A Little bit of Kindness

A LITTLE BIT OF KINDNESS

“It’s okay. It’s going to be okay, Belle.“ I stroked her hair, whispering into her ear. “But, you have to be quiet. Very, very quiet. Quiet like you’re dead!” I continued to stroke her head. “Shhhh, baby. Shhhh. I’m right here. I’ve got you.” I could feel her trembling beneath me. 

*****

One of the things that I love about being retired is being retired. I can go where I want, when I want. And today, my granddaughter Annabelle and I were going to the mall. We were having a girls’ day, Belle and I. She was turning twelve in a week, but her Pawpaw and I were going to be away on “another old folks road trip,” as Fiona, our daughter, called our camping adventures. So, I decided that Belle and I needed some quality time at the mecca of all things consumerism — the mall. After cleaning it with her mom, we were going to get Belle’s ears pierced, something Belle had been after her mother to do for months. Fiona wasn't sure she could trust me with the task.

“Please, Mom, for the love of God, only two holes — the normal ones, on her earlobes.”

This being said as she had eyed my multi-pierced ears, my eyebrow ring, and the delicate stud in my nose.

When I had told Belle the rules, she had just snorted and said, “That’s just because she’s a scaredy-cat, and is afraid of the needle. I’m not afraid. When I’m old enough, I want to have as many piercings as you!”

A girl after my own heart!

So, there we were, on the way to the mall.  

“Okay, here’s our agenda,” I said. Ears first, then hair cuts. Your mom says you can have highlights, but they have to be temporary.”

She eyed my red highlights.  

“I want them just like yours, but pink.”

“Done,” I said. “Then dinner — your choice. And then a movie, again, your choice.”

Belle was so excited. She never got to choose anything, being the youngest of three, her older twin brothers always drowning her out.  

“Ooohhh, can we go to the Cheesecake Factory? Can I have cheesecake? Can I have the Oreo Dream Extreme cheesecake? No, the Godiva Chocolate cheesecake?” She took a breath. “And can I order off the adults’ menu?”

I laughed. “Anything you want, sweetie. It’s your day.”

She clapped her hands.  

“And we can go see Barbie.” She paused, thinking. “No, can we see Guardians of the Galaxy? I know it’s 14A, but my friend Dino saw it and said it was really good. Plus, I’ve already seen one and two. Please, Gram.”

“It’s okay with me. But I have to check with your mom.”  

Belle rolled her eyes. She was surprising good at it for someone not yet twelve years old.

We were pulling into the parking lot of the mall. I circled a few times, looking for a good spot closest to the theatres, our last activity that day. I zipped into a primo spot, close to the front doors between a grey SUV and a black sedan, my old Subaru sliding in perfectly.

 I quickly pulled out my phone, and texted Fiona, my daughter, Belle’s mother.

Me: Guardians for the Galaxy ok?

Pause

Fiona: Let me check. I’ll get back to you in five.

“Your mom’s going to get back to me about Guardians. Let’s go in, and get this show on the road!”

We high-fived each other. I got out of the car and waited for Belle in front, then clicked the lock button. There was a man in the sedan next to us who looked up at the beep, so I said, “Hi there.”

Belle, almost exploding with excitement said, “It’s my birthday almost, and my Gram is taking me to get my ears pierced, and a haircut, and we’re going to the Cheesecake Factory, and we’re going to see Guardians of the Galaxy!”

I smiled at the man, “Maybe. If her mom says it’s okay.”  

I took Belle’s hand and said, “Have a nice day,” to the man, turned and headed for the air conditioned comfort of the mall.

The first thing we did was walk over to the theatre. Before we even reached that end of the mall, a text came through from Fiona.

Fiona: Fine. Just make sure you go to the 7:10 show, NOT the 9:30 show — TOO LATE!

I showed the text to Belle.

“Yay! ‘I am Groot!’” she mimed. “I love Groot!”

We walked to the theatre and bought our tickets, which I stowed carefully in my front pocket, along with my credit card.

“So,” I said, looking at my watch. “It’s a little after noon. Our hair appointment is at 1:30, and should take about two hours. I think it’s time to get a couple holes put in your ears!”

“Let’s go,” chirped Belle, almost pulling me along.  

The ear piercing place, “A Pierce of My Heart,” was in a kiosk in the middle of the mall. We were lucky, there was no one there, so the woman, who I assumed was the Head Ear Piercer ushered Belle and I right into the shop.

“I’m Franka,” she said. “And it looks like someone is going to get her ears pierced.”

Belle smiled widely. “That’s me. It’s my birthday soon, and Gram is getting my ears pierced. Mom said it was okay, but she’s too chicken, so Gram’s here.”

“Fantastic!” said Franka. “Would you like to pick out a pair of earrings?” she said, waving her hand at the rows of tiny, shiny studs behind her.  

“Ohhh! They’re beautiful!” said Belle, her eyes travelling over the different offerings. “There are so many! I don’t know which one to choose!”

“Well,” I said, reaching into my bag and bringing out a tiny black velvet box, “because your birthday is in July, and ruby is the gemstone of July, Pawpaw and I thought you would like this pair of studs with rubies in them. But we’re not going to be sad if you want another pair from the wall. It’s your choice.”

Belle looked at the earrings in the box. They were round blood red rubies in a white gold setting.

“They’re beautiful Gram. I love them!”  

She reached over an gave me a hug. I of course welled up. She was getting so big!

Franka picked up the piercing “gun” which looked more like a stapler, and showed it to Belle.

“This is what I’m going to use to pierce your ears.” She handed it to Belle. “I put your earrings from your grandma in there and squeeze. You’ll hear a pop, and then it’s done.”

Belle held the piercing machine, and looked to me, then at Franka. 

“Will it hurt?”

