There’s No Excusing Such Stupidity, No Bringing Xavier Back

He’s out there somewhere--not a dangerous predator, but a criminal nonetheless.

If he won’t turn himself in (don’t hold your breath), someone needs to do it for him. He may well not have had malicious intent when he pulled the trigger on the Fourth of July, but even if that’s true, what’s the punishment for criminal stupidity?

I’m posing the question on Thursday afternoon, about the same time as they’re burying 9-year-old Xavier Morales in Cypress. Whoever is responsible for the boy’s death remains at large. We can only hope his conscience haunts him.

Young Xavier went to Boisseranc Park in Buena Park to watch fireworks on Independence Day. Police say a bullet struck him on his right side, puncturing a lung and severing the aorta. He died the next day in a hospital.

Now, a week later, police don’t seem to be closer to finding out who fired the shot, although they hope a $10,000 reward will smoke someone out. Some in the Buena Park Police Department still are cursing the Fates and the unknown gunman, leaving Sgt. Rich Pena to wonder aloud on Thursday: “Whatever happened to sensitivity toward children and humanity?”

I’m glad he wasn’t asking me for an answer.

How to explain why a bullet that police say was fired into the air found its way into Xavier’s body? How to explain why instead of merely injuring him, it killed him?

Since there are no reassuring answers, we’re left to rail at someone who thought that firing a gun in the city--even into the air--was fun. It’s no longer a defense for people to say they don’t know of the consequences--there have been plenty of warnings over the years that even stray bullets come down eventually.

Police theorize the shooter probably was firing in conjunction with the Fourth of July celebration. A real patriot, no doubt, and what better way to show love of country than to fire a shot or two into the night sky?

Neither anger nor sarcasm will bring Xavier back. If it would, I could summon extra doses of both. Maddeningly, neither would a lengthy prison sentence for the shooter, assuming he’s found. Such recklessness demands punishment, but what’s the appropriate sentence for such indifference and ignorance?

Pena says the case probably would warrant manslaughter charges, and possibly something more serious depending on the circumstances. Although police say the bullet probably was fired into the air, Pena says it could have been fired from a lower angle.

Those kind of investigative nuts and bolts seem almost trivial compared with the loss of life.

“What bothers me,” Pena says, “is this young boy was there to celebrate the nation’s birthday, and he died. I have 20 volunteers behind me, and we’re going out there in the hot sun and pass out fliers on it [to try to find the shooter]. We all care. He was a child of the world, and he’s no longer here.”

Cops can’t afford to get caught up in the tragedies they see. If they did, they’d all be in therapy. Still, Pena says, Xavier’s death has been tough--partly for unexpected, poignant reasons.

Such as when Xavier’s 17-year-old brother, Arturo, came up to Pena. “He hugs me and says thanks for all your work, and I feel like I haven’t done anything,” Pena says. “He thanks everyone, shakes everybody’s hands. If that’s a reflection of what [Xavier] would have been like, look at what we’re missing.”

That commendation only makes me angrier. Mindless crime can lead to a lifetime of what-ifs about the victims it claims, not to mention the hurt it leaves behind in the families and friends.

I went out to Boisseranc Park this week, and on that midweek afternoon, a bunch of kids were playing in the park. Two young teens were shooting hoops, and nearby two younger boys were idling the time on the playground equipment.

One of the two younger boys, Fonze Romero, says he comes to the park almost every day in the summer.

“I like to skate and play basketball,” he says. He’d heard about young Xavier’s death, but says the park is safe and that he isn’t afraid to hang out there.

We talk for a few minutes and I’m struck by how hip the boy seems, how full of life and energy.

I ask his age, and Fonze says he’s 9.

The same age as Xavier Morales, another boy unmindful of any real danger from a great day in the park.

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Dana Parsons’ column appears Wednesdays, Fridays and Sundays. Readers may reach Parsons by calling (714) 966-7821 or by writing to him at The Times’ Orange County edition, 1375 Sunflower Ave., Costa Mesa, CA 92626, or by e-mail to dana.parsons@latimes.com.