Gun Powder

They gathered at the house almost three months after their father's death.  Nobody had expected the suicide, even though mother had been moved to a nursing home last year and he'd become more dour and silent than usual.  One Thursday morning he’d trudged down the steps to the basement, spread out a sheet of plastic in a last bit of housekeeping fervor, and shot himself in the head.  David had discovered the body during his daily visit.

The house sat empty since then, but Shay and Carol had flown in yesterday to help sort things out.  Every room was stuffed with furniture and rugs and lamps and beds, clothes and bric-a-brac and dozens of moving boxes that had never even been unpacked, a lifetime of objects.

The three middle-aged children gathered in the entryway. David shook his head and looked around.

“We've got to empty the whole place, guys. The idea is to get the house on the market by May and before that it's got to be cleaned and photographed. I don't want to rush you into anything but pretty soon we're going to need the money for Mom.  I think the best thing might be to get a dealer in here to buy all the contents."

Carol and Shay nodded in agreement. Shay looked around, her eyes shining.

“I'm going to want a few of Mom's things first, okay? I just don't know how I'm going to get the big stuff to Seattle.”

Carol looked thoughtful.

“How about getting a truck?”

“Too much money, It’s thousands of dollars.”

David sighed. “You know, Shay, that's not the most important thing here.”

Shay looked sharply at her brother

“It's important to me. If you don't want anything that fine, but I do.”

Carol interrupted. “Look, Shay. I don't mind paying for a trucking company. You can take anything you want. Mom would have loved you to have it.”

“Oh my god, thanks! That would be so great.”

David looked toward Carol and raised his eyebrows. “Nice going, kid. And what are you going to take, anything?”

“I thought maybe I'd pack up all the photos and personal papers and try to organize them once I get home. Then I can get copies made for the two of you.”

Shay walked over to the gun cabinet in the corner of the room. “Does anyone want dad's guns? I'd kind of like them for the kids.”

She opened the glass door and peered inside. “Where's the pistol?”

David looked at her and frowned

“You mean the gun he shot himself with? The police took it.”

“Yeah, that one. I'd like to take that one too.”

“For god’s sake, absolutely not. That's awful, Shay. It's disgusting to think of even touching that gun again. It had dad's blood all over it.”

Shay spun around to face her brother. “It's just a gun and it can be cleaned and I want it.”

Carol cleared her throat. “I really think we need to let that gun go, hon. I don’t want to be reminded of how dad died.”

“I want it and you don't have to see it. It has nothing to do with you.”

Shay walked over to the foyer and through the hall. “I'm going to start in the bedroom and put post-its on the things I’m going to take, okay? Oh, and does anyone have dibs on Mom's mink? Cause I'd like it.”

David grunted and moved to the kitchen,  opening one of the cabinets.

“That's fine. The only thing I want is the bureau that was in my room, you know, the one mom and I refinished.”

Carol smiled, coming over to help stack plates on the counter.

“Wow, I remember that. You guys worked so hard and it actually turned out great.”

“Yep, good memory.”

Shay tottered back into the living room with her arms full of clothing.

“Okay, where should I put this stuff?”

“Are those things you want, or for the thrift store?”

“I want them.”

David studied the mound of clothes and linens. “Let's get some big plastic bags and cartons and start a section in the garage for things you’re going to ship home.”

They all nodded.  Carol said, “I’ll go grab some supplies at the store, okay?”

Nobody spoke for several seconds.  Finally, David put his arm around Shay's shoulder.

“Actually, the gun is gone, Shay. I took it to a dealer I know and asked him to sell it and donate the proceeds to charity. Sorry, but I felt that was the right thing to do.”

Shay pulled away. “So stupid! It was a valuable piece.”

Carol sighed.

“It's really for the best, Shay.”

“Oh, forget it. What’s done is done.

She shrugged on her mother's mink coat and twirled.