117 The Virgin Shooter (2/2)
”Bullshit. I started it. Or maybe Bobby did.”
”I fired the first shot,” Li Yang insisted. ”I was the one that shot that guy in leather.”
”You shot him?”
”Yeah.”
”Then so did I, twice. I shot the guy next to him next, twice as well. And Olga and Bobby got a guy apiece.”
”How do you know?”
”What do you mean, how do I know? I saw it happen.”
”I didn't.”
”What?”
”I was confused. And I couldn't see well, I was looking down the barrel when I fired and the flash blinded me for a couple of seconds.”
”Well yeah,” Jake said suspiciously. ”It was over pretty fast. Tell me something. Did you ever shoot a gun before? Or was that the first time?”
Li Yang swallowed a couple of times, and said:
”That was the first time.”
”Aah, alright then,” Jake said. ”Now I understand. Listen, what happened wasn't your fault.”
”I think it was.”
Jake sighed.
”I see I have some serious explaining to do,” he said.
A few doors down the hallway from their room, Harper was seeing the same thing.
”Stop bitching about paying for everyone's rooms, Charlene,” he said. His sister had invaded his room the moment she'd claimed hers, and proceeded to make many hurtful remarks about Harper's sense of justice and intelligence in general.
”You think I don't have the right to bitch about paying for everyone?” she hissed. ”Why didn't Bobby pay? Why didn't Olga?”
”Because Jordan wouldn't have taken a nose ring with her snot on it,” snapped Harper. He checked himself. He sighed theatrically, and said:
”I'm sorry, Charlene. This is getting out of hand. We all agreed at the start that half of what everyone had was automatically communal property. You have enough anklets to outfit an Egyptian dancing troupe.”
”It was twenty four karat gold! That lying old Jew - ”
”He is Greek,” Harper said. ”I got his business card. Now, listen, Charlene. I promise you than soon enough, you'll see Olga without a single ring in her face.”
The utter improbability of Harper's prophecy struck Charlene speechless for a moment.
”I'll become the Queen of England before that happens,” she declared.
”There's no such thing as the Queen of England,” said Harper, as detail-minded as ever.
”Exactly.”
”Charlene,” said Harper, ”The moment we get to Jimmy's farm, we'll pool our communal resources. That will be the moment your throw one anklet less onto the pile.”
”And a ring,” said Charlene. ”Don't forget about the ring. It was pure silver, and had a precious stone.”
”It was amber.”
”Amber is a precious stone.”
Harper sighed again, and this time no theatrics were involved. His head was starting to ache. He said:
”All right. One anklet, gold, one ring, silver, one precious stone. I'll remember that.”
”The weight's important to. Do you remember what it weighed, or should I remind you?”
”Why don't you do that when we get to Jimmy's farm,” said Harper. ”And in the meantime - how about we both get some sleep? We're supposed to be out of our rooms by one, but I want to leave earlier than that. We've still got a long way to go. I hope we won't have any more incidents like today's.”
Charlene didn't move to leave. She was uncharacteristically silent for a while. Then she said:
”That thing with those assholes at the crossroads. It doesn't bother you, Harper?”
Harper was in the act of lying down on his bed. He jerked upright and said:
”Did you shoot anyone, Charlene?”
”No. You know I didn't.”
”Neither have I,” said Harper.
”I see,” said Charlene. She left right after that, and Harper had to get up from the bed anyway to wedge the door shut. He walked back to his bed and stopped and looked around.
”I didn't shoot anyone,” he told the empty room. Then he switched off the bedside lamp and stretched out on the bed without taking off his clothes. The room wasn't warm enough for that.
After a while he got up and took the gun he'd gotten from Bobby, and put it under his pillow before lying down again.
He didn't shoot anyone, but there was a first time for everything. And whatever happened for the first time always happened unexpectedly.
It was better to be prepared.
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