I signed the last of the State paperwork, Brenda St James, and locked everything away in the safe, along with the day’s receipts.
As I was spinning the lock on the safe, I heard some banging from the back room. I knew the doors were locked. James and I Always kept them locked, even where we were both here. It’s two thirty in the morning, and I should be getting ready to leave. But instead, I went for the gun we kept in my desk, It was the closest revolver. Grabbing it and headed for my door. I just reached it as they broke through the door into the storeroom. I heard them crashing and swearing in the storeroom, within seconds they broke through the inside door. I fired my gun at them. The first bullet hit the man front in the center of his chest. The sound of the gun going off in the small rooms made everyone stop for a second. That I was armed and used it surprised them.
That several second shocks gave me barely enough time to slam my door shut and get out the other door to the kitchen. I barely made it to the front door of the bar, before they crashed through both of my doors into and through the kitchen. I managed to get out the front door and disappear down the block into the dark just before they came out the front door. From the shadows down the street, I watched them look around, and swear, and generally not have any idea what to do next. I knew what to do. I made my way down a couple more blocks from the bar. Once I felt I was safe for the minute, I stopped and rested. One of the things Jim had always taught me was to take your time and assess your situation, or the situation you're going to. After about a half hour I could hear again. The sound of the .38 special going off in the small space had completely deafened me. I knew they weren’t hearing good either. Once my breathing calmed down I took stock of my situation. It was almost three am, on a Friday night. I had just shot someone in self-defense, and I escaped from the bar, with nothing.
I realized I didn’t have my pocketbook, or keys to the car, or any money. Not having any money limited my options. A cab was out of the question, and the trolleys and buses weren’t running at this time of night. That left walking. But to where?
I decided that going back home wasn’t an option, aside from being too far away to walk, It probably wasn’t safe. I remembered that some of the missionary storefronts were open all night. I’d seen one not far from the bar. It took me a while to find it. I made sure to stay out of streetlights and away from anyone on the streets. It didn’t help that I couldn’t remember exactly where it was. Eventually, I did find it. Hiding my revolver as best I could under my blouse in my jeans. I slid into line behind several old men who wandered in looking for a handout, and probably a bed to sleep it off.
When I smelled the food, I realized I was hungry. I hadn’t eaten since before I opened the bar at 3 in the afternoon. I gladly made my way through the line and got a nice plate of hot stew, and some bread, and coffee. I topped it off with a slice of apple pie. Sitting there in the middle of the night, in a crowd of half drunk smelly winos, I felt safer than I had in the last hour or so.
Once I had my meal, and listened to the required speech about God, and managed to talk the lady in charge into letting me stay the night. I settled down to sleep. Feeling safe. At least for now.
The next morning presented new problems. While I had managed to get through the night without getting killed, or killing anyone else, I had no idea what to do now.
I Managed to borrow some change for the pay phones.
I risked calling the office. No answer. “Where was he?”
I had some change left, so I called Walt. Again, No Answer.
Huddling back in the corner, trying to disappear. I rethought my situation. I decided to assume that James had been to the bar and found the dead man and that all my stuff was there, and the bar hadn’t been locked up. He would assume something had happened to me. Which it had. What would next course of action be? With my mind working clearer, I imagined the picture he would find. If I’d found that scene, I’d assume that I’d been kidnapped, or worse. Jim was out looking for me. But he had no idea where to look. Granted I wasn’t actually kidnapped, But I was still in danger. I knew I couldn’t stay at the shelter all day. So I waited until a bunch of people left at one time, and managed to blend in with them, and slip outside. But where to go? I needed money and other stuff. So I decided as I was relatively close to the bar. I’d go back, and at least see if I could get in, or leave a message for Jim.
Twenty minutes later I reached the street the bar was on. In the daylight, it didn’t look so scary. But last night in the dead of night, with only a street light at the end of the street, It was scary. I stood in the shadow of the building for some time. I hoped against hope I’d see Jim’s old Ford Coupe sitting in front. It wasn’t there. The only car there was a black & white police car, and the officer in it didn't seem to be paying much attention. I worked my way around behind the building. The back doors were roped off. The stockroom door, they’d broken in through was barely hanging by a hinge. I didn’t want to touch the door, but I had to, to carefully slid in the open door. In the stock room, I made my way to the broken inside door. Again careful not to disturb anything. I slipped into the small anteroom, between the two offices. There on the floor in front of the inside door of the stockroom, was the outline, of the man I’d shot last night. The reality of it hit me again. I’d actually killed someone. I stayed away from the outline, went into my office. Again I was careful not to touch anything. There sat my purse, on the table next to the door, right where I always left it, for grabbing on the way out.
I decided that I’d leave Jim a message. I found a note pad from the bottom of my desk.
“Jim,
I’m ok. They didn’t get me.
I came back about 9:30 this morning to get my purse and some money.
Meet me at our movie place. I’ll wait for you.
Love Brenda”
I left the note in the middle of my desk, where I was sure he’d see, the next time he came in. Although I had no idea when he’d show, here again, I could only hope it would be soon.
I slipped back out the way I’d come in, taking my purse and some money from the safe. I left a note in the safe dating the time and how much I’d taken.
With money, I was able to grab a trolley and ride over the to the movie theatre. I only hoped he’d remember what I was talking about. At the theater, I went in and found a dark corner, and sat to wait. I sat near an emergency exit in case I had to leave in a hurry. Once the lights went down, and the movie started, I got out the revolver, keeping it low and in the shadows, I reloaded the spent chamber, placing the spent casing in my pocketbook.
I had no idea how long I would have stayed here, But I didn’t dare risk going out in the street again. So I settled in for what could be a long wait.
