper than her skin. She radiates love. When she enters the room, everyone turns their head and looks. She makes you smile and want to be a better person. She can do anything … I really mean anything. She’s athletic, smart, charming … everything anyone in the world would want to be. But the thing that stands out about her is her reflective quality. All of those sterling qualities inside of her are reflected into every person she meets. She can see into everyone’s soul and bring out those same qualities in those around her. Just being alive, she makes the world a better place. She makes everyone a better person. She made me a better person.
From the moment she was born, my status with my family changed. Suddenly everybody wanted me around all the time. I brought her and she made every one of them feel better about themselves and the world. She was a magnet and I was her holder. I came with her. I was important to her. So I was suddenly on the inside looking out. It felt good.
It is my daughter who brings me to this place where I stand today. Or maybe not. I’m trying to examine this dilemma from every angle like I always do. I’m trying to see the part of myself that’s the best … that will choose the right thing to do. I’m trying to resolve the moral questions that are spinning in my head. I feel like I’m standing on a battlefield surrounded by mines that will blow up my life if I misstep and take the wrong direction. I want to do the right thing. That’s really all I want to do … but I’m not sure what the right thing is. In this post-truth world where we all now reside in this country, it’s hard to weigh the facts and come up with any real answer.
I’ve been in such a funk for the last few months. That’s partially because I want the world to get better. I want the world to be a place where my daughter’s amazing soul can thrive. I want my country to do the things that will make that a reality. To me, that means taking care of the little guy, providing a way all people can enjoy good health care, and providing all people with the opportunity to have a good education.
I guess I'm talking about leveling the playing field … so that the divide between rich and poor will lessen … maybe even disappear. That’s what our country has always been about. We’ve always been on the inside looking out at the world. The best thing about us as a country was that when we looked out … we looked out for those who needed our strength. We were all about the essence of love for all that is good in the world and the ferocious power to bring down the evil that lurks in the nooks and crannies of our human existence. We have been a powerful force of good. I say that with full knowledge that we also have made major mistakes in every generation.
The last year has been torture for those of us who have ever felt the shadow of a bully or the choking tendrils of hatred. We have felt the fragility of democracy as we gaze in horror at the train wreck our presidency has become. We have seen close up and personal what having a bully sociopath as a leader can do to the best of countries. We have survived, but I don’t know if we can continue to resist the trajectory we’re following now.
This makes me feel empathy for the Germans who stood aside and watched as Adolf Hitler took control of that nation and turned it into a killing machine that thrived on the fuel of blind hatred. There were many among the population who were horrified at what they saw happening to their country. Most of them did nothing. They didn’t participate in the genocide, but they turned their heads. I know none of us who weren’t there can understand the horror of being in a place where insanity has become the rule of the day. I know many must have turned their heads because they were afraid.
I guess that’s where I am now. I have behaved in the same manner the last year as the Germans did when confronted with a mad man in control of their national wealth and power. I’m not saying we’re facing the same thing. Hitler was a uniquely sadistic soul driven by the desire for genocide. Our leader is probably equally self-centered, but perhaps not as filled with hatred. I don’t know. Sometimes the lines blur when he expresses his power in hatred as he does almost every day on Twitter. And I can’t get the picture of how he treated that handicapped reporter out of my head. It was vicious and mean-spirited … just like something a bully on the playground would do to a handicapped child.
