Because sitting on the bed are Ma and all of my aunts, their hands tied together, and standing behind them with a gun pointed at their heads is Maureen.
“Ah, Meddy,” she says, and swings her arms up so the gun is now pointing straight in my face. “Now we can properly begin.”
I guess someone can stop me from doing the right thing after all.
31
You see guns being pointed at people all the time on TV. It’s become so commonplace that I don’t blink whenever it happens on the screen. But in real life, oh man, in real life it’s very, very different. With the barrel of the gun staring down at me like a—well, there’s no comparison, it’s a fucking gun aimed straight at my face, how much more terrifying can it get? My legs turn to water, and as I take my first step, my knees wobble and I stumble forward.
The room explodes in a burst of “Don’t shoot!” “Aiya, no!” “No shoot!”
“Shh. Jesus, stop freaking out, please,” Maureen says to my aunties and mom.
“Sorry!” I cry, as I straighten up. “I just—I’m so scared. I can barely walk.” Come to think of it, I can barely breathe.
Maureen rolls her eyes. “I’m not going to shoot. Just go sit in that chair over there. God. You guys. Calm down.” She looks at her gun, as though remembering it’s there. “Right. Okay, look, I’ll point this elsewhere for now.” She lowers her arms so the gun’s pointed at my legs. I guess that’s a liiittle tiny bit better.
I practically crawl to the chair and sink into it gratefully. My entire body is basically a puddle. Now we know, when it comes to fight or flight, I am neither. I am: freeze like a hamster and then melt into a useless shivery puddle.
“Sayang, you are okay or not?” Ma calls out.
I manage a small nod and watch helplessly as Maureen stands and walks toward me. When she’s a few steps away, she says, “Don’t even think of jumping me.” It’s a laughable thought; my limbs are lead. Somehow, I manage to shake my head. Now she’s right in front of me, and my heartbeat is no longer a beat. It’s going too fast. It’s basically a buzz. Maureen swings the gun back, and my eyes squeeze shut instinctively. My family members draw a sharp intake of breath, and Ma cries, “Please no!” Oh god, here it comes.
But nothing comes.
I crack open one eye. Maureen sighs. “Dammit, I’ve been daydreaming of this moment for hours. I was going to pistol-whip the shit out of you.”
I cringe. Again, it’s something you see on TV, but now that I’m actually living it, the idea of being hit by a gun is sickening.
“But I don’t have it in me to do that.” Maureen sighs again.
A sigh of relief is just halfway out of my mouth when Maureen suddenly darts close and puts her face right up in front of mine, like a striking snake. Ma and the aunties cry out again. I jump back and smack the back of my head against the vanity mirror.
“Aiya! Don’t scare her!” one of the aunties snaps.
“Oh, shit! I’m sorry, I didn’t think you’d jump like that,” Maureen says. “Are you okay?”
Dizzy, I sit back down. I think I nod.
“I won’t do that again. That was kind of an asshole move on my part. I just wanted to scare you a bit; I didn’t think you’d react like that. Geez, girl.”
“You are so naughty ah!” Ma scolds. “You don’t scare her like that again!”
To my surprise, Maureen looks contrite. “Sorry, Auntie. I won’t do that again.” She straightens up and brushes her hair back. “Okay, let’s get one thing straight: I need you to do something for me.”
I manage to croak out a single: “What?”
“The tea ceremony gifts, dummy. What else did you think?”
I must have looked confused, because Maureen rolls her eyes again and says, “Get them. For me.”
“Oh, right. How?”
Maureen throws her hands up. “I don’t know, figure it out! Trick them, tell them you want to take photos of the gifts. Hold the bride at gunpoint—no, not the bride. Hold the groom at gunpoint.”
“I don’t have a gun.”
“Here.” She fishes in her back pocket and throws something at me. A gun. The thought Holy shit, it’s a gun being thrown at me barely has time to flash through my mind before it hits me smack in the chest.
I don’t even register the pain. I’m scrambling to—something—I don’t know, I’m half-convinced the thing’s going to go off and kill somebody, when it thuds to the floor. I squeak. My family cries out again. Maureen shakes her head at me. “Dude, your reflexes, seriously.”