Death Around the Corner

Here's another story from my past, along a similar line as my story of my memories of 2002. Like that story, its not something that I normally go around telling people about, but its in there...

Twelve years ago today was when it happened. It was a Friday, and I was looking forward to the weekend, as well as a leisurely work day. I rolled into work probably 10 minutes or so before starting time. They were running an early shift for production starting at 5 AM, so the machines were already up and running. I sat down at the table in the break area to wait until the starting bell rang. I slid back in my chair, and relaxed until it was time to start.

Unlike where I'm working now, this place has relatively few employees, and I was good friends with several of them. Scott and Shelley I had first met when Shelley was pregnant with their son when I started working there in 1998. They weren't married, but might as well have been. Common law married. I had been to many of their son's birthdays and barbecues at their residences. They ended up living in a hotel for a while for standing up to a slum lord apartment manager. Scott was a Viet Nam veteran who had joined up to be in the airborne division, jumping out of planes. Unfortunately, he never got to do that, just as he got out of boot camp we began pulling out, and he was on that detail instead. I could go on about some of the antics we had gotten into, and perhaps at some point I will.

They got out of the hotel and were renting a nice house when Shelley's aids infected brother and his lover lost their place and ended up moving in with them. Their place was nice for a single family with one or two children, but it got crowded with them along. There was some tension brought on by that situation, and Shelley kicked Scott's ass out. He ended up moving in with his father, another good friend of mine who also worked with us. Scott often had lunch with a small group of four of five of us, and always had colorful observations or stories to share. The topic that was most often discussed that week was how he was going to begin courting Shelley anew, starting that evening when he had plans to take her out for a nice dinner. He had gotten his hair cut, much shorter than usual, and it looked a little strange seeing him like that.

Scott came in with his dad that morning, and went to his area and sat back in his chair and pulled his hat down over his eyes to rest a bit until the bell rang. Shelley had some errand that she was off doing that morning, so she wasn't there. Sal, another of the workers there showed up. I wasn't as close with him, even though we did partake in some of our filthy habits together on occasion, along with another of my friends, Pokes. Sal was a wannabe gangsta, always with a bandana pulled low on his forehead. He got there just a couple of minutes before the bell rang.

I was still reclined at the table, and was half dozing when I heard a sharp bang, sounded like someone had flat-dropped a pallet, and that's what I thought it was. I was startled awake by the racket and shot a nasty look towards the production area, then turned back to the table and was starting to relax again. Just then I heard Sal begin to shout to call 911, Scott had been shot. I ran into the office and called, not knowing any details. Unlike the time I ended up calling them in 2002, they picked up fairly quickly, and I told them to send out the paramedics, someone has been shot. Naturally, they began asking all kinds of questions that I didn't know the answers to. Who shot him? On such short notice the only thing I could think was that he must have been despondent about how things were going with Shelley and had shot himself, so I told them that I thought it was self inflicted. The operator couldn't understand what I was trying to tell her, so I told her I thought it was a suicide. The owner was in there, and her son had put a .357 to his head just a few years before, and when she heard me say that, she groaned "oh no!!!" Next question, where is the gun??? I don't know!!! How is he doing??? Is he conscious??? I don't know!!! Hold on, its out in the plant, let me run out there and take a look. I got out there, and the plant manager is there with him. Scott's eyes are wide open and unblinking. I can't see any blood or bullet hole or anything. I asked him how he is doing. He said not good, he had closed his eyes, but he opened them back up. No pulse, no breathing. I ran back to the office and told the 911 operator. Just then the paramedics rolled in. They removed his shirt and administered CPR. The police showed up just after the paramedics, and the next thing I know they have Sal in the back of one of the cars. He kept miming to us for a cigarette, but no one gave him one. I had no idea why they had him in there. The paramedics rolled him out on a gurney, and I asked one of them how he was. He answered, "he's going to be OK, but he's going to be sore"

Turns out he wasn't. The little .22 had gotten him right in the heart, and he had died almost instantly, probably without even knowing what had happened. Shelley showed up a bit later and naturally was sobbing uncontrollably when they told her what had happened. Apparently Sal had brought in a cheap little saturday night special in his jacket pocket, and when he took it off and laid it down to get ready to work, it had gone off. I don't think he was ever charged with anything. He never came back to work at the shop, tho. Probably a good thing, I have a feeling he wouldn't have been very welcome.

No more work was done that day. Everybody left early. When my wife got home from work and asked me why I was home so early, I poured out the whole story to her. At the end of my telling, she said to me "well, I'm glad you're OK", to which I replied, "I'm not."