Forget to Remember

sounded. She felt a burning sensation in her arm as she ran back toward the garage. She had been shot. A second shot went wild. The garage door was still open. Carol had the car remote in her hand. She clicked it to unlock the driver’s door as she approached, then opened the door, reached inside, and ripped the garage remote from the visor in a single motion.
    She slammed the door shut and dove over the front of the car in her haste to get out of the line of fire. She slid down the slope of the hood and hit the concrete floor hard, rolling on her shoulder, managing to keep hold of both remotes. She clicked the garage remote, and the door started rumbling downward. Then it stopped and headed back up. The person who had shot at her had tripped the laser beam that kept the door from coming down on someone. He was in the garage.
    She frantically pressed the button again. The door started down. She looked under the car and could see the man’s feet by the light that automatically turned on when the door opener was activated. He had stopped near the entrance, probably scanning the interior of the garage, wondering where she was. Ernie’s car was also in the garage, so there were multiple places to hide.
    Carol found the panic button on the car remote by feel and pressed it. A loud beeping started. Rigo’s car was parked in the driveway; he was home. Hopefully, the horn would get his attention and bring him out here. The man broke the laser beam again with his foot, and the garage door headed up. He was afraid of getting trapped inside.
    He quickly went to the window of Tina’s car and looked in. Carol was glad she hadn’t obeyed her first impulse to get into the car. She simultaneously pressed the garage remote again and skittered around to the other side of the car, staying opposite him. The deafening beeping drowned out her movements, but she heard somebody yell from the yard, between beeps. It must be Rigo.
    If the man continued around the front of the car she was prepared to race out of the garage. She could stop the door’s descent since she controlled the remote. Just as she was considering doing this, the man’s feet headed back toward the entrance as the door descended. He dove under the door and disappeared. The door started up again. Carol, who was moving back toward the front of the car, clicked the remote and watched with trepidation for his return as the door came down one more time.
    Just before it closed, she saw someone else’s feet run past the garage. Rigo was chasing him . A new fear assailed her. The man would shoot Rigo. She pressed the remote to open the garage door. She had to help him.
    ***
    Rigo was home from the restaurant and drinking a glass of milk while he waited for Carol to return from her dinner. He felt like an anxious father waiting for his daughter to come home from a date. He shouldn’t feel like this; she was an adult. He had a hard time admitting to himself there might be a twinge of jealousy involved.
    His first clue Carol had arrived was the sound of the garage door opening. He could hear it because a kitchen window was ajar. The nights were still balmy. He had a desire to meet her at the front door but repressed it. Instead, he put his feet up on a chair at the breakfast table and tried to look casual. She would see the light in the kitchen and come find him.
    He was in this position when he heard a shot from the front of the house. He wasn’t quite sure it was a shot, but after a brief hesitation, he jerked his feet off the chair and stood up. While he was doing that, he heard a second shot. Now there was no question what it was. Someone was shooting at Carol. Rigo raced through the house to the front door and opened it.
    Here he hesitated, not wanting to run into the line of fire. The garage door was going down. The panic horn on Tina’s car started beeping. Carol must have triggered it. He felt momentary relief she was able to do that. A man appeared in the garage doorway and tripped the laser beam, causing the door to head upward. He went back inside. The door immediately started down again.
    Rigo followed, but he’d be a sitting duck if he went under the door and entered the garage, silhouetted by the outside lights. He yelled “We’re going in” at the top of his voice, hoping to distract the gunman, and then moved sideways toward the bushes fronting the house so he wouldn’t be a clear target.
    The man dove under the door, out of the garage, and ran along