A Shot Rang Out

Last night I heard two gunshots in my neighborhood.
   It wasn't a car backfiring, it wasn't pots and pans, it wasn't something falling from a tree. I'm from Texas and I know a gunshot when I hear it, and this was it. Two shots with half a second between them, a double-action pistol with the trigger squeezed quickly twice in a row, bam-bam! I have never, ever heard gunshots in my neighborhood before, I've heard car wrecks, sure, and fireworks, and I live across the street from an old folks' home, so ambulance sirens are a regrettable, though regular sound. But a gun discharging was brand new.
   So I called the cops and stayed away from windows on that side of my apartment. Within minutes I saw the flashing lights but heard nothing. About half an hour later I heard sirens coming from two directions, so I put on my shoes and grabbed my umbrella to go see what was happening.
   I stood in the rain watching as the EMTs unloaded the gurney from their ambulance and wheeled it into third building down from my own. They didn't look to be in a hurry, which is either very good, or very, very, very bad. As the thin rain continued to fall I remained on the front steps of my building, watching and waiting. I felt responsible, somehow, for what was happening inside, even though it had nothing to do with me. A few people walked by on the sidewalk, hurrying to get out of the rain, and I stayed in the same spot, peering through the drizzle and waiting and feeling guilty. And wondering where the police had gone.
   Then the door opened and the EMTs wheeled their gurney back out. Empty. Nobody on it. I felt a little sick to my stomach, expecting the worst. Then the door opened again and a fireman escorted a woman and a man out of the building. The woman climbed into the ambulance and they closed the door. The fireman put a reassuring hand on the man's shoulder and took his leave, and then the man got the same reassuring contact from another guy as he went back into the building.
   The fire truck and ambulance rolled down the street, lights off, turning right at the intersection, the way to the hospital. I stayed on the steps, staring at the third building down from my own, wondering what went on. What was the story? What just happened, and what was going to happen tomorrow?
   But I knew I wasn't going to get any answers, and even thinking the questions felt a little inappropriate. So I went inside, praying I wouldn't hear any more gunshots.