Catch a Falling Knife

apparently the crowd wasn’t large enough yet to need the additional parking. But where were Mark and Donna. They should have been here by now. Had they stopped downstairs for another beer?
    I had a strong desire to move to where the air was cleaner. Sandra’s head popped up from the shadows between the cars and she looked around. She and Lefty came out of their hiding place and trotted toward me. I came out of mine so they could see me.
    “We’re going to find out where they are,” Lefty said as he ran by, laboring because of his size.
    “Stay here,” Sandra said as she passed me, running easily.
    They disappeared down the side of the building.
    I obeyed Sandra for a few seconds, thankful that the odor wasn’t so strong where I stood now. I didn’t want to return to the trashcans. Instead, I walked to my car. I thought it would be a good idea to move my car away from Donna’s, in case there was trouble. As I approached my car a vehicle came around the other side of the building. It was too late to hide; it headed toward my corner of the lot and nailed me with its headlights. I felt like a frightened deer.
    I scoffed at my alarm; this must be a patron of Club Cavalier. I got out my keys and started to unlock my car door, planning to get in, as if I were leaving. Act natural. Instead of parking in a lined space, the pickup truck—I had now identified it as such—pulled up behind my car and Donna’s car. Strange. I took another look; it was Eric Hoffman’s truck.
    Eric stuck his head out of the open driver’s-side window and yelled something at me, but I couldn’t hear what he said because of the noise of his engine. Then he shut off the engine and said, “Lillian, is that you? The whole damn world is here tonight.”
    I hadn’t heard him swear before. He opened his door while Mark and Donna piled out of the other side of the truck. Eric must have spotted them as they came out of the Club. That couldn’t be good. I stood with one hand on my door handle, waiting to see what was going to happen next.
    Mark saw me and came over, saying, “Lillian, what are you doing here?”
    Of all the things I could have said, I chose, “Sandra’s here. She wants to talk to you.”
    “I can’t right now. I…I’ll explain later. Right now I have to go with Donna.”
    I wanted to order Mark to get into my car where he would be safe, but Donna and Eric were listening. Mark started around the back of my car toward Donna’s car. Donna had opened her driver’s-side door and stuck her head into the car. Now she stood up and turned toward Mark.
    I saw the gun in her hand before Mark did. I yelled, “Mark, look out!”
    Donna fired several shots in quick succession as Mark started to duck. Mark fell behind my car. Donna moved forward, holding the gun awkwardly in both hands, planning to shoot him again. My car was between Donna and me. I couldn’t get to her; I could only watch in horror.
    Eric had one foot on the ground and was positioning his cane to help him swing his other leg out of the truck. From this awkward position he launched himself at Donna as she approached to finish off Mark. Eric’s body hit Donna, but his lunge didn’t have much force behind it so he grabbed her as he fell, pulling them both down on the asphalt. He grunted loudly as his body hit the ground.
    I finally became mobile and somehow made it around to the back of my car. All three bodies were in the space between the truck and the two cars. Blood was spreading on Mark’s shirt, but Donna was first priority. Being careful not to step on Mark, I picked up Eric’s cane, which he had dropped. Donna had rolled out of Eric’s grasp, into the back wheel of her car, and was struggling to get up. She hit her head on the frame of her car and collapsed. I saw the gun in her hand and remembered what she had said about Eric knocking the knife out of her hand with his cane.
    As Donna tried a second time to get up I hit her sharply on the wrist with the cane. The gun came loose and clattered to the blacktop. Using the cane like a hockey stick, I scooted the gun underneath Eric’s truck. Donna made it to her knees, a dazed expression on her face. I stood facing her, cane in hand, holding it like a dueling sword.
    She knelt on the ground, not looking at me. She reached into a pocket of her jeans. At first I thought she might have another gun, but then I realized her pocket wasn’t large enough to hold a gun. She pulled out a small plastic container