The other thing about him that’s almost as scary is his ignorant greed. He rejects what every scientific study and common sense tell us is happening to the world around us. He gives power to people who want to take all of the crumbs of mercy from the hands and mouths of the poor and sick. He appoints as the leader in charge of our educational goals and policies a woman who wants to shred public education. How can that serve our people when education is the bright pathway to the future for our nation’s children? He refuses to consider the devastation that unchecked gun use can cause. He …
I’m sorry. I had to pause for a moment. I’ve never been what you would call an “anti-gun” person. I grew up around hunters and know they’re often the most careful about use of their weapons. But …
I’m sorry. It happened again. I can’t seem to avoid the tears that form when that subject comes up. Guns, I mean. Let me talk about something else for a moment … maybe it will help me get to the point. My daughter … that’s a subject I can always talk about … my daughter …
My daughter’s school was always a lovely place to visit. The kids were so friendly and motivated. I went there often … for parents days, field trips, pageants, plays, sporting events. People there wanted to listen to my ideas. They could understand me when I tried to explain my ideas about what I thought would be best for our children. It was a place filled with hope and love. There was nothing that should’ve caused anyone to perceive it with hatred. But …
I’m sorry … I promise I’ll get through this.
Someone did … feel hatred toward the school. I don’t know why. I’ve thought about it so much and … I don’t know …
It was a man who didn’t even have a child enrolled at the school. He was a tech expert from the county office. Everyone liked him. Something happened … I don’t know what … and he just broke. He came into the school with a semi-automatic weapon hidden in his equipment box. He used a bump stop to alter it into a fully automatic gun. He shot and shot … he walked from room to room … shooting. He …
He …
He …
He killed forty children. That’s the number so far. There are twenty seven more at the hospital in intensive care. My daughter is there. She’s still alive, but she’s been in a coma for ten days now. The doctors don’t know if she’ll make it.
So many families are suffering … so many beautiful voices lost to the world. Such beautiful little children … gone …
And what’s really weird is that the man who did it wasn’t a monster. Oh, he turned into a monster at the end sometime before he took that gun into the school where little children were gathered to learn and play together. But there was nothing to give anyone a hint it was going to happen. We’ll never know what caused his break from humanity because he shot himself. He went into a bathroom and shot himself. He left a note that said he’d waited until he was inside a closed place where no children could see before he pulled the trigger on himself. He said he didn’t want to cause the children any more trauma. I don’t know what he meant by that. Did he come back into himself and realize what he’d done? Did he really think it would lessen trauma to see the monster who was spreading death and mayhem die? I don’t know.
We were all suffering the essence of pain. Pain filled every thought of every person who had children at that school. Pain and fear filled every teacher’s mind as they contemplated what had happened and how they could ever go back to teaching. But the teachers were so brave. They all stood tall for the children and their families. They all declared that they would be back for us, that they wouldn’t allow madness to end their dedication to enlightening the future generation with the best education possible. They were wonderful.
And our local school board and county commission were great too. They talked about starting some local policies to try to eliminate the possibility of owning converted automatic weapons. Everyone here was so supportive.
Then the NRA threatened to sue the county if they passed such an ordinance. The whole thing became a war of talking heads yammering about the Second Amendment. I’m quite sure our forefathers would agree they didn’t intend for the constitution to protect the right of every person to bear arms made specifically for a war zone. Anyway, what I think doesn’t matter to those so sure of their purpose.
It was upsetting that anyone would think that having access to an automatic weapon was more important than children’s lives, but I guess we all knew that was the way it would be. Reporters asked questions. Politicians tried to run for middle ground and avoid doing anything that would make any real difference. It was the same old story we’d all heard too many times to count. It was all terrible, but what really got to me was the way the president tweeted about it all. He tweeted that it wasn’t a gun issue. He blamed the whole thing on the people of this county. He blamed the school board. He blamed the principal of the school. He blamed the teachers. He called the parents whiners. He shouted out that he was the greatest supporter of children who’d ever lived. He promised us everything and gave us nothing … nothing but mean-spirited tweets that hurt us all.
That’s what brought me to this precipice where I stand. That’s what made me feel I had to do something. I don’t want to be one of those people who just turn away from a problem that needs to be solved. I don’t want to turn my head and allow a bully to change the trajectory of my country’s greatness into survival by immersion in blind hatred. I want to do what’s right.
