When I pick up the phone it's my mother. She asks me if I can reach my daughter, Alice. She says to tell Alice not to come today because she's not feeling well.
“Is Steve there?” she asks.
“No, he's still in Michigan. Do you need something?”
“Does he have a gun?”
“No, he doesn't.”
After a moment, I say, “He's got an airgun, Mom. It would just hurt you, not kill you.”
“Oh.”
“I’m sorry, Mom. There just isn’t any easy way out.”’