Franka smiled. “Just a little. Kinda like a mosquito bite. Right, Grandma?”

I nodded. “Yup. Easy-peasy, Mac and cheesey!” I smiled at Belle. 

Belle nodded to herself. “Let’s to this thing!” she said with a big smile.

She hopped up on the high stool that would allow Franka to see what she was doing without bending over. Franka went about cleaning Belle’s ears, sanitizing the earrings and loading them into the piercing machine.

Belle looked a bit trepidatious as Franka made two marks on her earlobes.

“This is where the holes will go. How’s that look?” she asked Belle.

“Gram? You’re the expert on piercings. Is it good?”

I looked and smiled. “Perfect! Good job Franka!”

Franka smiled and raised the piercing machine to Belle’s ear. But before she could make the hole, there was an enormous bang, Franka’s head snapped back, blood showering the wall behind her. She crashed into the display case behind her and slid to the floor, not moving.

“GUN!” I screamed, grabbing Belle and throwing her on the floor, then covering her with my body.

More shots, more screams.  

BANG! BANG! BANG!  

It seemed to go on forever.

“Gram!” yelled Belle. “What’s happening?!”

“It’s okay. It’s going to be okay. “ I stroked her hair, whispering into her ear. “But, you have to be quiet. Very, very quiet. Quiet like you’re dead!” I continued to stroke her head. “Shhhh, baby. Shhhh. I’m right here. I’ve got you.” I could feel her trembling beneath me.  

“I’m scared, Gram,” she whispered.

“Don’t be scared, baby. Gram’s got you. You’re going to be okay. I know you’re going to be okay.”

Then we lay very still, clutching each other’s hands.

I heard footsteps crunching through the broken glass, then more shots, and screams. The shooter was very, very close.

“Shhhh,” I whispered into Belle’s ear as quietly as I could. “Don’t move a muscle.”

The footsteps stopped right by my ear. The gunman dropped the empty clip by my head, and I heard him load another, then rack a bullet into the chamber.

I knew I was dead. I just prayed he would spare Belle. A bullet at this close range would more than likely pass through me, right into Belle. My heart was pounding in my ears. I squeezed Belle’s hand for the final time.

“Just take me,” I said, turning my head towards the boots at my ear. “Leave the girl.”

“You get to live.”

The footsteps receded, and the shooting and screaming began again.

*****

“Why do you think he let you live?” asked the detective. Her name was Terry Waits, and she was interviewing Belle outside the command post vehicle, in the parking lot. We were seated around a fold up table.

Belle and I had been found twenty minutes earlier, still hiding in the kiosk, with poor Franka. I had continued to shield Belle, not daring to move. We had heard the shoot-out with police, then a loud “ALL CLEAR. SUSPECT DOWN.”  

The police officer who found us escorted us away from the shop to the crime scene command centre in the parking lot.

*****

“Did you know the gunman?” Detective Waits asked.  

“No.” I said, then considered. “I don’t know. I didn’t see his face. He was behind us when … “ I looked at Belle. “… when it started.”

Belle was looking at her hands. “My Gram saved me,” she said quietly. “She told the man with the gun to take her and leave me.” Belle looked up at Detective Waits. “She’s the bravest person I know.”

I put my arm around Belle and squeezed her tight. I knew I wasn't brave. I had just reacted. 

“She covered me with her body,” Belle continued. “She saved me.”

Detective Waits looked at me. “We saw that on the CCTV. You are a brave woman, Mrs. Delrio.”

At that moment Fiona and Dave arrived, looking frantic. I had texted that we were okay, and where to find us. Fiona rushed forward, Dave at her heels.

“Oh my God! Annabelle! Mom! You’re both okay! I was so worried!” She grabbed up Belle and hugged her. “Oh, sweetie, I was so worried!” She turned to Detective Waits “Can we take them home?”

Detective Waits looked from me to Fiona. “I’d like to have Annabelle checked out by the paramedics before you leave. I still need to talk to your mom. We’ll make sure she gets home.”

Detective Waits gestured towards an EMT, who came forward and escorted Belle, Fiona, and Dave towards a waiting ambulance. I was worried about Belle — not about her physical self, but about her mental state.

As if reading my mind, Detective Waits spoke up. “They’re going to take her to the hospital for a complete check up. They have a child psychologist on stand by.”

I nodded.  

“Now, Mrs. Delrio, you are sure you didn’t know the gunman.”

“No. I’m sorry. I didn’t see his face.”

“Tell me exactly what happened just before the shooting began up until our officer found you.”

I recounted the story as best I could.  

“Franka?” I asked.

Detective Waits shook her head. Then she pulled out her phone, and tapped a few buttons before sliding it across the table to me.

“The shooter made this video before he entered the mall. It’s his manifesto, so to speak. There’s no reason for you to watch the entire thing, but this might be of interest to you.”

She reached over, and tapped the arrow, and the video started to play, mid-scene.

A scene showing the shooter’s face, with him talking. Now I was positive I didn’t know him.

“… because of the way that people treat me. I am not a nobody. Everybody will know my name ….”

I heard a beep in the background. The man in the video stopped looking at the phone, and glanced up and out the windshield at something out of sight of the camera. Then he pushed the button and the video changed from selfie to in front facing.

And there we were, Belle and I, entering the frame to the left. The shooter was the man from the car!

“Hi there,” I said on the screen, smiling. 

“It’s my birthday almost, and my Gram is taking me to get my ears pierced, and a haircut, and we’re going to the Cheesecake Factory, and we’re going to see Guardians of the Galaxy!”

I had smiled at the man, “Maybe. If her mom says it’s okay.” I took Belle’s hand and said, “Have a nice day.”

We walked in front of the car and disappeared from view. He switched the camera to face himself again.

“That little bit of kindness just saved their lives.”