I bought a gun. I hold my hand around it in my purse. I stand only a few feet away from the dais where he’ll stand to give his speech in just a few moments. I stand in the midst of a group of his supporter. It was so easy for me to get here. I’m the parent of a fallen child. I’m from a family known to support the rights of all Americans to the protections guaranteed by the Second Amendment. He probably thinks I’m here to support him because he refuses to even consider any tightening of any law that would interfere with the use of arms.
I wonder what he would think about gun control if he realized that the open carry law that allows me to carry this gun anywhere I want brought it right here to a place where he’s the one at risk.
I don’t think any other person could hurt our country as much as he can. Even though he may have surrounded himself with others who would bend to his will, none of them will rip apart the fabric of our democracy. He will. He is doing it every day. He is hurting America and Americans every day.
If I kill him, the threat to freedom will be gone. But is it the right thing to do? It’s not a thing I ever thought I would do or even consider. It’s not a thing I want to do. But chaos has taken me into unknown territory. If my daughter survives, I want there to be health care not only for her but for all of the survivors. I want my child to live in a free nation. I don’t want her to live in a world where bullies are empowered by the actions of our leader.
I tighten my hand around the gun. I hear the crowd murmuring things about making America great and locking up Hillary Clinton. Tears come to my eyes again as I stand alone in a crowd of thousands. I don’t agree with them, but I don’t want to hurt any of them. My grip loosens and I close my purse. I cut short my path to instantaneous fame.
Maybe the strongest thing to do is pull the trigger. Maybe that’s what his definition of a winner would do. But I can’t do it. I’m just not that person. I’m not a killer.
I turn away from the stage. I feel all of my gloom return. As I feel the gravity of fame desert me, my adrenaline rush subsides and I’m left hovering in the present with no answer to how I could help make America great again. I’m surrounded by a crowd of people saying things I hate. It hurts to hear them.
My mind is still racing. There’s got to be another way. I think of the great men who have led this country. I wish for a moment I could be them … that I could lead others away from this miasma of pain. I wish that I could use my voice to lead us all toward the America we should be. But I have no voice. I’ve never had a voice. I was born with no vocal chords. That’s why I was always in the shadow. My daughter was my voice … is my voice … but I can make no sound. Suddenly I feel my daughter inside of me. I feel her strength and know what I have to do. She’s like that. Stronger and better than me or anybody even though she’s in a coma in a hospital bed fighting for her life. I’m sure now of my purpose in being here.
I smile and turn back toward the stage where the president is now standing. I can see in his face that he’s high on the sound of the crowd. Their voices fill the hole inside of him. Even my daughter would have trouble finding the beauty inside that self-centered man, especially since he’s become addicted to mass love.
I can’t compete with the voices around me, but I stand on a chair and raise my arms. I use my hands to convey the words I want to say. I stand for the children of this country. They will not go hungry or without an education. I will not stand aside and see their futures killed by the rash actions of a man who hears only his own voice or by those who abandon America’s ideals for their own agenda.
My hands feel powerful as I convey that this inept leader will fail, as I stand there in a crowd filled with his base. My heart and mind have taken me much further and I feel the pull of history once again. This time it does not scare me to contemplate the future I might bring. I will run for president. I could be the first mute president. I will help all Americans keep the ideals that make our country great. I will be a voice for freedom.
Beautifully written and full of surprises. I hope this gets wide readership. Although, secretly, I thought you were going to have your heroine pretend to shoot the president, but instead, turn the gun on herself in front of all those supporters. I actually think that would have a greater impact than her decision to have a run for president.
I've often wondered what we have to do in order to become famous enough to sell our writing. Perhaps you are suggesting a way. I'm really tired of those going through White House scandals getting rich on their books after. But I would like to find out what Omarosa is hiding… "Too terrible to tell."
You've penned a calm, yet disturbingly accurate picture, one that fully justifies the unexpected last paragraph. This is a unique perspective that deserves multiple readings. Bravo!
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