SCHIZOPHRENIC

It was the last gun report that woke detective John Simmons from his cozy bed beside his wife of eleven years. He sat up immediately, took a look at his wife who had also woken up at the sound. Even though the sound came from a far distance away, there was trepidation in her voice when she said with urgency.

'The kids...check on the kids'.

It had not occurred to him to do so. But at his wife's prompting he stood unsteadily up, shook off the fragments of sleep from his eyes. He entered the corridor, took a few steps, turned left and he was at his son's room. He turned on the light then lowered himself. His son was sleeping away from the blankets meant to cover him. His legs and hands spread wide in an usual pose. Perhaps, he was dreaming about one of the characters in his comic book. His eyes wandered to the wallpapers his son had designed his room with. They are  characters from the Marvel comic book. He smiled, covered him up, turned the light off and then closed the door quietly. He walked a few steps, stopped opposite the staircase leading down to the sitting room. His twin daughters were fast asleep and neatly tucked in as he had left them the night before.

When he got back to the bedroom, he met his wife at the door with his cellphone.

'The kids are fine'.

He collected it from her.

'It is the sheriff'.

She leaned close while her husband listened to the speaker. The voice at the other end was raspy and had in it so much urgency that John could hardly make out the first few words.

'Hey kid. Sorry.. to... disturb... your sleep. Someone... just called. There... has... been... a shooting'.  

'I heard it too

'Really!

'Yeah few minutes ago.

'Okay then. Meet me at Tuskee in ten minutes'.   

Since the caller was traced to Tuskee county, It was important John was alerted because the gunshots was heard in his part of town. Tuskee is the smallest and the quietest town in the entire Friskhood. It was even said humorously that strange people who minded their business lived there and that accounts for the grave silence it is encapsuled in. 

Sheriff Hudson have a funny way of calling his officers kids as he saw fit. He regarded himself as a father rather than as the Sheriff of Tuskee County in his second year in office.

He stood at his door way in his full uniform while his wife adjusted his tie and dusted nothing from his blue police uniform. She stared at him with a rising but concealed fear as she always does whenever he was going  to work or when there is an emergency. He drew her close to himself as if to allay her fears, allowing her fluffy hair brush on his face before bending to seek her lips for a goodbye kiss.

It was three 5:30am when he got to Tuskee. He was too minutes late but  Sheriff Hudson had not come. He went to shake hands with the patrol van unit who had arrived before him to register his presence. The house where the gunshots was fired was a few distance from where their vehicles were packed.  Officers at gun ready crouched behind  the door of their opened vehicles. Others held their walkie talkie and spoke and likewise listened to instructions from the other end. Their orders were to maintain their positions until the sheriff was on ground.

Sheriff Hudson came later in a van with two other officers who stood on either side of him as they disembarked from the vehicle. He nodded his thanks at the officers who were taking positions.  At his orders, two officers scurried in swift noiseless movement to either side of the entrance to the door of the house. It was a one story brick building lined with a lush patch of grass,  a rectangular row of flowers stopping inches apart for the footpath leading to the entrance.

'We know you are in there, Mr. Gregory and you are already surrounded. We want to make this easy  for both of us. Kindly come out with your hands raised high to where we can see it'.

It took up to five minutes after Hudson's voice echoed into the quiet morning from the public address that there was a crackling sound at the door, then it slowly opened and a man standing behind with hands raised up walked out quietly.

He is tall and lightly bent with curly grey hairs. He wore a suit as though he was preparing for an outing. They quickly swooped down on him immediately. Handcuffed and led away to the waiting van.

When the medical team got into the house, they found nine dead bodies. The older ones had gun wounds while the children were strangled.

'Tell me why you killed your entire family?'

Gregory was seated facing his interrogator in a well lit room. He sat like a sane man innocent of any crimes whatsoever.

'God told me to do it', he said after a long pause.

The interrogator was repulsed by his response. It sounded almost like the Devil saying God told him to bring disaster to the world.

'Did you see him or you just heard a voice?'

'It was a strong urgent voice'.

