Roger awoke unsure what time it was. The five year old lay on top of his bed covers wearing jeans and a T-shirt. Daylight leaked from the bedroom window's drawn shade. After putting on his shoes he opened the bedroom door and peered into the living room. The long couch facing him along the opposite wall was unoccupied. So was a chair to his left. The boxy television which sat on a wheeled rack to the right of the door facing the couch was turned on with the sound set low.
"Hello?" Roger said while still standing in his doorway. He stepped into the living room and walked to his right toward the kitchen. He passed the open door to the empty bathroom then stepped through the kitchen doorway and confirmed that room was empty also. The back door of the house was closed. The rotating disk on its gold knob was turned with its ridge aligned up and down which meant it was locked.
A piece of paper weighted down with an Oreo cookie sat in the middle of the kitchen table. It was a note to him from his mom written in print style. Roger couldn't read when his mom used her other squiggly writing.
I left with Sue to find your dad and Joe. Stay in the house. I'll be back soon. Love, Mom
Joe was a friend with whom Dad spent a lot of time out drinking. Sue was Joe's wife. Mom doesn't drive, so Sue must have picked up Mom to go with her.
Roger stuffed the cookie into his mouth and left the note on the table. He walked back through the living room, steered past the coffee table and into the vestibule by the front door. A wooden toy chest with hinged bench seat was on the right side of the small room. Roger stood on the seat to get high enough to look out through the single square window of the closed front door. Outside he saw bright evening sunlight beyond the house across the street. The sun clock in the living room had said six o'clock.
Roger unlocked the inside door, pushed open the aluminum screen door and walked onto the gray-painted, wood-floored front porch. A sided, white house wall was on the left and a wooden rail guarded the open space on the right. He walked forward to the end of the porch and sat with his feet on the front steps. Quietly Roger ate his Oreo and looked out on the street.
After a few minutes a car that was driving by slowed. The driver looked at Roger. It was a police officer in a marked city cruiser. A second uniformed officer sat on the opposite side of the front seat. The squad stopped and Roger looked behind him at the front door of the house for any sign of a parent. Nothing. He looked forward again as the driver shifted the steering column lever into park.
"Hey, kid," hollered the officer. "Is your mom home?"
"No," answered Roger. "Is your dad home?" "No."
"Is anybody home?" "No."
The driver looked at his partner then back at Roger. "Then we'll have to shoot ya."
"No!"
Roger stood up. Both officers opened their doors and stepped out of the car. The driver drew his sidearm and aimed it at the boy. Roger ran across the front yard toward the gravel alley next to the house. He made only three strides when the gun fired with a loud bang. Roger felt a sharp pain in the center of his body just before he collapsed onto the grass and everything went black.
An orange western sky provided the light for Roger's parents. They stood in the front yard next to the body of their boy. Dad covered Roger with a blanket and Mom laid a bouquet of yellow flowers on top.
"I told him to stay in the house," she said with tears in her eyes. Dad put his arm around Mom and guided her up the porch steps and into the house.