.219 Zipper

I can't believe that my life went to hell in just four years. It was four years ago that my wife went to work at Gilbert Endeavors. Both of our kids had become teens and Sarah was anxious to get out of the house. An entry-level secretarial job seemed perfect at the time.

My name is Skip Trexler. My actual name is Austin, but I have always been called Skip. I was what people would call wiry. All my life I have been on the lean side and a bit peaked. My parents tried their best to beef me up, but nothing seemed to work. Finally, when I was in my early teens they just gave up and decided to accept me as I was. It was a hell of a relief. I was average in height and still under one hundred and forty pounds when I graduated high school.

Now a lot on the thinner guys that I went to school with were active in Track and field or on the swimming team. Some of them were great cross country runners. Unfortunately, I had no interest in any sports, especially competitive ones.

The closest that I got to anything of a physical nature was shooting. Not trap or skeet, but long-distance shooting. It order to do this required me to get outside and included quite a bit of hiking and climbing. Of course, I was not talking about target shooting, but varmint hunting. I took to it with a passion.

All through high school and college, I spent most of my non-academic time either shooting or reloading. After eight years I was able to consistently hit a two-inch target at one hundred yards. My weapon of choice was a Marlin 336C cambered for the .219 Zipper. That cartridge had been out of production for many years, but I still made my own out of 30-30 shells necked down. Being good at something like this gave me a sense of pride in accomplishment which I desperately needed.

Two important things happened while I was in college; I met my wife, Sarah, and I met my future business partner, Chuck Fuller. Other than that it was a bit boring. I got my degree in geology, got married, and started a small surveying business with Chuck. Life was good.

Chuck and I never worked for anyone else. After college, we each put up $2500 and started our own little surveying company. We concentrated on small jobs and a lot of real estate sales transactions. We didn't make any big money, but we were both comfortable and happy. Chuck married a local girl three months after Sarah and I got married. We stood up for each other.

My family had a cabin, which we called a bungalow. in Schuylkill county on 160 acres. We had all of our family gatherings there and this was where I did most of my shooting when I was younger. The Fullers had a real cabin on 640 acres in Potter County. Chuck and his family did their hunting there but did not use it for anything else.

That is all you need to know for now. As I previously said, my life started going to hell about four years ago. Gilbert Endeavors designed and manufactured exercise equipment. Its headquarters was local, but they had manufacturing plants and distribution facilities all over the country. My wife, Sarah started working there when our twin daughters, Marci and Merci, started middle school. It seemed to be a good idea at first. The hours were good, the pay was fair, and the location was convenient. The first year or so was perfect.

GE hired Terry Ulrich, a retired NFL fullback to be the company marketing manager and official spokesman. Unfortunately, my wife worked in the marketing department. For six months, we were inundated with tales of the magnificent Terry Ulrich. My wife and daughters both were infatuated with his greatness. Thankfully after about six months all of the adoration seemed to taper off, at about the same time that Sarah started putting in lots of overtime.

Chuck and I both grew up in the area so we knew many people who worked at Gilbert. It was not difficult at all to find out that Sarah and Terry Ulrich had become an item. While their relationship blossomed our marriage deteriorated. As Sarah and I grew apart, my relationships with my daughters did also. I never confronted her about it. She started going on more and more business and promotional trips. When she came home she was always gushing about what she did, who she met, and what she saw. Of course, this was all for the girls' benefit. None of it was directed towards me. I had become a nonentity. She usually, but not always, invited me to accompany her to the company parties and gathering where I was then ignored for the rest of the evening. Sex was out of the question.

How does a man endure a life like this?

Up until Sarah started work, our family life was normal. We got to eat out regularly. We took family trips on the weekends and vacations at least once a year. The girls took ballet lessons and played soccer. Sarah was active in the PTA and the Girl Scouts. We had a pizza night every week. The one thing that the girls did not like was spending time at the bungalow. All of this was in the past. It was all gone now.

