Living Dangerously - Part 3

As she hid there, she listened intently to any sounds that would indicate the whereabouts of whoever was entering the house. She wished she had not left the bedroom in the state it was and that she had hidden the cake and costumes. What will become of her surprise now? Then, it struck her that it might not be her brother coming in. What if it was his newfound lover? Or worse, what if he was coming home with her for some night-time trysts? She’d awkwardly be in the way of her brother’s orchestrated rendezvous for some pleasure, wouldn’t she? Why was nothing going according to plan this night?

In the perturbation of her mind, she’d not noticed that after the door opened, there’d be no audible sounds to signal the presence of another person in the house. When it occurred to her, she found the silence unnerving. She felt it was going to be better to quickly announce her presence and just pass the need for any surprises this year. She had a full year to plan for what she was going to do next year. This one was already a big flop and there was no need to carry it any further. Her mind so made, she was just about to move out from behind the kitchen’s door when the racket of clanging utensils stopped her dead in her tracks.

It was so sudden the disturbance that she jerked in unconscious reflex as a soft exclamation of “Jesus!!!” escaped her lips. But the noise of the commotion was louder so her exclamation wasn’t heard beyond the confines of the kitchen. She quickly peeped through the open kitchen door and saw the silhouetted form of her brother bent over in the corridor. From the sounds she could hear, he seemed to be re-arranging some items on the floor beside the door between the dining room and the corridor.

Since, he had his back to the kitchen and will not notice her move from where she was to the second entrance to the dining, she thought if she was to keep up with her aim of surprise, this was the best time to move. She wished she could move to the bedroom rather than the dining room but any moves in that direction will only end up in her revealing her presence to him and that’ll be the end of all her efforts. As she made her move, she prayed silently that OB didn’t enter the bedroom.

She was almost at the door when she noticed OB move swiftly. She quickly ducked, camouflaging her presence by the dark area around where she was and the presence of the ironing table. She forced her body to remain motionless even fearing to breathe as OB’s hearing could pick that up. She listened intently and was relieved when she heard his light footsteps go past the area where she was crouched and in the direction of the sitting room. Her fears returned however when the light was switched on in the dining room.

But, OB didn’t linger. He walked straight into the sitting room where the lights there were switched off. She had succeeded in not causing him to be suspicious of her presence. She took a deep breath and quietly exhaled to relax her tensed nerves. She was doubly pleased that he didn’t go into the bedroom as well. Everything so far had worked to her favour. She was glad she didn’t break her cover by revealing herself earlier. Now, it was time for the surprise. She heard the hiss of the TV as it came on. It was time to get her surprise on the road. She rose from her hideout.

In very slow, measured and stealthy steps, she walked from the dining room into the sitting room. To make her surprise so perfect, OB had his back to her. He was obviously waiting for the DSTv to boot up and had the remote control on his left hand which should have ringed odd to her if she was paying attention. And he was also standing up, another pointer if she was attentive. But all her focus was on not giving up the element of surprise. She concentrated on being extremely quiet as she moved to a position just behind OB. Satisfied that she could leap on him from where she now stood, she took another deep breath, crouched a little to gain enough force to propel her body and powering her muscles, she leapt into the air in the direction of her brother.

What happened next was in a blur for Juliet.

It was as if OB was waiting for the jump. He spun around the moment her feet left the floor. She then saw him raise his right hand in that same motion with which he turned. She looked at his face and saw what was the most unfriendly countenance she’d ever seen since she came to know him as her brother. The hand which was being raised was not empty. It took a fraction of a fraction of a fraction of a fraction of a second for her to recognise what it held. The business end of the barrel was pointed directly at her face. The motion carrying her toward this pointed barrel was no longer within her volition. Her flight path had been spelt out the moment she jumped and nothing she could do now was going to stop her.

As she noticed her brother’s finger move within the enclosure of the trigger, her chest tightened in acute fear. She wanted to scream, to tell him it was his sister Juliet and that she was only trying to surprise him. She opened her mouth for that exact scream, but nothing issued forth. The air to even scream had been sucked out of her by the shock of what she was witnessing. As she choked on her attempt to scream, she saw the new look on her brother’s face. It drained what life was left in her. It was contorted in the pain of recognition. Her brother also opened his mouth in a scream!

