The squad was parked on the concourse in front of the school next to a flag pole. Its lights were trained on a body lying on the ground. A man, not in uniform, was waving at the approaching ambulance which jumped the curb and pulled up next to the body. Two emergency technicians sprang from the ambulance. McShuster had to get to work at Shorty’s Bar and Grill. He already had seventeen thousand in the bank and he wanted to add to it. He glanced at his school. He already had half his senior year over with.
“Ma’am, my hands really hurt. Officer Tracy … isn’t that your name?” McShuster asked.
“Handcuffs are necessary when someone brings a gun to school.” Officer Tracy held her hand, palm up, over the steering wheel. Then she leaned toward the passenger seat and picked up the wallet she had taken off him. “James McShuster. Is that you?”
“Yes.” He nodded his head, then lowered his voice. “Is that there Noah hurt? Did he get planted harder than me?” He started to lean forward before pain jolted him in a straight-up position.
We teach our children to respect authority. McShuster is plenty confused with how his night is going. Wouldn't you be? We all need time to sort things out. To process incidents. Honest. this stuff happens.