A Ship Made of Paper

a blank, but it’s clear in his slightly narrowed eyes and the stubborn, impervious set ofhis mouth that he is ready to deny everything.The bullet has gone through the side ofthe tent about a foot above Ruby’s head, and a brilliant, slow-turning rod oflight shines through the hole.Daniel stares at it for a moment as ifit were the presence ofGod.

The tent is too small for the adults to stand up.Daniel rises into a simian stoop and gathers Ruby into his arms.The feel ofher, the com-fort ofher heft, causes him to straighten, and the pressure ofhis head against the top ofthe tent unfastens it from its pegs.The center pole wobbles and a moment later the entire tent deflates, tips over.

“You’re wrecking it!”Nelson screams.

”Where’s the gun, Nelson?”Daniel says.His voice is calm, gentle.The children are alive, unhurt, the anger is gone.Life is so precious, time is so short, we’re all in it together…

“You’re wrecking the tent!”Nelson continues to shout.

”Da da da,”Hampton says, sobbing, the tears coursing down his stricken face.He places his hands on Nelson’s shoulders, pulls him close.

”Da,”he cries.And then, lifting his face, he shouts it out again, toward heaven.

“Where’s the gun, Ruby?”Daniel murmurs into her ear, and she points to the Styrofoam cooler, which is now partly concealed by the collapsed tent.Daniel places her on the ground—her frightened little hands grip his trousers—and he pulls the green nylon offthe cooler’s lid, opens it up, and there, on top ofNelson’s heap oftreasures, lies the pistol.

“Okay, please, everybody stand away,”Daniel says, retrieving the gun.

But Hampton cannot understand what Daniel is asking, and Nelson is staying with his father, and Ruby adheres to Daniel.He picks the gun up, careful to keep his hand as far as possible from the trigger, pointing the barrel straight down at the ground.He backs away, moving as ifafraid the gun might spontaneously fire again.Hampton, Nelson, Scarecrow, and Ruby follow him, and now he stands in the middle ofthe backyard, holding the gun and trying to resist the impulse to heave it into the trees.

And now he is pounding his heel into the ground, digging out a hole so that he might bury the gun, but after a few moments the madness ofthis is apparent and he stops.

Hampton presses his hands on Nelson’s shoulders, instructing him to stay exactly where he is, and then he walks over to Daniel and reaches for the gun.“Da,”he says softly, in a somehow reassuring way.Daniel, at a loss, anxious to be rid ofthe gun, relinquishes his awkward possession ofthe pistol, and then steps back, gathers Ruby in.What did I just do?he wonders, as he imagines Hampton firing the gun.But Hampton puts the safety lock on, and then flicks the magazine catch, which is right behind the trigger guard, and then slides the magazine case open at the base of the grip and empties out three cartridges.He puts the cartridges into the pocket ofhis pajama bottoms and hands the empty gun to Daniel.

They walk toward the house, just as Iris is coming through the back door and stepping out onto the porch.Her initial frown ofbewilderment is quickly supplanted by alarm.To see her lover, her husband, two children, and a gun is more than can be understood, but it can surely be evaluated.

“Daniel, Jesus Christ, what is going on here?”

“Da da da,”Hampton says, excited to see her.

”Did you know there’s a gun in your house?”Daniel says.

”Da da da…”

“Tell me what’s happening?”

The terror ofthe gunshot is just catching up to Daniel, like those near misses on the highway that take a minute or two to rattle us, to make hands shake and hearts race.“Did you know there’s a fucking gun in your house?”he says, his voice rising.“Did you know that?”

“Yes.Sort of.It’s not something I think about.”

“Da da…”

“It’s not something you think about?Well, your son does.Your

son…”His voice curdles around the word.He hears it himself, won-ders for a moment at the ugliness with which he has infused it, and then he sees Iris’s suddenly steely gaze.Fuck it.Yet even the phrase, and the way it stiff-arms his feelings, the way it pushes him out oflove and into the emptiness and foreverness ofhis own solitude cannot stop the anger that is enveloping him like a trance, and when Nelson walks past him, Daniel is astonished by his own sudden desire to throttle the boy.

“Da da da da da da.”

“What is he doing down here?”Iris asks.

”He got up, he came down.What was I supposed to do?”

“Oh Jesus,”says Iris, while making a series ofcomforting gestures toward Hampton.Easy now, it’s okay, I’m here, easy, easy…Nelson is next to her now, pressing his forehead into her stomach.She staggers back a step, touches him, holds him.

“What in the fuck are you people doing with a gun in your house?”

Daniel says.

“You people?”Iris asks.“I don’t believe what I’m hearing.”

“You know what I’m saying, don’t try to turn this into somethingelse.”

“Well,wepeopledon’t always feel safe when we’re living in a house surrounded byyou people.”

“Da! Da!”

“All right, Iris.”He feels tugging at his shirt and looks down at Ruby.

Her face is flush, her eyes immense and glittering.

“Why is he saying that, Daniel?”

“It’s okay, honey.We’re going to leave now.”

“But why is he saying that over and over?”

“He’s not feeling well, baby.”

“He’s not feeling well?”Iris says.

”All right,”says Daniel.“You supply the answer.Your kid just fired a bullet two inches over her head, so I’m sure this would be the right time to fill her in on all the neurological details.”

Daniel lifts Ruby offthe ground.“Sorry,”he says.“There’s something about a kid getting a bullet in the head that puts me a little on edge.”

“I didn’t do it,”Nelson whimpers, looking imploringly up at Iris.

“Shh,”she says, soothing his forehead.Then, to Daniel,“No one was hurt.The only person hurt around here is Hampton.”

“Thanks to me.”

“Okay, ifthat’s how you want it.”

Hampton, walking now toward the porch, toward his family, bumps into Daniel, and Daniel, with a vivid surge oftemper, grabs the gun out ofHampton’s hand.He doesn’t know what he will do with it—he thinks again ofsimply heaving it—but he is certain that it must no longer be in Hampton’s possession, nor with any ofthem.He will take it to the river.

Or to the police.Yes, the police…

The police the police…He thinks it over and over, incorporating the unfamiliar idea into his little corner ofconsciousness.And then he turns and sees the police have indeed arrived—Derek Pabst and Jeff Crane.They enter Hampton and Iris’s backyard, exuding confidence and implacability with every long stride.Their service revolvers are still hol-stered.They hold their caps in their hands, like country folk calling on neighbors.

“Da da da da…”

Crane, boyish at forty, with neatly combed reddish hair and a prim, self-righteous mouth, sees that Daniel is holding a gun.Hampton and Iris stand together on the porch.

“You want to place that weapon on the ground, Dan,”Crane says.

Daniel does as he is told, immediately.

”We got a call about someone doing some shooting around here,”

Derek says.