Angels & Imperfection

by Dan Arnold

  I got back in my truck, and drove the short distance to Christine’s building. I parked just a few spaces away from the stairs leading to her floor. The parking space was directly outside her apartment. If anyone inside was watching for me, they would see me coming, but I couldn’t see them because of the reflective windows on the building.

  I was still dressed for hunting. I had on camouflage pants and a similar camo pattern, long sleeve shirt. I was carrying my camouflage jacket, tossed casually over one shoulder. I was even wearing a camo print ball cap. I had on my beat up old field boots.

  I looked like hundreds of men and boys all over the country who were dressed the same way every weekend, in hunting season. In this part of the south, because we only hunt on private land, we don’t have to wear blaze orange. Come to think of it, there are plenty of women who dress this way, or a variation of it, as well. At this time of year, a lot of us look like we belong in the cast of the TV show ‘Duck Dynasty.’

  I trotted up the stairs as if I didn’t have a care in the world. When I reached Christine’s door, it appeared undamaged, but there was a very clear, dirty tennis shoe print, right by the door knob and key lock. On closer examination, I could see the door had not been kicked open, but there was something odd going on. Christine would never have allowed a dirty shoe print on her door.

  I took a deep breath.

  I knocked on her door with the old familiar “shave and a haircut” beat.

  A moment later, Christine called out, rather casually, “Come on in, it’s open.”

  I turned the knob and opened the door into the entrance way.

  Down the hall, in the living area, Walter peered around the corner and smiled.

  He was holding Mr. Tumescence, Christine’s cat.”

  “Yeah, buddy, come on in.” Walter said.

  When I stepped forward to go into the living area, something slammed into the back of my head, and the lights went out.

  Forty

  “Hey, that’s a cool gun,” a voice said.

  I opened my eyes to see Walter and Orlando both looking down at me.

  I was lying on the floor just inside the living room. I guess Orlando must have dragged me in there, after he hit me. Walter was holding a Glock 19 in nine millimeter in his right hand, casually pointed at me. He had my .45 stuck in his waistband, and he was holding my Browning in his left hand. Clearly Walter had frisked me and found the guns I had been carrying under my shirt. My Jacket was lying in a chair where one of them had tossed it.

  My head began to clear. There was a sharp pain all along the back of my head. I guessed Orlando had been behind the door when I came in, and had bashed me on the head with something. I had pretty much done the same thing to him, a few months ago.

  Turn-about, is fair play.

  I became aware of Christine and Lori, who were both seated side by side on the love seat, next to the couch.

  Lori was holding Mr. Tumescence. She looked very sad. Christine looked angry.

  “Gimme it,” Orlando said, reaching out for my Browning as Walter was slipping it into his jacket pocket.

  “Yes, I will, shortly. Right now I need you to help Mr. Tucker get on his feet. No, delete that… help him have a seat on the sofa.”

  After Orlando had shoved me onto the couch, Walter looked around the room at everyone and grinned.

  “Now isn’t this cozy, all the players in the same place, at the same time? I must say, I’m annoyed at you, Mr. Tucker. You’ve delayed the proceedings for far too long.”

  “What ‘proceedings’ did you have in mind, Walter?”

  “Oh, I promised Orlando I would reunite him with Lori, among other things.”

  “Yeah, I can guess what those ‘other things’ are.” I suggested.

  “Well, Mr. Tucker, you’re a clever boy. Let’s hear what you think is going to happen.”

  “It’s my belief your plan is that the only person who is going to leave here alive, is you.”

  “Oh, don’t be so dramatic, Mr. Tucker. I am going to punish you. I’m going to start by having the date with Christine she has been so reluctant to do.”

  I looked at Christine.

  She was staring calmly at Walter.

  “Then, Orlando is going to have some fun with Lori.”

  I looked at Lori.

  She was crying quietly, with big tears slowly running down her face.

  “Walter, did you send one of your men to kill me?” I asked him.

