The Leftovers

falling with each ragged breath. The barrel of the gun was only an inch or so from her temple.
    “Just a second,” Laurie said. “My hand’s shaking.”
    “It’s all right,” Meg reminded her. “You’re doing me a favor.”
    Laurie took a deep calming breath. You can do this . She was prepared. She’d learned how to shoot the gun and had faithfully performed the visualization exercises included in the instructional memo.
    Squeeze the trigger. Imagine a flash of golden light transporting the martyr directly to heaven.
    “I don’t know why I’m so nervous,” she said. “I took a double dose of the Ativan.”
    “Don’t think about it,” Meg reminded her. “Just do it and walk away.”
    That was Laurie’s mantra for the evening, her task in a nutshell: Do it and walk away. A car would be waiting at the corner of Elm and Lakewood. She didn’t know where they were taking her, only that it would be far from Mapleton and very peaceful there.
    “I’m gonna count down from ten,” Meg told her. “Don’t let me get to one.”
    The pistol was small and silver, with a black plastic grip. It wasn’t that heavy, but it took all of Laurie’s strength to hold it steady.
    “Ten … nine…”
    She glanced over her shoulder, making sure the schoolyard was empty. When they’d arrived a couple of adolescent girls were gossiping on the swings, but Laurie and Meg had stared at them until they left.
    “Eight … seven…”
    Meg’s eyes were closed, her face tense with anticipation.
    “Six…”
    Laurie told her finger to move, but her finger wouldn’t obey.
    “Five…”
    She’d gone to all that trouble to tear herself away from her family and friends, to withdraw from the world, to move beyond earthly comfort and human attachments. She’d left her husband, abandoned her daughter, shut her mouth, surrendered herself to God and the G.R.
    “Four…”
    It was hard, but she’d done it. It was as if she’d reached up with her own hand and plucked out one of her eyes, no anesthetic, no regret.
    “Three…”
    She’d made herself into a different person, tougher and more submissive at the same time. A servant without desire, with nothing to lose, ready to obey God’s will, to come when called.
    “Two…”
    But then Meg had shown up, and they’d spent all that time together, and now she was right back where she’d started—weak and sentimental, full of doubt and longing.
    “One…”
    Meg clenched her teeth, preparing for the inevitable. After a few seconds went by, she opened her eyes. Laurie saw a flicker of relief in her face, and then a flood of annoyance.
    “Goddammit,” she snapped.
    “I’m sorry.” Laurie lowered the gun. “I can’t do it.”
    “You have to. You promised.”
    “But you’re my friend.”
    “I know.” Meg’s voice was softer now. “That’s why I need you to help me. So I won’t have to do it myself.”
    “You don’t have to do it at all.”
    “Laurie,” Meg groaned. “Why are you making this so hard?”
    “Because I’m weak,” Laurie admitted. “I don’t want to lose you.”
    Meg held out her hand.
    “Give me the gun.”
    She spoke with such calm authority, such utter faith in the mission, that Laurie felt a kind of awe, and even a certain amount of pride. It was hard to believe that this was the frightened young woman who’d cried herself to sleep her first night in Blue House, the Trainee who couldn’t breathe in the supermarket.
    “I love you,” Laurie whispered as she handed over the pistol.
    “I love you, too,” Meg said, but there was an odd flatness in her voice, as if her soul had already left her body, as if it hadn’t bothered to wait for the deafening explosion a moment later, and that imaginary flash of golden light.
    *   *   *
    NORA KNEW it was ridiculous, walking all the way across town to deliver a letter she could just as easily have dropped into a mailbox, but it was a beautiful evening, and she didn’t have anything else to do. At least this way she’d know for sure that the letter hadn’t gotten lost or delayed by the Post Office. She could just cross it off her list and move on to the next task. That was the real point of this exercise—to do something, to stop procrastinating and take a small concrete step in the right direction.
    Leaving town and starting a new life was turning out to be a bigger challenge than she’d expected. She’d had that manic burst of energy last week—that exhilarating vision of her