GoPro had his sights on Hefty’s Mom. The poor woman was sitting alone in her kitchen, right next to the large glass double doors. She had the venetian blinds down, closed only a little. It was enough for GoPro to see her perfectly. Despite GoPro wanting to get creative, his orders were clear. Make a bang, and let the neighbors know that trouble was around. Fear was the great ISIS weapon. Big fear brought the FBI. Small fear tore into people’s hearts like tiny bullets.

Hefty was on her mind. It had been almost a year since he vanished. She had already dealt with the police, the FBI, the coast guard, the coroners. Everyone she could find. She wanted to hire a PI but wasn’t sure she could afford her Blincyto if she did that. She always believed he was somewhere out in the world, making a name for himself.

She hoped he was finally free of all the bullshit she put him through. He had just up and left, in her mind. She wasn’t trying to pester him, she thought. She just wanted to let him know how much she loved him. She just wanted to know that she didn’t mean to ruin his life. She didn’t mean to get so damn sick. It was her fault, she decided, that his life had become hard. It wasn’t fair that she cooked him 8 lbs. of ground beef every dinner. Always using the big pots to cook with. Making him as big as her. She never encouraged him to exercise, whatever that was. She just wanted her son.

She was petrified that he might be lurking around, watching her. She was dying, and she didn’t have much time left. With her last moments, she just wanted to cook for him. She wished she’d had the strength to do that. She wished that she had the strength to stand longer than two minutes. Most of all, she wished she could give him his life back. That she could make sure that his school years were full of fun. That she could… that she could make it different.

GoPro was lurking.

He didn’t see this woman. He saw 150 Bitcoin. That’s what she was to him.

He thought about oiling the Magnum the night before, but it would be more rickety sounding if he didn’t clean it. It was his father’s Magnum. A fine weapon. Using it was GoPro’s legacy. It meant a lot to him. The metal was cold on that New Year’s Morning. It was harsh. It was going to get loud.

Hefty’s mom was holding the phone. Would she actually call Hefty’s father? Yes, it was Hefty’s father from now on. She needed to call him that because she needed to know that Hefty still existed in her life. She’d dialed

2-1-6.

What would she say to him, this ghost she’d forgotten? She’d spoken only once to Hefty’s father since he “went out for some milk” and didn’t return.

She dialed the

6-4-7 and started to cry.

She remembered taking little Hefty to Arizona. She was a full 60 pounds lighter back then. Hefty’s father still loved her then, and they were lovers and parents. They made love every night after Hefty went to sleep in the other room. After their embrace, they hugged each other. “I’m sorry I sweat so much,” she would say to him, and he would reply with laughter and kisses. She would smile and feel good about herself. She’d forget the mocking girls in high school, and her Mamo. In his arms, Hefty’s mom felt safe… but then they got divorced. Mamo was right, no man can love a fat woman.

GoPro wanted to shoot her through her head scarf. It irritated him. It was some homosexual color or something, flowery stuff old women wear, after they started sagging all over. Why would they keep dressing like they had something to prove? Like they could attract a man. Pathetic. Pathetic! They belonged hidden away, he thought.

He would blow that scarf into her skull. That would teach her… that would teach her to cover herself proper. He raised the barrel. He could hear in his earpiece. The plane was coming in. It was almost time.

She dialed the

3-6-4…

and she wanted to click the final number. She just…

What would she tell him? “Hello? Is Hefty with you? I lost our son; can you help me find him? Can you please, please come back to me? I’ve missed you every day since “the milk”? No other man will love me because: leukemia?

I’m scared? Lonely? Our son left and if he doesn’t return then I truly am alone in this world? I can cook?” I can’t even cook anymore, she thought. I can’t even be a housewife. Useless. Can’t someone just kill me?

Twilight twinkled. GoPro’s black armor was visible.

He fingered the trigger, steadying his shot. He smiled. He showed his black teeth and closed his right eye. Follow the orders: Right after the plane hits, kill the woman anyway.

The window exploded, and his forehead flapped over his left eye. He heard a shriek come from the kitchen. Hefty’s mom jumped up, her loose head scarf revealing her Darth Vader scalp. GoPro fell to his knees, unable to control his body. All he heard was screaming, screaming, and footsteps over him and then a voice saying, “FBI, are you hurt, Ma’am?”