  “Yes, I did, and boy was I disappointed. It just goes to show, if you want something done right, you have to do it yourself.”

  “Why did you kill Ed Nordstrom?”

  “You know why. It was just some routine housekeeping.”

  “No. I don’t know why.” I answered.

  Walter’s face got red.’

  “Nordstrom was disloyal to me. That’s why I killed him. Loyalty is a trait I value above all others. End of story.”

  I shook my head. “That’s what your father says. It’s not too late, Walter. You can stop all this and be forgiven. If you stop right now, we won’t bring any charges against you.”

  “Oh, I wouldn’t concern myself about such things, if I were you.” He observed.

  Walter took my .45 out of his waistband and handed it to Orlando.

  “I think you’ll find this is an even better gun than the one he stole from you. Keep it pointed at Mr. Tucker, and feel free to shoot him or Lori, if he so much as moves a hair.”

  Orlando grinned and jacked the slide on my .45, pointing it first at me, then Lori, back and forth. I knew as little as four pounds of pressure on the trigger would fire my gun. If he continued to wave it around, he was likely to kill one of us by accident.

  “Get up Christine; we’re going in the bedroom,” Walter said, pointing his Glock at her.

  Christine stood up very calmly and led the way into the bedroom. As she walked past me, she caught my eye and I saw something strong, something like confidence there.

  “Don’t do this Walter. The police will know you raped her.” I warned him.

  Walter paused in the doorway.

  “You must think I’m stupid. I’ve been telling everyone for months, Christine is my girlfriend. The phone records will confirm it, and I’ve even brought my toothbrush. You see, I know how to plan ahead.”

  He closed the door behind him.

  “Orlando, listen to me. Walter means to kill you, me, and both of the women,” I said, desperately.

  He grinned. “You, for sure, dude. Me? No, I don’t think so.”

  “He’s been planning this for months. It’s why he hired an attorney to bail you out.”

  “Planning what?” Orlando asked, stupidly.

  “He means to make himself look like a hero. He’s going to kill you with his Glock. Then he’s going to kill me, and both of these women, with the same gun you’re holding right now. He’ll make it look like he came here and found you, having just killed us. He’ll be the big man who killed you.”

  “… Say what?”

  It all happened at once.

  From inside Christine’s bedroom, there was the sound of three, fast gunshots. Inside the apartment, the noise was shocking and incredibly loud.

  Orlando looked toward the bedroom, just as the front door crashed in. There was the sound of shattering glass in both of the bedrooms.

  Orlando turned back toward the front door, swinging my .45 in that direction.

  I shot him three times with his own stolen .38, which I had left hidden between the cushions of the couch, since the last time I had been here.

  Orlando went down, like a balloon with all the air escaping.

  Several armored SWAT team men came into the room, all levelling their assault rifles on me.

  I slowly set the .38 on the floor, and raised my hands high above my head.

  “He’s a friendly,” Tony yelled, coming in behind them.

  “Clear,” someone yelled from inside the guest bedroom.

 
; “Clear,” someone yelled from Christine’s bedroom.

  “All Clear,” Tony yelled, as he knelt beside Orlando, pocketing the .38.

  I went to Lori. She had buried her face in Mr. Tum’s fur. The cat had remained unruffled through the noise and violence. He was actually purring. Lori was sobbing.

  I stroked her hair. “It’s OK, baby girl. Everything is OK, now.”

  Christine’s bedroom door opened and a heavily armed and armored SWAT team member led Christine into the living room. She looked perfectly calm.

  “This lady dropped the perp back in there, sir, he’s deader than disco,” the armored officer said, pointing over his shoulder at Christine’s bedroom.

  “That guy had two guns, but she shot him three times, with this,” he said, holding up Christine’s “Judge” revolver. “When I came through the window, she nearly unloaded the last two on me. I was quick to take it away from her.”

  Tony was feeling for a pulse at Orlando’s jugular vein.

