I pulled the object toward me to the revelation that it was my father’s old shotgun. I’m surprised that mother had kept it. The gun had to be worth a decent amount of money at a pawn shop. I didn’t have a clue as to whether it was loaded or not, or how to check that other than by pulling the trigger. But it gave me an idea. I set the gun back down and removed the broom from the door handles so that I could get out of the closet. I made my way to the living room with the shotgun and waited for mother to come back inside.
When mom stepped back inside the mobile home, I saw why she had gone outside. As I peeked around the corner, she was holding an iron crowbar in her hand that she must have retrieved from the car. Mother hadn’t noticed me yet; her attention was focused on the now-empty closet.