'And you think it was God speaking to you. And you didn't feel it was wrong to do so?'

'No! Never! They were suffering. I needed to help them...'

'By killing them?'

'Yes'.

'What were they suffering from?'

There was a longer pause. His lips  curled up in a thoughtful manner. Then he burst into fits of rage. Speaking rapidly as though the words were burning his tongue.

'You damn know that the world is wicked. Government cheating the people... Fake people all around. The world is wicked!'

'Were you or any of your children or their kids suffering from any illness, sickness or...

' We are just fine. No one is sick. No illness, no disease. Nothing!'

'So they needed to die to be safe from the

Government, fake people....'

He nodded excitedly before saying:

'Now you are speaking my mind. The government is our enemy. I needed to take my family away before they come for them'.

'Have you always had the gun with you before now?'

'No, God told me to get it.

'And you bought it?'

'Sure'.

'Did you tell them at the gun shop you wanted the gun to kill your family members? 

'No'

'Why?'

'They will freak out! 

'And call the cops on you'.

Silence

'Did you have a license to purchase a gun'

Silence

'Talk to me Mr. Gregory. I am trying to help you'.

He laughed hysterically, throwing his head back in the process. His eyes are now misty from laughing hard.

'You can't help me, he yelled with his face contouring into vicious frown.

It was half past six in the evening when he got home. His wife had buzzed his cellphone almost a million times. The combined voices of his twin daughters welcomed with an embrace that brought some relief to him. His wife too left the kitchen and threw all her weight on him in an embrace as though a powerful force could make him disappear forever.

'You didn't pick your calls'.

'We were busy honey'.

'Daddy... daddy, one of his twin daughters said too loudly, We saw you on TV! They other added her voice too. His wife left to attend to the dinner she was preparing.

 What is skizofenza'.

'Skizofen...what?'

'Schizophrenia', Josh, his son who had just bounded down from the staircase corrected.

' Oh...that...where did you hear it from?

'They said it in the news.

'Well...its a mental condition that makes people hear and see things.

'Was it what the cops arrested him for?', the first of the twins asked.

He wanted to ask what man but quickly remembered Gregory who had been taken to psychiatric hospital.

'Yes...I mean no. He did something much worse. 

'He killed his own family', Josh added looking from his dad to the twins

'Why', the twins lamented in horror.

'He has a mental problem',said Josh stiffly

'Schizophrenia,' the twin chorused together.

Before the twins could ambush their dad any further for more questions, his wife came to rescue him, announcing that dinner was ready. After dinner, and when the children had retired to bed, it was her turn to get all the details about the shooting.

 'Why would someone sell firearm to a crazy man for Gods sake?.

'I guess they didn't know'

'Don't they do background checks anymore'.

'Well, they do but you know there are loopholes'.

'Loopholes for dangerous men like Gregory to exploit and kill people like chickens' 

He yawned lazily, a signal that sleep will soon gain mastery of him.

'What was his story anyways. Wasn't there a sign that he wasn't well?'

'Our findings showed that he began to degenerate...em... when he lost his job. He couldn't  hold down a job for a month before he misbehaves and then he is fired...

 'Didn't anyone noticed?'

'No one knew for sure except his former co-workers'.

'And they did nothing to help him?'

'A man like that would  not accept he needs help'.

'And his family?'

'Perhaps they knew but kept quiet because his temper was erratic'.

'And it ended in their death. Poor things'.

He yawned again and wanted to put off the bed lamp but she wasn't through yet.

'I think the Firearm law should be reviewed'.

'You think that will happen anytime soon?'

'Why....'

'Every American wants to protect himself.'

'Isn't that why we have cops like you?'

'Well...Babe, I better go to sleep now. Let's leave the rest for tomorrow'.

He kissed her forehead, put off the bed lamp and curled up like a baby under the blankets.

In the darkness that engulfed the room, she remembered another question she wanted to ask.

'And what will happen to Gregory?'

'What?'

'Gregory...what will happen to him?'

'He is at the...facility...for the mentally disturbed'.

'And...'

'Jail...'