When I Get Home

I came up on my back door and looked around to see if anyone was watching me. I was sweating profusely now and I half expected a bullet to crash into me any moment. I saw no one, but that proved nothing. I never saw the guy last time he shot me.

I quietly opened the door and stepped inside. I needed to have Karen tell me what she was hiding. That had to be the reason she was so nervous and sad all the time. I realized the term that I would use to describe her was "acting guilty" and I had to know why, or we'd never get past it.

I walked through the kitchen and then heard voices in the den! I carefully worked my way closer so I could make out what was being said.

"You'll be coming with me, as soon as I take care of that prick you married!" snarled a masculine voice. "We'll never be apart again. You'll be my woman."

"Ralph, I will not be your woman! I have a husband and I love him. Please leave here now!" begged Karen.

"You didn't act like you loved him that afternoon you fucked me, Karen. You know it was the best sex you ever had. You're just feeling a little guilty about it," insisted the male voice. "We're in love and were meant to be together. You know that."

"Ralph, I'll go with you if we leave right now, okay? There's no reason to wait for Kurt. We can be long gone before he even misses me," reasoned Karen.

"I don't think so, Karen. You'll try to come crawling back to him first chance you get. If he's dead, you'll need me. You won't have any place else to go," replied the man I know knew had to be Ralph Williams.

"Ralph, it was a horrible mistake. I had too much to drink and it must have not mixed with the cold medicine I was taking. You were very persuasive. I don't love you. I don't even like you, Ralph. I love my husband! This is just a terrible misunderstanding. Please leave now and I won't tell anyone you were here," pleaded Karen.

"I don't think so, Karen. Sure you were a little drunk, but you loved the sex! You know you did. Now, how soon before your fucking husband gets home?" demanded Williams. "The cops have started asking questions about me and I can't stick around too long."

I heard what sounded like a quick scuffle and suddenly I knew real fear for Karen. I heard what sounded like a hard slap and then Williams laughed.

"You stupid cunt! Did you really think you'd shoot me with this? Shit, it would knock you ass over tin cup if you fired it! Shotguns are made for men, Karen. Now get away from the window before I blow your cheating ass right off," threatened Williams.

I stepped around the corner. I couldn't remain hidden any longer with the bastard threatening Karen and all my goddamn guns stored in the den! I knew I'd have to act fast or it would be all over, probably for both Karen and me. Karen saw me first and Williams noticed her reaction. He quickly swung the double barrel to point at my chest.

"Here's our hero!" yelled Williams as he brought the shotgun to his shoulder. "Let's see if I can make a bigger hole this time, while you're looking at me!"

It seemed that he was done talking. He intended to blow me in half with my own 12 gauge! I'll never forget what happened next, if I last another hundred years! In what seemed like slow motion, Karen launched herself in front of me just as Williams pulled the trigger! It was like the scene from "The Bodyguard". That was not part of my half-baked plan!

I reached down and grabbed my 36 inch aluminum softball bat from its hiding place behind the drapes. I pretty much swung for the fences as Williams dropped the shotgun and clawed for the pistol tucked in his waistband. Karen was on the floor to my right by this time, so I didn't hold back.

By crouching as he tried to pull his gun out, Williams saved his life. The bat made pretty good contact, but landed much higher on his head than I had intended. It was more solid than a glancing blow, but not a skull crusher. He went over backwards and never moved.

I picked up the shotgun and pulled the handgun from his waistband. Then I picked a couple shells from the top of the trim over the window and broke open the shotgun and dropped them in and snapped it closed. Karen was curled up on the floor, sobbing loudly.

I gently took her arm and helped her stand. Her body shook as she clung to me. I was really getting worried about her by this time. The mental trauma she had gone through had been incredible. It had shaken her to her very core.

Williams was still out when the police arrived, followed immediately by the ambulance. The EMT's placed the bastard carefully on a backboard and carried him out of the house. Detective Henderson was one of the first to arrive. I explained everything to her as Karen clung to me on the couch.

"So this man had pushed himself on Karen's friend, Mary Shaw? He tried to kill Mr. Shaw by running him off the road last spring and he also shot you in the back? Why did he shoot you, Mr. Lent? What reason would he have and why didn't your wife tell us about him sooner?" quizzed the detective.

"Karen missed over a month of work and never even knew about the accident Mary Shaw's husband experienced. His accident was the day after I was shot. They had moved out of the area before Karen returned to work. They were casual workplace acquaintances and not close at all. Karen had only seen this Williams around a few times and had very little to do with him," I calmly answered. "She never even gave the guy a thought. In fact, she had forgotten all about him until you mentioned his name the other day."

"I still don't see why he shot you, Mr. Lent. What reason would he have?" prodded the detective.

