Page 58 of Holding On to a Hero
“Will!” Malcolm yelled. Hah. Craig knew my name now.
“I’ll be fine. It’s just all hitting me,” I managed to say in between breaths.
“It’s going to be okay. The shooter didn’t follow us to the airport, and you’ll get picked up at the other end of your flight. You don’t have anything to worry about.”
“That’s not – I’m not – I’m not upset because I’m scared of the shooter killing me.” I sat up and ran my hands over my head in frustration. I needed to get out of this car. We were almost at the departures drop-off point. I idly wondered where I was going to be flying to.
“Okay.” Malcolm’s voice wasthisclose to patronizing. Asshole. “Why don’t you tell me why you’re upset, then.”
Craig pulled the car up to the curb behind other cars unloading passengers. I unlatched my seatbelt and started to open the door.
“Will.” Malcom had twisted around in his seat so he could look at me face to face. “Tell me.”
I looked out the window. A TSA officer was patrolling the sidewalk toward us. “Fine,” I huffed. “I’m upset because the shooter was after me and not Cole. And when I saw the bullet holes in the photos, I decided Cole was the target. I drove to the ranch. I was there for the shooter to aim at. I pushed Cole into the door. He wouldn’t have been hurt if I hadn’t done those things.”
The TSA officer was standing a few feet in front of us. I started to pull the door handle to get out, but Malcolm said, “Wait,” again.
He fumbled in his back pocket and then opened his wallet. I heard Craig suck in a breath. Malcolm held the opened wallet up to the TSA officer, who gave him a sharp nod and wandered away to bother someone else.
“Malcolm! You resigned. How do you still have that?” Craig scolded shrilly.
Malcolm tucked the wallet back into his pants. “Calm down! Geez, overreact much? I have an appointment to go in to do the final paperwork and turn in my badge next week.” He rotated around to me again. “Now, first of all, you can’t go anywhere until I give you your ticket.” I felt my face heat. In my defense, it had been a long day. Or night.
“And second, I’ve got something to say to you. After that you can go.”
“Fine.”
“Good. Look, I know how you feel.” I grimaced. Apparently we were doing the talking portion before I got the ticket so I couldn’t jump out of the car and escape.
Malcolm gestured at his leg. “Before this happened, I was a federal agent for almost fifteen years. I tracked down some nasty people. And I learned how perps operate and I learned how victims react.” I tensed. I didn’t want to be labeled a “victim”.
Malcolm noticed. “Don’t get your back up at me. You were shot. It makes you a victim. It’s just a word. Deal with it.”
Craig groaned, “Oh, my god, Malcolm. It’s like you’re an emotional supporthoney badgeror something.” He put a hand over his eyes.
“Stuff it, Craig. Anyway, Will, I’ve seen reactions like yours a lot. I’ve even done it myself. But at the end of the day we both know you and Cole wouldn’t have been hurt at all if the shooter hadn’t done what he did.”
“Iknow! I have a therapist. She helped me after I found out I had shoved Cole into the door, and I managed to work through that, so I’m sure I can work through this. Can I have my ticket now?” I held out my hand.
“I’m not done. I know you’ve heard all that before, but here’s where I have maybe a new perspective to offer. I want you to think about power and energy.”
“Uh, okay?” Was he about to spout some new agey crap? I hoped my flight didn’t leave any time soon.
“The shooter is responsible for the harm he causes. But he doesn’t have to take responsibility for it yet since he hasn’t been caught. Right?”
“Uh, right.”
“In the meantime,youare taking responsibility for the harm the shooter caused. You’re taking the responsibility that should be on the criminal’s shoulders, and you’re putting it on your own.”
“Okay.” Was he done yet?
“And the effort and energy it’s taking you to carry that responsibility, that guilt, is effort and energy that isnotbeing used to be angry.”
“You want me to be angry?”
“Yes!” he shouted and Craig and I both flinched. “I want you to be fucking angry! I want you to fight! To put the blame where it belongs and be angry about it! Guilt just drags you down. Anger is fuel. Anger can be used to fight, to helpcatchthe asshole who did this to you, who putyouin the position of accidentally causing harm to someone you care about!” Malcolm’s eyes were blazing. I couldn’t look away.
My mind reeled with his words. If I dug down deep could I feel anger? Was he right? Should I be angry? Why hadn’t Lisa told me to be angry?
