She pointed the gun and took a step closer, placing the barrel against his right nostril, saying, “Now?”
The man squared his shoulders.
“I have been waiting for you, and for this, for years. Months. Days. Now.”
She nudged the end of the barrel deeper into his nostril. “I’m here for you.”
Their mother, stuck in a wheelchair outside the room, hammered on the locked door, shouting, “Stop it! Stop it right now with your nonsense!” Then leaned forward to hear whether they were stopping. Her bladder, over-excited, began flowing into the catheter that ran from her privates to a plastic bag.
“Bang,” she said.
“Bang,” he repeated, waiting for her next move.
“No bang!” yelled the old lady’s voice from the other side of the door as her plastic bag overflowed.
There was the loud, quick noise of bang and the old lady gave up hammering on the door, and also gave up all her hopes for the future. Her children were never going to learn.
The puddle on her nice hallway rug spread.