purse and laid it gently in front of him. After Officer Hamilton confirmed the revolver to be official government property, the crowd, giving Linda some space out of politeness while inching forward out of curiosity, waited for the inevitable. Linda reached into her purse and pulled out the red card. The card didn't seem special. It was small, only half the size of a postcard, with rounded corners and a smooth edge. The one mark on it was an ordinary bar code.
'Son of a gun,' said Barry.
'Killed by a librarian with a red card,' said Jerry. 'that's got to be embarrassing. '
'I knew she had it,' said a voice Linda didn't recognize.
'Like hell you did,' came a muffled response.
Officer Hamilton slid the card under an electronic reader and, with a nod, confirmed its authenticity.
'How long you been holding it?' asked someone from the crowd.
Officer Hamilton checked the reading. 'Four years,' he said, impressed at Linda's self-restraint. the crowd nodded its approval.
'My goodness,' said Barry. 'Most of the other tickets have been circulating a lot faster than that. '
'Sure have,' said Officer Hamilton.
'How long have they been out?' Barry asked.
'A couple have been out for almost a year and one for about nine months. I'm not sure about the other two. I'd have to look it up. '
'Looks like another one's going back into circulation,' someone said. The crowd hummed with excitement.
Officer Hamilton led Linda away from the crowd. Linda glanced back at Sarah who signaled that she would be in the waiting room, an unimpressive area set off by grey partitions. It contained little more than four chairs, a television dangling from the ceiling, and two ash trays. 'thanks,' mouthed Linda.
They ended up in a small, secluded room in the back of the station. Linda took her place in a wooden chair behind an aging table. On a corner shelf stood a drip coffeepot containing the last few drops after a long day.
Officer Hamilton held up a Styrofoam cup. 'Coffee? Looks like there's enough for one more cup. '
'No thanks,' said Linda. She could have actually used a cup of coffee, but not from that pot.
Officer Hamilton sat in the chair across from Linda. 'Well,' he said, 'the enforcement isn't over. '
'Until the paperwork's done,' finished Linda, quoting the handbook. 'this is the hard part, isn't it?'
'There's no hard part,' he said. 'It's all easy. ' He smiled, placed an official looking form on the table and put on a pair of bifocals. He read the form quickly to himself, vocalizing a few key phrases, orienting himself on how to proceed.
'Are you ready?' he finally asked. Linda nodded.
'What is your name?'
Linda gave him a 'you've got to be kidding me' look.
'These are standard questions, Linda. Just humor me. '
'Linda Jackson. '
'Gender?'
Linda didn't even answer. 'Female,' said Officer Hamilton in response to his own question. 'Marital Status?'
'Widowed,' said Linda.
'Oh yes,' he said. 'that's kind of why we're here, isn't it. '
'It is. '
'Where did you execute the enforcement?'
'In my living room. '
'Why did you execute the enforcement?'
'Is that important?' asked Linda.
'We track these things for statistical purposes. '
'I think the real question should be why didn't I do it sooner. '
'Why didn't you? You've had the red card for almost four years. '
'I don't know. At first I didn't want to use it because then I wouldn't have one. But later it just became a challenge. '
'A challenge?'
'Sometimes he would egg me on, dare me to use it. '
'He knew you had a red card?'
Linda wasn't sure how to answer this. She knew she wasn't supposed to tell Larry about the red card.
'Just answer honestly,' said Officer Hamilton. 'You have nothing to worry about. You performed an enforcement while in possession of a valid red card. That's it. It's that simple. These questions are just to help us improve the program. '
'He knew,' said Linda. 'He's known for years. It was a mistake to tell him because then he would test me. It was like Russian roulette. '
Officer Hamilton made a quick note.
'Is that alright? Am I in trouble?'
'Well some people view it as having an unfair advantage over other citizens. But in this case it doesn't seem to have made a difference. '
'But it should have made a difference. ' Linda looked at Officer Hamilton and wondered if she was getting through to him. She wanted to tell him how things were supposed to be different, how they were supposed to get better, slowly, incrementally, but better. Her plans were never to kill Larry but to keep him alive, to keep him alive forever. 'It should have made a big difference,' she said. 'He knew I had a card. '
'Had he been drinking?'
'He'd been out messing around. He always seemed to be going someplace. '
'Why did you shoot him?' asked Officer Hamilton, trying the question one more time.
'I really don't know,' said Linda. 'I think I just snapped. '
'Linda,' he said. His eyes narrowed. 'People with red cards are allowed to snap. It's their duty to snap. '
Officer Hamilton pressed on with questions for almost half an hour. How did you feel? Where did you keep your card? Did the handbook prepare you for your role as an enforcer? Linda answered as best she could, but she was ready for it all to end.
Finally, Officer Hamilton put down his pencil. 'that's it,' he said.
'Really?'
'That wasn't so bad was it?'
'Not too bad. Anything else?'
'Just a word of advice,' said Officer Hamilton. 'If you ever get another red card, don't tell anyone. I don't even know who has them. The program is random and anonymous. That's what makes it work. If you start taking those factors out, the program loses its effectiveness. '
'Of course,' she said, a little embarrassed at having made such a careless mistake.
Officer Hamilton released Linda and led her to the hallway out. 'Do you need a ride?' he asked.
'I'll go back with Sarah,' she said. 'I could use a restroom though. '
In the restroom, Linda checked herself in the mirror. Her lipstick had faded from the right side of her upper lip, and black mascara crept up towards her eyebrow. Her blush had cracked except for the glow on her nose. The night had been hard on her face; she looked old and tired. She freshened her lipstick, brushed her hair, and killed the shine on her nose. It seemed futile. She would need to check
Linda left the restroom and walked down the long hall to join Sarah in the waiting area. She paused at the end of the hall, dwarfed by the grey partitions that separated the waiting area from the rest of the police station. She could hear voices, several of them, mingling, Sarah's dominant among them.
Linda looked above the partition and saw a small television, muted and pathetic, hanging from the ceiling. The television's color had shifted long ago, and a bald, blue man in a sweater dispensed advice. She thought she might have seen him before. He seemed vaguely familiar. Was his name Richard? She wasn't sure, but he seemed