Sarah's out of town conferences and meetings gradually increased in the last few years. Lately, on several of the longer trips, she would take the girls with her. I was never invited or even asked if I wanted to go. I often overheard the girls talking to their friends about the great times they had. Nothing was ever said when they knew I was in earshot. Terry Ulrich was never mentioned, even though I knew he was on every one of the jaunts.

Everything came to a head at the Gilbert New Year's Eve party. It was difficult for Sarah to 'not' invite me. I didn't want to go. The humiliation of having to live with infidelity in private was bad enough. I was afraid that I would not be able to control myself if things got out of hand. I was right.

The girls were all dressed to the nines. Marci and Merci were excited because it was their first dress up adult party. I didn't have a tux so just wore the best suit that I had. I did get to wear a tie that I had gotten for last father's day. Several hundred people were milling around when we arrived.

"Skip Trexler. Glad to see you could make it. Thanks for bringing your wife and beautiful daughters to our little gathering." Terry Ulrich seemed to be smiling at the grimace on my face as he crushed my hand. He finally let go and I noticed Sarah was smirking. The girls gave me a disgusted look, as they quickly wandered off. It was the start of a bad evening.

I had one beer and crawled into a corner trying not to embarrass my wife and daughters any more than I had. I had not said or did one thing and yet I successfully ruined the start of their evening.

Terry Ulrich was a big guy; really big. He was at least a foot taller than I was and out weighted me by a hundred pounds, all muscle. He was the epitome of 'glad hand and grandstand'. My daughters mingled all around the room, but my wife spent most of the evening by his side. Most of the time she was lightly holding on to his arm. A few of the lower-level men made feeble attempts to strike up conversations with me, but none of them went anywhere. Several of the middle level and higher-level executives noticed me and smirked or made sly comments to their companions that I felt were related to my cuckold status. I didn't hear any actual words, but it was apparent what was going on.

My beer was replaced with a plain ginger ale which I sipped slowly as I worked myself into a bit of a frenzy. I normally was able to control myself pretty well and was proud of the fact that I never lost my temper. Many of the people had started dancing and I noticed that the girls were having a good time and my wife was also; with Ulrich of course. In the last three hours she, nor the girls, had spoken to me one time. Of course, I couldn't expect them to ruin a good evening by consorting with a wet blanket.

A small male-female mixed group was off to the side of the dance floor chatting when one of the guys pointed to Sarah and Ulrich. They looked over my way, started laughing, and quickly looked away when they saw me glaring at them. They were still snickering a few minutes later.

That ended my evening. I put my glass down and as I started for the door I noticed that Ulrich had his hands on my wife's ass and she was caressing the back of his neck. Before I knew it she had pulled his head down and gave him a big sloppy kiss right in the middle of the dance floor.

It took me less than five seconds to get across the room, spin Ulrich around, and hit him as hard as I could with a roundhouse right. My hand hurt like hell and the next thing I remembered was waking up in the back of an EMT vehicle. It was only a short ride to the emergency clinic, and I did notice that I was alone in the ambulance.

I remembered being wheeled into the emergency room. The next thing I knew I was waking up in some sort of recovery area. Thirty minutes after recovering, I got a visit from a doctor who gave me an update on my condition. In addition to my broken hand, I had three cracked ribs, a broken nose, three lost teeth, and two that were loose. My jaw was wired shut, and my right kidney was bruised. Ulrich ended it up with a good kick to the testicles, resulting in some damaged blood vessels. The doctor said that I could be released in about four days, but I would have to spend at least two weeks in rehab. If I wanted to, they could arrange for me to have the rehab at home. I selected the other option.

It was well afternoon when my wife and daughters finally showed up. Sarah looked pissed off and the girls looked bored.

No one said anything. Since my jaw was wired up I didn't feel like starting any sort of conversation. I was able to speak, but I didn't want her to know that.

"Well Skip! What do you have to say for yourself?"

I quickly evaluated her attitude and decided that this was a conversation that I did not want to have. Rather than try to answer her, I just mumbled and pointed to my jaw.