“Juuuuuuuuuuulieeeeeeet!” OB heard his voice but didn’t recognise it. He didn’t even ask it to scream. It was reflex. Totally voluntary. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. The figure he was firing at was no assailant. This was his sweet sister. This was the only person he had in the world in whom he could confide. She was the one who always made him remember he had a birth date and was always full of surprises in an endless array of making his day special. The only one who would stay up late at night to make sure he was safely in bed. And he’d not fired with a mind to disarm. He’d fired with the intent to kill. How’d he have known she was here. Why didn’t she announce herself when he walked in.

That was when it dawned on him. That smell. Yes, that different smell he’d perceived. It now clicked in his mind. That was Juliet’s perfume. If he was not so distracted by the fear of there being a criminal in his home, he’d have deciphered its origin. It was his sister’s. His only sister. His mother. His blood. His family. He had pulled the trigger. If he could turn back…

The velocity of Juliet’s jump carried her through and she, still stupefied in shock, rammed into the still, equally shocked OB. The force sent both sprawling over the centre table and boisterously rolling over and crashing on the sitting room floor.

OB was first to react.

He quickly divested himself of the firearm and turned around to look at his sister. She laid with her back to him, her head by the left front leg of one of the upholstered chairs. She was motionless. The blood drained from OB’s body. With shaky hands and the speed of a snail, he put his palms on her left arm. He thought he felt a pulse and his hope kindled. Then, it struck him that if she was still alive, speed was going to be his ally in making sure she survived what he’d just done. Just before he spun her around, he noticed that there was no exit wound at the back of her head which would have been had the bullet hit target.

So, buoyed by high hopes, he turned her around. These hopes evaporated when his left hand around her neck touched something liquid and warm. Yes, it was her blood. “Juuuuuuuuulieeeet!” another involuntary scream escaped him again as his heart skipped several beats. “No, no, no, what have I done,” the tears came of their own accord. “God, no, no!”

Then, Juliet moved her arm and tried to sit down.

It was a shocked and unnervingly petrified OB who looked at her. He quickly turned her neck around and saw the cause of the bleeding. She had a gash running the length of her neck. It was bad, but not fatal. If Juliet was going to die, death was going to have to do better than that, he mused to himself, gratefully. When he turned around in relief to observe for the first time the state of the sitting room, he realised that she’d be scratched by the protruding edge of the centre table as they both crashed into it by the force of her jump. It was a design of the table and the reason it attracted him in the first place and why he bought it. And Juliet had never liked it from day one.

He got up and went for his First Aid box.

After stitching her up and berating her for her knack for surprises, they were trying to restore some sanity to the sitting room when he saw the pistol. In their relief, it had been forgotten. As he picked it up, Juliet walked in from the toilet where she’d gone to admire OB’s dexterity with cotton-wool and plasters.

“From the look on your face, I can tell you know why the pistol didn’t kill me.”

“Bad habit,” was OB’s terse reply.

Juliet frowned. That was not the answer she thought she was going to get.

OB knew she wouldn’t understand and instead said, “Just pulling your legs.” He was smiling when he added, “The bullet jammed. And so even though I pulled the trigger, it didn’t fire.”

“Thank God oo,” was Juliet’s response. But her brother had never been a good liar. She didn’t believe a word of that explanation though she had no knowledge of pistols and guns. She let it go. She’d just come from a near-death experience. She wasn’t going to let that stand in the way of her gratitude for life. She was already rethinking the need to keep up these birthday surprises.

OB was sombre. Yet, grateful. It was a part of his being a creature of habit. He’d always carried a weapon as a security operator back then and always, always kept his guns in good, working conditions. He could clean all the weapons he carried in the period with a blindfold and his left arm tied behind his back. So, none of his weapons will ever have jammed. However, he made sure he kept the safety on. ALL. THE. TIME. And since he never fired a weapon, except for the one time he went to a firing range with a colleague, he never acquired the habit of taking the safety off. And it was this habit he didn’t have that made it possible for him to still have a sister. That kept him from fratricide.

It was a dangerous life everyone lived in the country. OB was grateful it didn’t make him go to the grave with the guilt of his sister’s blood on his hands.

- END -