Gettingshotdidnotendmylife.It
didn’tevenupendit,really.Theone
timeI cried,I wassittingina tufted
chairinmyparents’bedroomwhile
thelocalFoxaffiliatewason.“The
victim,”thenewsannouncersaid,
“isstillrattledbutathomeanddo-
ingfine,wecanexclusivelyreport.”
It wasdisembodying,listeningtothis
personI hadneverspokenwithspeak
aboutme.Wecanexclusivelyreport.
EachtimeI replayedthatnightin
mymind,adifferentimage would
surface.Myfour-
year-oldsister,in
thedrivewaywhen
I pulledin.WhenI
gotout,she saw
thedeep-redside
ofmydress, the
bloodstainlikea
Rorschach pat-
tern.Shepointed
atitandcalmlysaid,“Yougotshoot
onyourdress.”Atthehospital,a
nurseattheemergencyroomdesk
lookedupfromherphoneandsaid,
expressionless,“We’vegota gunshot
wou nd .”
Thesewerenotthedetails the
policewantedmetoremember.Like
detectivesona TVshow,theyasked
metoclosemyeyesandrelivethe
drive.Thewaytheairsmelled,the
soundoftheothercars.ButI could
notconjurethemissingfactthat
wouldgivemeaningtoalltheoth-
ers.(Abeercanclatteringacrossthe
street– forsomereason, they seemed
tothinkI mighthaveheardabeer
canclatteringacrossthestreet.)
I travelledthenextweektoFrance
fora writingclass.Thebulletdidnot- doesnot– setoffmetaldetectors,
butI carriedaletteraboutitfrom
thesheriff,justincase.Intheau-
tumn,I wentbacktouniversityin
NewEngland,wherethestoryofthe
leadinsidemyarmwasjustthat:a
story.Butliketheugliestwhitenoise,
it wasalwaystherewithme,defiant
and relentless.Afterlatenightsat
thelibrary,I’dcall
thecampuspolice,
waryofthethree
trafficlightsI had
topassonmyway
home.I’daskthe
womanwhousu-
allyworkedatthat
hourtostayonthe
linewithmewhile
I walked.
Sometimesafriend wouldask
whethermyfeelingsongunrights
hadchanged.I usuallysaid,“Idon’t
know,”andthatwastrue.Knee-jerk
callsforguncontroldidn’tresonate
withme.Yetareverencetowards
gunsnolongerfeltrighteither.
I foundmyambivalenceunsettling.
Everyoneelseseemedsosureabout
howtofeelaboutguns–peopleon
campus,ontheinternet,backhome.
Unlikemostofthem,I hadhadan
intimateacquaintancewithgunvi -
olence.I shouldhavehadsomespe-
cial insight. If what had happened to
I hated
what had
happenedto me.
I wanted to hate
guns, too38 March 2020
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