We must have sat there for a good minute before she started again. "It was embarrassing, Skip. The girls were so humiliated that we had to leave before New Year's Eve. The whole evening was ruined and for what? I should have known better than to take you out in public. I guarantee that nothing like this will happen again."

She had no idea how right she was.

I just sat and looked at her. I couldn't even manage a smile so I did nothing. They stayed a few more minutes. Since I did not respond in any manner they finally just got up to leave. On the way out, Marci paused and looked over her shoulder. "Thanks for nothing, Dad."

Chuck showed up a couple of hours later. We chatted for a few minutes,(yes I could talk) and then he pulled out the local newspaper. I made the front page.

LOCAL NFL HERO PROTECTS WIFE AND DAUGHTERS FROM ABUSIVE FATHER!

The attached story went on to explain how I attacked my wife while she was dancing at the Gilbert Endeavors annual NewYears eve party. Terry Ulrich rushed in and subdued me until officials could take me away.

Not exactly how I remembered it, but that's the story that people will believe.

Chuck and I talked for a couple of hours and discussed a few options. After he left I opted out of supper and requested a sleeping pill. I needed a nice long rest.

I spent most of the next day being tested, probed, and poked. All the damages had been detected and acted upon. All I had to now was wait and heal. One of the hospital staff gave me a list of recommended rehab facilities in the area. I selected one just outside of Hamburg.

Chuck showed up later that evening. I sold him my share of the company for $2500. Of course, the handshake part of the sales deal was what was important. I was still part-owner, but not on paper. All good things in time. We got a good laugh out of the fact that one week at rehab costs $2500.

Sarah and the girls did not see me at the hospital again. They did come back a day after I relocated to the rehab facility, and, as I understand it, were highly pissed off that they had not been notified. They were really pissed off when they came to rehab and were denied access. It seems that I was able to indicate who could and could not visit when I signed in. One of the orderlies let me know that they attempted to see me. My ribs hurt like hell when I laughed.

The worst part of my injuries was dental work. Luckily they had a dentist that was available to do on-site work; at a cost. I opted to take advantage of it. The injury to my hand was not as bad as they originally thought. Although it was possible for me to get out of rehab a bit early I decided to stay the full two weeks. After ten days I was able to breathe fully again. That felt good.

Sarah never tried to visit again.

The second weekend in February, the National Crossfit Expo was held in Atlantic City. Sarah and the girls attended with Terry Ulrich and the GE marketing team. Chuck and a few of our employees spent the weekend moving my clothing and stuff to the bungalow in Schuylkill County. He made sure to get my Marlin and all of my reloading supplies. Two days later I was comfortably settled in my new abode. That weekend Chuck and his wife, June, came for a visit. It seems that Sarah how been to the office looking for me. There had been no bank deposits made to the joint account since the first of the year and Sarah wanted an explanation. Chuck spent a half-hour trying to explain to her that not only did I no longer own part of the company, but I also didn't even work there. In frustration, she stormed out threatening to see a lawyer.

After a couple of weeks, I was functioning pretty well. The jaw situation was not near as bad as they originally thought, so I was back to normal eating and drinking in a couple of days. My dental problem was fixed and I decided to leave my broken nose alone. I needed the small bit of character that it added. The other bruises and pains were healing normally. I did my therapy and exercised as directed.

Chuck left me with one of the company trucks and a credit card. I also took a large amount of cash with me in case I needed it. I left my phone with Chuck. The bungalow was comfortable, but it was only temporary. I was doing a good bit of walking and started jogging at a leisurely pace.

Terry Ulrich had a large house on Duryea Dr just outside of town. It was a long winding road going up Mount Penn. There were not a lot of homes there, because it was difficult to build on the steep mountainside. The house was not hard to locate and I was able to find several nice secluded, vantage points. I would not be a quiet cuck.

I spend my mornings exercising and getting fit. My afternoons were reserved for target practice. It was a good year for the groundhogs, but I gave them a pass and concentrated on inanimate targets. My Bushnell Laser Range Finder indicated that I needed to be accurate at 133 yards. I would be ready when I could consistently take out an egg at that distance. I bought a lot of eggs. I bought a suppressor.

