…”This is all your fault!” he screamed, years of pent up anger freely flowing to the surface as he brandished his father’s pistol like a child swinging at a pinata. “This would have never happened if it weren’t for you and your stupid pony! Why couldn’t you just leave well enough alone? Why?” Several boxes fell as he backed into the shelves. One box managed to send the display of carefully stacked soup cans crashing to the floor. Gardner didn’t even seem to notice, though. He just stood there, waving the gun with one hand, and rubbing his eyes with the other, sobbing uncontrollably all the while.
“No, Gardner, ” said Lisa, “don’t you remember? It was the little blue thing. You had to have seen it!”
Suddenly, he froze. The hand with the gun slowly dropped back down to his side, and the other hand moved to his chin. His eyes rolled toward the ceiling and he nodded.
“Oh yeah. Yeah, you’re right. I’m sorry.” He put the gun away, walked outside, and got back on the bus.
Lisa never saw him again (except at Kevin’s wedding).