"That's exactly why Karen never mentioned him! He didn't have a reason to shoot me, but he thought he had a reason to shoot Karen! He thought she had convinced Mary Shaw not to have anything to do with him. He was actually trying to shoot Karen through the kitchen window and I stepped into the line of fire. I saw a comb on the pavement and leaned ahead to pick it up. The bullet went through me but was deflected enough by my rib to miss Karen, and it lodged harmlessly in the wall. Neither of us even dreamed the shooter was after her. I don't think the police considered that possibility either, did they, Detective Henderson?" I asked with as much indignation as I could muster.

"You were the one that was shot, so the investigation focused on your activities, quite naturally, Mr. Lent," replied Detective Henderson defensively. "As you know, I was zeroing in on this man. I had pulled all the police reports for the week you were shot, and I read them over several times. I noticed that there were two seemingly random acts of violence about the same time.

"The only thing I could find that linked you and Tim Shaw was the fact that your wives worked in the same place. Tim Shaw openly accused Williams, so he was questioned once regarding the incident. Since there was absolutely no proof of any involvement by him in the accident, nothing came of it. Both women would have known Williams, and Mr. Shaw had fought with him because of his unwanted attentions to Mrs. Shaw. We just couldn't figure out a motive for him to shoot you."

"Until he explained this whole thing to us in the den, we had no idea either," I assured the detective. "He's crazy, pure and simple. Don't look for real strong logic from a nut like him."

Then I continued, "I was just glad that I had unloaded that shotgun a few weeks ago. Karen's friend had dropped in a few times with her little boy and it scared me. I couldn't have lived with myself if there were some accident involving the shotgun. I forgot to tell Karen that I had unloaded it and placed the shells on top of the window trim, behind the drapes. My paranoia made me stick that bat back there, just in case. Getting shot in the back makes a man wary."

"Well, Mr. Lent, your precautions certainly seemed to have been warranted," agreed Henderson. "I can see that Mrs. Lent is feeling the worse for wear this evening, and understandably so. I would ask that you both come in tomorrow afternoon to make your statements?"

"We'll be there, Detective Henderson," I promised. "We're just glad to have this all over with,"

It took awhile, but Karen and I were finally alone. She had stopped sobbing, but she was still clinging to me. As I sat there holding her, I realized some of what she had gone through since that day I was shot. She had been consumed with guilt and fear. I had been almost killed. She had cheated on me. What would happen if I learned the truth? She knew how the way I felt about infidelity. She would be cast out. She must have believed that.

"Kurt? I don't know where you came up with the story you told the detective. You must know it wasn't exactly the way it happened. I..I slept with that man one time. It was wrong, I was drunk, but no words will make it right. I really didn't know about Mary's husband being forced off the road. I didn't know much of anything for a long time while you were recovering, except what pertained to your well-being.

"He never really bothered me after I told him I was very happily married and would never be with him again. I explained I had made a horrible mistake He seemed to take it pretty well. Then he started after Mary and it became obvious that he was a weird guy, but I never thought he might be the man that shot you until the detective asked about him the other day. It started me thinking about how odd he was," admitted Karen.

"I had been so worried about you, that I thought I'd go crazy. My sleeping with that man filled me with guilt and shame. I promised God that if he would let you live, I'd spend the rest of my life making it up to you," Karen confessed. "The problem was that no matter what I did for you, I never felt better. I never felt forgiven, Kurt. I just felt dirty and guilty."

"Karen, we'll spend the morning getting our stories straight, and then we'll stick to them. Williams has had a nasty blow to the head so no one will believe him if he gives a different version, understand?" I asked Karen.

"What are you going to do with me, Kurt? I'll tell them anything you want, but what about us? Will you divorce me after this all dies out? I won't blame you. I deserve it," sobbed Karen.

"Darling, I think you've been punished enough, don't you? I keep seeing you jumping in front of me when you thought that bastard was going to shoot me. Don't you think that told me something about how you feel about me?" I asked gently as I stroked Karen's back while I held her to my chest.

"Looking back, that must have seemed a bit melodramatic, but I really did try to save you, Kurt. I knew if you died, I'd want to die, too. Thank God you unloaded that gun!" sighed Karen.

It turned out that Williams suffered brain damage and never regained speech or cognitive thought. He's housed in a state facility for people with his criminal history, and his present medical condition. I think about him from time to time. I'm glad I didn't kill him, but on the other hand, I know it wouldn't have bothered me very much. Whether he was insane, or just mean as hell doesn't matter to me. He attacked me and my wife, and I did what I had to do.

It took a while but the old Karen is back. She doesn't tie my shoes for me, or fawn all over me any more. She gets upset and chews me out now and then. She even disagrees with me on a fairly regular basis, but she always comes to me at night and gives me all her love. That's all I ask.