Don't Shoot the Messenger

16 - the gun

* edited 

Claire's POV 

Alissandru was at his laptop in the basement this morning reviewing e-mails. I was looking over his Mother's canned goods. They filled shelves over an entire wall several jars deep. Pickled peppers and green beans filled some jars. The one in my hand held citrus with bits of ...something... packed between the slices. I tilted it and a bubble of air slid up the corner curve of the canning jar, the syrup oozing. Some of the other jars held contents only decipherable by the mystic script of Italian on the label. She asked me to pick a vegetable for tonight, and I was taking my time exploring what was here.

"Get behind me." Alissandru ordered. I hear light footsteps on the stairs. I set down the jar and turn to see Edmondo coming out of the stairwell. In his hand was a gun. As he raised it, I took a few steps between them. "Get out of the way." Edmondo told me, and I shake my head. "Move!" Alissandru ordered fiercely. Would he shoot Edmondo if I got out of the way? Edmondo wouldn't hurt me. He had already warned me away and I knew he sort of liked me, more than anyone else here. Alissandru was the killer of their parents and his Mom was the mother of their monster. I glanced back; Alissandru was on his feet. It looked as if he wanted to come out from behind the desk and throw me out of the way, but didn't quite dare make  sudden movements.

"You don't want to do this," I told him "I have to." "And disappoint your parents? Your Father could be a hard man, but he was also a practical man, wasn't he? He wouldn't want you to die for nothing."    "It isn't nothing! He killed our parents." 

"Mr. Macello always has contingency plans, backup plans. He planned for the possibility of his murder by you or anyone else before you even saw him. ...Who do you think would get custody of you if he dies?"  He looks uncertain "...my Aunt?" ..."Should the three of you die, one of their own children would claim your inheritance. How long do you expect to survive there?"  His eyes widen, and his hand shakes. "If your Aunt is too sentimental, others will not be. How would you feel if you made a mistake that cost the lives of your brother and sister?"  He was wavering...

I continue slowly "An American President once said that the best way to defeat an enemy was to make him your friend. Doing so adds the strength of your former enemy to your own. You want to make your Father proud by doing something hard, don't you?"  He nods, breathing hard. "He saw so much weakened and destroyed by your Grandfather's war. What do you think would please him more now? He could see you rebuild and strengthen what is left of your family or see the last of your family destroyed."

I wait, giving him time to think about it. "Mr. Macello could be a source of strength and advice for most of your life. If he wanted to harm you, your bodies would have been buried with your parents."

"Do you think that Mr. Macello would forgive you -this once- if you swear never to do anything like this again?" ..... A tear slid down his face as he shook his head. I licked dry lips and hesitated to move closer. Edmondo looked past me "Please don't hurt my brother." I had begun to relax as he spoke -too soon. The barrel of the gun began to turn toward himself as I lunged forward and grabbed at it. The loud sound rang through the room. I forced the weapon from his hands.  I wrapped my free arm around him as I set the safety and flung it behind me, then both of them as he broke down sobbing.

Alissandru's Madre ran downstairs weapon in hand, but he dismissed her with a gesture. She hesitated but left, her gun vanishing. Alissandru comes closer, and runs his fingers through the boys fine hair. He sighs.