Baby Browning

BABY BROWNING

(A brief, violent tale.)

I came home at eleven am because the A/C in my building went down. I bike back and forth the four miles to work usually. I did that on this day. So...a silent approach to my house. Not that I was trying for that.

I rolled into the back yard, as usual - just earlier. My wife Nell was sitting on the patio in a shift dress, bare footed. Not unusual. Our neighbor Blake Downing was also on our patio, in a pair of gym shorts and a tight-fitting muscle T-shirt. That was unusual. They both had a beer on the table in front of them. They were next to each other in the double swing. Barely room for both.

When I saw them, they were facing each other, and his hand was on her shoulder. They didn't notice me for maybe three seconds. I didn't stop where I usually put the bike. I rolled right up onto the patio. They noticed me then.

Nell looked abashed and said, "Bobby?"

Blake quickly jumped off the swing. He had a look of concern.

Blake is an imposing person. He's 6'4" tall and built. He had red hair, until he lost a lot of it and started shaving his head. He was forty-two and had retired from pro football for some years, due to a busted knee. Scars could be seen on his left leg. He moved into our neighborhood the year before and began teaching a self-defense class at our local YMCA. I'd watched some of those, but didn't participate. I had my own training in hand to hand combat some years before. Now, at forty, I still practiced at that. Blake's teaching style didn't appeal to me because he was a bit self-aggrandizing in the classes. He did one for men, two for women and one mixed. Nell took the women's class.

She asked me if I wanted to do the mixed one with her. But I declined. I did that mainly because it occurred to me that I could possibly take Blake down, even though I was four inches shorter and thirty-five pounds lighter. He would see that quickly. And, because there would be women present, he'd likely react. An actual fight could easily have happened. And I was not at all sure who would do what to whom.

The upshot of all that was that I kept going further away to my normal venue.

But now, here he was.

I said, "Maybe you could get me a beer. I'll be right down." I leaned the bike on a tree and jogged past both of them, inside and upstairs. I went directly to my small closet gun safe and took out my Baby Browning.25 semi-automatic pistol. I loaded it, with one in the chamber. I put on a new pair of shorts and a loose, long t-shirt. I stuck the gun in my side pocket and jogged back down.

The two of them were now sitting across from each other, with Nell still on the double swing. I saw a third beer on the table. An unopened can.

I didn't sit. The two of them were still not comfortable. I said, "The office A/C went down." That's all I said. Over the years, I've found that it's best to let others start a conversation that could be uncomfortable.

So, I looked at each of them. For a considerable time, neither spoke. They were in a dilemma, I perceived. They could choose to address the elephant in the room - that they seemed to be making out when I arrived. Or they could brazen it through and try ignoring the matter.

Finally, Nell said, "We were just talking about the self-defense class, Bobby."

I said, "Oh, 'cause it seemed to me that a lot more was happening. Or going to happen. What do you say, Blake?"

He paused. He said, "I think maybe I should go."

"Why were you here in the first place, Blake?"

He said, "I don't want to get into this, Bob."

"Well, I guess that says it all. Doesn't it, Nell? Your boyfriend here doesn't want to discuss what was happening when I came home."

She looked down. She said, "He's not my boyfriend, Bobby. He's not!"

"You were just about to kiss him when I rode in. I saw what I saw. No use to deny it. So maybe I need some explanation."

Blake got riled up. He spat out, "So what if we were gonna kiss? She wanted it and so did I."

I looked at Nell. "True?"

"Yes. I'm sorry. You know, that class. He's so...so..."

Blake said, "So much stronger and bigger than what she's used to having. So, not much you can do about that."

Nell said, "Blake, shut up! We were making a mistake, and now we won't do that."

"Why not? Bobby here won't do shit. None of the husbands do shit. All wimpy cucks."

I wondered briefly how he had lived as long as he had.

I said, "You need to leave right now, Blake."

"I was invited."

"You're disinvited now."

He turned to Nell. "Am I disinvited?"

She said, "Yes. Yes, you're disinvited."

I said, "So, go." I pointed at the gate. He lived just down the street. "And DO NOT come back!"

He was standing about twelve feet away and had to pass me to get to the gate in the yard. I reached into my pocket, but I didn't pull the pistol. I did back up some so he could get by. He hesitated. I could see indecision on his face and in his body language. I took my hand out of my pocket, with the pistol in it - let it dangle by my side.

He stared. He said, "Chickenshit. Pull a gun?"

Nell shouted at him, "Just go, Blake. He WILL SHOOT YOU!"

His face was now as red as his hair used to be.

"He ain't gonna shoot anyone." But he moved toward the gate - a path that took him between me and Nell. When he was close to her, he pulled her up into his arms and tried to kiss her. She screamed and turned away. I fired a shot into the air, which scared the sit out of both of them. He quickly turned, saw me pointing the gun and went toward the gate. But he was swaggering and moving slowly, staring back over his shoulder.

I was tired of all that. Time to get it all over with.

I dropped the magazine out of the gun and jacked the chambered round out. I tossed all that onto the ground behind me. I moved to him, not fast.

He smiled and squared up. Nell was shouting something. Neither of us cared.

I kept walking right at him, hands loose in front. When I was in range, he shot a right hand at my head. It was a quick, hard movement.

But I wasn't there when it was supposed to hit me.

I hit him in the neck, by the carotid artery. It slowed him and stunned him. He wasn't used to an actual fight. I was. I hit him with a left, below his ribs. Then a right to the kidney as he turned away. He went down, yowling. He tried rolling away, but I pursued. As he was getting up. I kicked him in the ass. I thought that an ass kicking was appropriate.

He went back down. But he was pretty tough and resilient. He got up, and I let him do it. He didn't look back as he jogged off. He disappeared around the corner of the house, and I followed, watching him get to the street and turn toward his place. Then I turned around and jogged back to the patio, where Nell was frozen in some odd posture with her right hand at her neck.

I passed her and got my pistol, reloaded it and picked up my expended casing. She turned to watch. I walked back by her, picked up my beer and went into the house for a shower. I figured that she could follow Blake to his house and comfort him, if she really wanted him. When I came out of the shower, she was sitting on our bed. She was masturbating, but she hadn't taken off her loose dress.

I didn't move to her. She continued rubbing herself, opening her legs so I could see. I'm not immune. Far from it. As I was about to toss her down and fuck her hard, I heard a noise. Someone coming up the stairs. I got the.32.

Blake came around the doorframe, pointing a black pistol, holding it sideways like in some movie. I shot him in the head as he fired off a round. It went into the wall at floor level, I later found. He went down for good. There was only a small hole in his bald head. But he was dead.

Nell started screaming. I picked up the land line and dialed 911.

The end.