Little Red's Café

THREE

It looks so out of place, laying there on the red hardwood floor next to my moms black nightstand. I've never seen a gun in person so why would mom have one? How long has she had it? My mind is racing with a what felt like a million questions. I am not sure how long I had sat there for with my hands folded in my lap, my eyes fixed on the gun, too scared to move. The metal was cold and it felt like it stained my fingertips, I can still feel it. Eventually Trix found me and laid against my right leg that was still stretched out in front of me. She had bounced up the stairs and stopped when she saw me sitting there. Confused, she licked my face as if to ease the anxiety, fear and shock that was now clearly displayed on it. When I did not move she laid down beside me pressing her body against mine. Having her close brought me a relatively small amount of comfort.
Suddenly my phone buzzed in my pocket, breaking the deafening silence, making me jerk. The small sound had grounded me enough to realize I had started stoically crying. The woman who was never a violent person, had a gun. Wiping the dried streaks of tears off my face with the back of my hand I pull my phone out of my pocket and see Aunt Ruth's name displayed.
"Oh Crap" I breath as I press the answer button and press it against my ear realizing I didn't tell her I made it home safely.
"Anny?" She says, I can hear the concern in her voice. "Did you and Trix make it home safely?"
"Hey Aunt Ruth, yea we made it home. I'm sorry I forgot to let you know." I sniffle, wiping my nose on the collar of my shirt.
"It's okay darling, I just wanted to check on you before we turned in for the night, Tom says hey. He wanted me to ask you to stop by the fire station tomorrow for lunch." She pauses a moment, "Are you sure you are okay? You sound like you've been crying dear." I wanted to tell her how right she was about that.

Instead, I just glance back at the gun laying on the floor. "No, yeah everything's okay. I'm just exhausted, I was just about to take a shower. Tell Uncle Tom I'll see him tomorrow. Love you guys." I say as I push myself to my feet.
"Love you too Red. Get some rest. Call me if you need me okay?"
I swallow hard to hold back the emotions. I wanted to ask her about the gun. My whole life I felt like I could go to her with the things that I couldn't talk to mom about. Anything about the past, about college and any questions I had that mom was so vague about. Somehow this... this was different. Mom had an open door policy about everything unless it was about the past. I couldn't understand why she would keep this from me.
"I will." I said scrunching my nose to help ease the burning of the tears threatening to escape, then the line went quiet.

Sliding the phone in my back pocket I walk back across the threshold of my moms room and bend down. Pinching the butt of the gun between my thumb and pointer finger to carry it into my room at the end of the hall. Suddenly I wonder if it's loaded, knowing nothing about guns I make a mental note to look up how to properly handle one. I stand there for a moment in the middle of my room, trying to figure out where to put it temporarily until I get some answers. I look from the black metal framed bed, dressed with a white duvet to my unorganized closet. It's contents visible from where I was standing due to the fact that the doors broke off the track months ago. Mom called Uncle Tom to come help her fix it, but he kept saying he was too busy at the fire station. That's when I decided to put it in the top drawer of my dresser under a pile of single socks whose mates are forever lost. "Such an obvious choice," I groan, "I'll have to find a better place later." I say to myself in a yawn.

I decide to take a shower in the morning. My body was so exhausted and aching from sitting on the hard floor for so long. Glancing at the clock I realized It was already after midnight. Taking off my uniform I toss it at the wicker clothing basket next to my door watching it narrowly miss and land next to it on the floor in a heap. Using the last bit of my energy to pull on a big t-shirt and crawl into my Queen size bed, snuggling under the blankets. My eyes start feeling heavy, as if the lack of sleep from this past month was the weight, I start to drift asleep. Before I'm fully taken under, the metal frame of my bed squeaks as Trixie jumps onto the bed and plops down against my body. Instinctively my arms wrap around her and she lets out a deep sigh and for a moment I forgot about everything as I slip into a deep slumber. Mom being gone, the strangeness of her murder and the gun that was under her bed started to fade like a dream. It was just me and Trixxie and everything was alright again.