  “This one is still alive, call in the EMTs,” Tony said, standing up. He was standing with one foot securing my .45.

  I looked at Christine. She was beginning to tremble. I could tell she was starting to crumble.

  Tony saw it too.

  “Christine, come sit down here with Lori.” Tony said, as he wrapped an arm around her. She collapsed against him and began to sob.

  Tony embraced her and let her cry. With his foot, he slid my .45 away from where Orlando was curled on the carpet, which was slowly soaking up his blood. The stain resistant chemicals in the carpet fibers, like the four of us, being gradually overwhelmed.

  Forty-One

  The SWAT team had used ladders at the end of the building to access the roof, and then simultaneously breeched the front door and rappelled through the bedroom windows of Christine’s apartment.

  I was sadly aware if I could have just convinced Walter not to follow through on his plans, or even delayed him just a moment or two longer, he might still be alive and Orlando might not be fighting for his life in the back of an ambulance on the way to the ER. If I had just walked up the stairs, instead of jogging… if this, if that…

  “It is what it is.” I thought I heard myself mumble.

  There was something wrong with me.

  My head hurt, horribly.

  Christine was putting Mr. Tumescence into a cat carrier, so we could all be escorted out of the apartment which was now a crime scene.

  The whole apartment seemed somehow too small now; there were too many heavily armed soldiers, and I couldn’t see clearly.

  When I tried to stand up, the room was swimming.

  I had to sit down.

  Tony was watching me and he called for the back-up EMTs.

  “Well, J.W., this is what you get for not following my advice. If we had just breeched the apartment without you going in, you wouldn’t have gotten your bell rung,”

  “No, Tony, they were watching for John at the window. There’s no telling what would have happened if they had seen the police coming,” Christine said.

  She had “Tummy” in the carrier and was ready to go.

  Lori stood with her. She had stopped crying. She was looking at me with a very concerned expression.

  “It was a miracle it turned out this way, Tony. If I had been in town and could have gotten over here within minutes, there wouldn’t have been time to get the SWAT team assembled and into position. Walter couldn’t afford to have any gunfire in the apartment before I got here. He knew once gunshots were heard, the police would be on the way. In order for his plan to work, he had to make it look like he showed up and took out Orlando, just moments too late to save the women, and me. He wanted it to look like I had failed to protect Lori from Orlando, and my failure cost everyone their lives. He would emerge as the hero who protected Lori’s parents and killed the bad guy. He got too cocky, I guess the recent attention we got in the press pushed his buttons.” I said.

  Then I threw up.

  “Where are those medics?” Tony yelled.

  “Coming up the stairs, LT,” somebody said.

  The light was hurting my eyes.

  “Ladies, please come with me,” A policeman said.

  I was vaguely aware Lori was now sitting next to me on the couch.

  “No, not till I know he’s OK,” she said.

  “I’ll be fine, honey. You go on with Christine and Mr. Tumescence.”

  The EMTs showed up and checked me out.

  “We need to get him to the ER. His pupils are unequally dilated. He may have a serious head injury.”

  The ride to the hospital in the ambulance was not fun. At the hospital, the ER staff was efficient, but all the examinations and tests took hours. Eventually I was diagnosed with a moderate concussion, with no skull fracture.

  I would fully recover, other than the permanent minimal brain damage. No worries, some people figure I’m brain damaged anyway.

  They decided to keep me overnight for observation. It was nearly dark outside by the time I was put into a bed in a hospital room.

  Christine had come to the hospital at some point.

  She found me in my room. She sat in one of those odd, futon–like hospital chairs that double as a recliner, for family or friends to sleep on.

  “Lori is with her parents now. The police took us downtown to give statements, and her parents met us there. Tony said you could come in and give your statement whenever you feel up to it.” Christine informed me.

  “Not today.”

  “Well, maybe not officially, but Tony came with me, and he’ll be here any minute.”

  I closed my eyes.

