Friday, September 18, 2015

September 18


  1. Next thing I knew, she was on me, grabbing at my face, leaning in like she was going to kiss me. The smell coming out of her mouth turned my stomach. I didn't give myself time to think, I just reacted. Ok, maybe I overreacted.
    With both hands, I gave her a shove. The woman stumbled backwards, then tumbled down the brick stairs. There was a sickening crunch when she landed on the sidewalk. Then silence. Dead silence.
    Panting, I reached up and touched the wound on my shoulder. I winced as I ran my and over the site. I could feel the warm, stickiness from my blood, soaking through my shirt and coat. I took a deep breath, pulled out my phone, and called 911.
    "911, what's your emergency?"
    "Yeah, this is Dr. Kevin Hobbs. I need police and ambulance at 429 E. Stantson." I replied. "I was just attacked by some homeless woman. I think she's dead."
    "Ok, Dr. Hobbs," the dispatcher said, "are you injured?"
    I tried to roll my shoulder. Bad idea.
    "Yeah," I answered through clinched teeth, "I think she stabbed me in the shoulder. It's bleeding quite a bit."
    The faint clicking of fingers on a keyboard filled my ear.
    "Just sit tight, Sir, help is on the way."
    I plopped down on the top step and waited.
    Within five minutes, a police car pulled up, followed by an ambulance. A big, burly cop steppex out of the squad car and walked up.
    "Dr. Kevin Hobbs?" He asked.
    I nodded. "That's me."
    "I'm officer Franchote," he said, "I understand you had some excitement this afternoon?"
    I spent the next ten minutes giving my statement to the cop, while the paramedics dealt with the body in front of my apartment.
    "Well Sir, I think we're good for now," Franchote said, stuffing his notebook in his front pocket. "You can come down to the station in a day or two. In the meantime, you should probably head over to the hospital and get that wound checked out."
    I frowned. Damn, I hate hospitals. Filthy places.
    "Thank you," I said, extending my hand, "but I hate hospitals. My doctor has an excellent urgent care. I'll go there."
    The officer shook my hand. "As long as you get it looked at. Don't want you to end up with something like that Forever Flu that's going around."
    Yeah, right.
    While the ambulance and squad car pulled out onto the road, I walked back up the stairs. As I bent down to retrieve my keys and my mail, I was hit with a wave of nausea. I stood up, hung my head over the railing, and barfed in the flowerbed. Then I staggered down the stairs and eased myself into the car. I needed to get to my doctor.

    1. Love Love Love, I love what you're doing here. It's great. Really wonderfully done!!

  2. I spotted Glenda DeHaven right away. A good looking woman, innocent in her flowery dress and low-heeled sandals to match. Probably used the feminine clothing as a decoy. Her graceful movements and fluid hands tapped in rhythm on the Rebet button and hypnotized me only momentarily. After all, she was a thief.

    What made people think that it was okay to cheat and steal? My entire life I asked that question, forced to stay inside our dingy apartment throughout elementary school because Grandma said it wasn’t safe outside. Then I learned how to disrespect my family and didn’t heed their lessons.

    In junior high and high school I got caught up in gangs who stole car parts, robbed stores, and held up other kids at gun point for a few bucks. But one night in my second year of high school, Julio and Benny gunned down that helpless old man for thirty-two dollars. An image of Grandma came to mind, lying in a pool of blood like him with her hand on her heart and her legs splayed open. I wouldn’t let that happen to her.

    Anyone looking for an easy way out of a hard life had to think twice when they met up with me. I didn’t get to steal for a living, and no one else should either. Thieves had to be taught a lesson. The police department didn’t like that attitude, said I had a control issue so I couldn’t get into the academy. But private security firms liked a man who wasn’t afraid to take a tough stance against criminals. Mr. Nogales at the Flamingo said right away that I had what he needed to take down the bad guys.

    And DeHaven was just another bad guy in pretty clothes.

    She moved to another machine, and I waited until she sat down before I got any closer. She’d better enjoy this next slot, because it was going to be her last.

    1. I love the description of DeHaven. I love his awareness of her. THat's fantastic!