I spend my evenings planning, adapting, and reloading. I limited myself to one Black and Tan a day. I started growing a beard.

Chuck was coming up to see me every two weeks or so. Sarah had stopped by the office several times, still trying to locate me. After two months she gave it up. Chuck always brought several newspaper clippings along. It appears that my wife and daughters were continuing to enjoy the high life with their new benefactor. He had to be completely supporting her by now because I was contributing nothing. Oddly, Sarah and the girls were still living in our old house, which I did not understand.

It was time to move things along. I started driving back to the city early in the mornings so that I could pick out a good vantage point to observe Terry's house. Parking was a pain in the butt, so I ended up having to hike a bit.

He was a creature of habit. I had never expected such a big guy to be a swimmer, but he did fifty laps every morning. Naturally, the pool was heated.

That weekend I made a trip to Potter county. Relocating from the bungalow to the cabin would be quite an adjustment. No electricity, no running water, and no cell phone signal. It was a forty-five-minute drive to the nearest Walmart in Olean, New York. I didn't want to make the drive in the wintertime so I stocked up on everything I would need for the next four months at least. If I forgot anything or needed something that I hadn't thought of, I could get it before any bad weather closed me in.

Early Wednesday morning I drove to the office and moved all my items from the truck to my Subaru Outback. I parked the company truck at a construction site at the base of the mountain and hiked up to my selected vantage point. There was no other traffic at that time of the morning. I set up the tripod and installed the can. I had one in the chamber and one in the tube, with the next two ready. Twenty minutes later, Terry Ulrich came out for his morning swim. The first shot shattered his right ankle. Even with the suppressor, it was loud that early in the morning. Two seconds later, his left knee exploded. I loaded the next two rounds and took out his left elbow. My last designated target was his right wrist, which I could not get a bead on because of his erratic movements, so I gathered up my brass quickly and quietly left. Ten minutes later, I left the construction site and returned to the office and my waiting Subaru.

I didn't go back to the bungalow but drove straight to Potter County. The first order of business was to clear out the spring so that I would have fresh water. Then I had to start getting together a good stockpile of firewood. Luckily the cabin was watertight and well insulated. LED lanterns were a lot better and cheaper than the old coal oil lamps that were there. Soon things were fully under control and I started shooting again; paper targets this time.

I first saw her in the middle of the second week. A tall lanky woman dressed in jeans with a flannel shirt and vest. Although she was far away I could see that she had a pack or something on her back. She passed by on the old logging trail that ran alongside the open area that was used for the shooting range. Six hundred and forty acres and I still had no privacy. Of course, it was far more practical to build the cabin near a road where materials could be brought in. The acreage was for the deer and occasional bear.

One day when I had a chance I put the scope on her. She had a compound crossbow over her shoulder. I had no idea what she was doing with it, but I was interested.

There was a small fire pit/barbeque area at the range, so I started to bring an old galvanized coffee pot and biscuits with me. Yes, I made pretty good biscuits. I felt like I was setting some sort of trap. Three days later my trap worked.

"Excuse me! My name is Claire. I was hoping that we could talk."

She took me by surprise. Not be very socially adept, I sort of stammer a bit. And motioned for her to sit down.

"Would you like some coffee?" That was the best that I could do.

She nodded, smiled, and slid the crossbow off of her shoulder before sitting down.

"My name is Skip. I just got here about two weeks ago. I noticed you in the area several times."

"I am staying at the lodge about a mile down the road. I try and walk every day and I usually end up in this area."

I handed her one of my famous biscuits. (LOL) "Are you staying here long?"

"I'll be here for the rest of the summer. Yourself?" "It's open. Four or five months at least."

She seemed to like my biscuit, but I got the feeling she would have preferred cream and sugar in the coffee. She didn't say anything, I just sort of picked up on it. "Do you own this place?"

"No! It belongs to a friend of mine who lets me use it." We sat quietly for a few moments.

"Do you hunt?"

"No! Not really. I used to do a little varmint shooting, but I haven't done any for years. Just doing a little target shooting now."