As I was spinning the lock on the safe, I heard some banging from the back room. I knew the doors were locked. James and I Always kept them locked, even where we were both here. It’s two thirty in the morning, and I should be getting ready to leave. But instead, I went for the gun we kept in my desk, It was the closest revolver. Grabbing it and headed for my door. I just reached it as they broke through the door into the storeroom. I heard them crashing and swearing in the storeroom, within seconds they broke through the inside door. I fired my gun at them. The first bullet hit the man front in the center of his chest. The sound of the gun going off in the small rooms made everyone stop for a second. That I was armed and used it surprised them.
That several second shocks gave me barely enough time to slam my door shut and get out the other door to the kitchen. I barely made it to the front door of the bar, before they crashed through both of my doors into and through the kitchen. I managed to get out the front door and disappear down the block into the dark just before they came out the front door. From the shadows down the street, I watched them look around, and swear, and generally not have any idea what to do next. I knew what to do. I made my way down a couple more blocks from the bar. Once I felt I was safe for the minute, I stopped and rested. One of the things Jim had always taught me was to take your time and assess your situation, or the situation you're going to. After about a half hour I could hear again. The sound of the .38 special going off in the small space had completely deafened me. I knew they weren’t hearing good either. Once my breathing calmed down I took stock of my situation. It was almost three am, on a Friday night. I had just shot someone in self-defense, and I escaped from the bar, with nothing.
I realized I didn’t have my pocketbook, or keys to the car, or any money. Not having any money limited my options. A cab was out of the question, and the trolleys and buses weren’t running at this time of night. That left walking. But to where?
I decided that going back home wasn’t an option, aside from being too far away to walk, It probably wasn’t safe. I remembered that some of the missionary storefronts were open all night. I’d seen one not far from the bar. It took me a while to find it. I made sure to stay out of streetlights and away from anyone on the streets. It didn’t help that I couldn’t remember exactly where it was. Eventually, I did find it. Hiding my revolver as best I could under my blouse in my jeans. I slid into line behind several old men who wandered in looking for a handout, and probably a bed to sleep it off.
When I smelled the food, I realized I was hungry. I hadn’t eaten since before I opened the bar at 3 in the afternoon. I gladly made my way through the line and got a nice plate of hot stew, and some bread, and coffee. I topped it off with a slice of apple pie. Sitting there in the middle of the night, in a crowd of half drunk smelly winos, I felt safer than I had in the last hour or so.
Once I had my meal, and listened to the required speech about God, and managed to talk the lady in charge into letting me stay the night. I settled down to sleep. Feeling safe. At least for now.
The next morning presented new problems. While I had managed to get through the night without getting killed, or killing anyone else, I had no idea what to do now.
I Managed to borrow some change for the pay phones.
I risked calling the office. No answer. “Where was he?”
I had some change left, so I called Walt. Again, No Answer.
Huddling back in the corner, trying to disappear. I rethought my situation. I decided to assume that James had been to the bar and found the dead man and that all my stuff was there, and the bar hadn’t been locked up. He would assume something had happened to me. Which it had. What would next course of action be? With my mind working clearer, I imagined the picture he would find. If I’d found that scene, I’d assume that I’d been kidnapped, or worse. Jim was out looking for me. But he had no idea where to look. Granted I wasn’t actually kidnapped, But I was still in danger. I knew I couldn’t stay at the shelter all day. So I waited until a bunch of people left at one time, and managed to blend in with them, and slip outside. But where to go? I needed money and other stuff. So I decided as I was relatively close to the bar. I’d go back, and at least see if I could get in, or leave a message for Jim.
Twenty minutes later I reached the street the bar was on. In the daylight, it didn’t look so scary. But last night in the dead of night, with only a street light at the end of the street, It was scary. I stood in the shadow of the building for some time. I hoped against hope I’d see Jim’s old Ford Coupe sitting in front. It wasn’t there. The only car there was a black & white police car, and the officer in it didn't seem to be paying much attention. I worked my way around behind the building. The back doors were roped off. The stockroom door, they’d broken in through was barely hanging by a hinge. I didn’t want to touch the door, but I had to, to carefully slid in the open door. In the stock room, I made my way to the broken inside door. Again careful not to disturb anything. I slipped into the small anteroom, between the two offices. There on the floor in front of the inside door of the stockroom, was the outline, of the man I’d shot last night. The reality of it hit me again. I’d actually killed someone. I stayed away from the outline, went into my office. Again I was careful not to touch anything. There sat my purse, on the table next to the door, right where I always left it, for grabbing on the way out.
I decided that I’d leave Jim a message. I found a note pad from the bottom of my desk.
“Jim,
I’m ok. They didn’t get me.
I came back about 9:30 this morning to get my purse and some money.
Meet me at our movie place. I’ll wait for you.
Love Brenda”
I left the note in the middle of my desk, where I was sure he’d see, the next time he came in. Although I had no idea when he’d show, here again, I could only hope it would be soon.
I slipped back out the way I’d come in, taking my purse and some money from the safe. I left a note in the safe dating the time and how much I’d taken.
With money, I was able to grab a trolley and ride over the to the movie theatre. I only hoped he’d remember what I was talking about. At the theater, I went in and found a dark corner, and sat to wait. I sat near an emergency exit in case I had to leave in a hurry. Once the lights went down, and the movie started, I got out the revolver, keeping it low and in the shadows, I reloaded the spent chamber, placing the spent casing in my pocketbook.
I had no idea how long I would have stayed here, But I didn’t dare risk going out in the street again. So I settled in for what could be a long wait.