  “Hey, J.W. Long day, huh?” Tony asked, as he walked into the room.

  I squinted at him.

  “I woke up with fire ants,”

  He and Christine looked at each other and then both of them looked at me, with some concern clearly evident on their faces. My statement seemed strange to them. I guess they figured I was deranged.

  I started to chuckle, but it made my head hurt, even worse.

  “This morning, in my trailer, I had fire ants in my sleeping bag. I was at the hunting lease, remember?”

  They both looked relieved.

  “Ouch,” Tony said.

  “Yeah, but if they hadn’t been there, I wouldn’t have gotten Christine’s phone call,” I said.

  “God sent the ants,” Christine said.

  I shrugged.

  “I know He did, John. I felt Him with me, through this whole day. I prayed and He… It’s as if… I met Jesus today.”

  “Yeah, you nearly did,” Tony said.

  “No, Tony, I really did!” She was beaming. “I met Jesus today! He gave me peace and it was as if I were being bathed in light, and there was this… I can’t really describe it.”

  I grinned. “You don’t have to. I knew there was something different about you.”

  Tony was staring at Christine.

  He nodded. “Yeah, I see it too. I guess it explains how well you’ve managed, after…” He trailed off.

  “Oh, I’m so very, very… sad, about Walter. He looked so… surprised.” she said dejectedly.

  “I’m sorry too, Christine, he made his own choices,” I said.

  She bowed her head.

  “After, when the policeman brought me out of the room, I looked at his body. It was just an empty husk. Walter wasn’t there anymore.” She closed her eyes. “I don’t ever want to have to do something like that again.”

  Tony reached over and took Christine’s hand; he sat on the arm of her chair.

  We sat in silence for a while.

  Eventually, I asked, “Is Lori OK?”

  “Yes, John. She was just so overcome with shame and sadness. She couldn’t believe she had ever thought there was anything good or attractive about either Orlando or Walter. She told me when she saw Orlando hit you, it broke her heart. She felt responsible. She felt responsible for all of it. She was horribly worried about you. I c
alled her the minute we heard the diagnosis,” Christine replied.

  “Good thing I have such a hard head, huh?”

  “Humph! Thick maybe, so thick there’s probably barely room for your pea brain.” Tony said.

  Christine still wanted to talk about Lori.

  “I’m trying to help Lori understand none of this was directly her fault. What happened with her and Orlando, happened because of choices she made, and she experienced the consequences of those choices. She’s made better choices since, and all that went before is just water under the bridge. Everything Walter was a part of was always and only, all about Walter.”

  “How is Orlando?” I asked.

  “He’ll live to stand trial, despite your remarkable shooting skills. Somehow, even with a concussion and sitting on a couch, you managed to hit him three times with three shots. You put him down, but the medics got him stabilized and he’s had some surgery. He’s right here in this hospital, in guarded condition,” Tony responded.

  “It’s not too late for him. He can still repent and choose redemption.” I said.

  Tony made a sort of ‘who knows’ gesture.

  We were aware, for some people the only time or place they ever hear the gospel, is when they are in jail. It was possible that Orlando would go into prison as a prisoner of the devil, and come out of prison with new freedom in Christ.

  Christine was struggling with something.

  “John, do you know why they didn’t… why didn’t they… you know… Why didn’t Walter and Orlando rape us, in the hour we were waiting for you to get there?”

  “Why do you think?” I asked her.

  Christine glanced at Tony, then back at me.

  “I’ve thought about it a lot. I think Walter thought it would hurt you more, if you were there when it happened. It would make him feel more powerful and in control. He wanted to show you what he was capable of, and that you couldn’t do anything about it.”

  I nodded. “I expect the whole thing was about him trying to prove to himself he was powerful and in control.”

  “Yeah, and that he was smarter than all of us,” Tony added. “He thought he could get away with rape and murder, as if there were no justice.”

  “As if he thought there was no God,” Christine added.