Bandit

I walked back into the living room after I put the trout in the oven and saw her standing by the window looking out at the snow falling on the yard. It had only started an hour ago but there was already an inch or more on the ground. Bandit was leaning against her leg as he sat on the floor at her side. She was absently mindedly scratching his ears as she stared off into space.

"Penny for your thoughts." I said softly.

"Do you know how incredibly lucky you are?" she said after a moment still looking out the window.

"Yes."

"Really?"

"Yes."

"God Almighty, I hope so." she said turning to look at me with tears streaming down both cheeks.

"Wanna talk while we wait for dinner?" I asked sincerely then added, "We've got a few minutes."

"Will it do any good?" she responded almost bitterly.

"Beats the hell outta me, but it's better than standing here watching you drip tears on my dog."

She sniffed, wiped her eyes and then said, "Sam, three hours ago I was in a Wal-Mart parking lot, thinking that tonight might be my last night on Earth because I was going to freeze to death. That shelter you called, I already knew what they were going to say because I had just walked from there when you two showed up and walked past me like I didn't exist. I was doing exactly what you said I was doing, I would warm up and then leave before an employee threw me out."

She paused for a moment as if to steel herself for what she was going to say next, then went on, "I was honestly considering propositioning you or some other single guy, so I would at least have a place to stay tonight. If worse came to worse, I would have had to give a strange man a blow-job for a place to sleep for the night. I was hoping someone would just call the cops though, so I would get arrested for trespassing and have a place to go for a few days. Then you and Bandit walked into my life like avenging angles of God and here I am. I'm wearing clean clothes and for the first time in over two weeks, I've had a hot shower. I'm in a warm house, I have a real bed to sleep in tonight and I'm about to sit down at a table and eat a hot meal. So yes Sam, I honest to God hope you realize how lucky you really are."

I decided right then that if I ever found the asshole who had broken her, I was going to instantly fall back on the training of my former profession and remove them from the face of the planet with extreme prejudice by using superior tactics and overwhelming firepower. Failing that, I would simply go full-on Negan and hammer them into the ground with a barbed wire wrapped baseball bat. As luck would have it, Karma had the same plans.

"Some days are better than others." I said.

"No shit!" she said and then added sniffling, "By the way, I think I broke your dog."

"Why do you say that?" I asked confused.

"Because he won't stop leaning against me."

"Oh! He's letting you know that he senses an anxiety attack coming and he wants you to do something about it. So, find something you can touch, like him for example. Then find something you can see and then find something you can smell and concentrate on those three things until the anxiety eases up. Once it does he will know, and he will back off a little."

"You mean like him, the smell of dinner cooking and the snow falling?"

"Exactly."

That's what I was doing when you came in here."

"Oh. Sorry." I said turning to leave the room.

"No Sam, please, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable, especially in your own home, and I want you to know that I do appreciate everything you've done today. You are the first decent human being I've met in close to three years. I'm really afraid that I'm freezing to death on a park bench out there and this is just my last dream. At least it is a nice one." She said softly stroking Bandit's head.

"You're not freezing to death out there. Now I have a question."

"Sure."

"How old are you?"

"Ancient."

"Seriously."

"Nineteen."

"Seriously."

"Eighteen, nineteen in four months."

"How long have you been on the streets?"

"Two years, it will be three on New Year's Day; exactly."

"I'm not going to ask, but someday, when you feel comfortable enough discussing it, we can talk about why."

"You don't want to know. But now it's my turn. How old are you?"

"Forty-six."

She whistled a low whistle and then smiling said "You must have been a great swimmer back in the day?"

"Why do you say that?"

"How else could you have made it onto the Ark?" she replied laughing.

"Smartass." I responded smiling at her.

"No, seriously, what was Moses really like?" she said grinning at me.

"Go wash the stinky dog smell off your hands, dinner is almost ready."

She smiled at that and walked to the bathroom to wash her hands.

I could tell she was holding back as she ate dinner and I understood why. When you are hungry, really hungry, and you eat too fast, it just comes right back up, so I let her set the pace and told her that I had ice cream for dessert if she wanted any. As soon as we were finished eating she jumped up and started clearing the table. I started to help, and she slapped at my hand telling me, "Go find a football game or something else on TV, the kitchen is mine for the next few days."

Holding my hand to my chest by the wrist and feigning injury, I began to limp into the living room with her shaking her head at me and laughing. It made me feel good that I could make her laugh because God only knows when the last time she had a reason to was.

I had just started watching the original How the Grinch Stole Christmas when she came in and sat down beside me. She laughed and said "Wow, I haven't seen this in ages! I watched it every year as a kid."

"All of us did, even old guys like me." I replied.

"You're not that old."

"Misti, my son is two years older than you and my daughter is two years younger."

"See, you have a kid that is younger than me, so you can't be that old. You've probably got a few more miles left in your tank."

"Thanks for trying to make an old guy feel good." I said looking at her and smiling.

"Your welcome."

"So." she began and then paused.

"So?"

"So, almost three years ago I was living the life of a semi-well-adjusted teenager in Jacksonville, Florida. Until the night that my mother and her boyfriend Carl came back to the apartment after a New Year's Eve party. Mom passed out drunk and Carl decided that he wanted a piece of ass that wasn't comatose under him for the night. He came into my bedroom and started to rape me. I kneed the douchebag in the balls and ran screaming my head off into the hallway."

"You have got to be shitting me!" I said in complete shock.

"Oh, it gets worse, much worse. When the cops showed up, my mother told them, slurring every word mind you, that I was nothing but a two-bit tramp who had given her trouble for years and that she had been making out with her boyfriend when I caught them and went ballistic running into the hallway screaming "Rape!". My own mother lied to protect the man who had just tried to rape me."

She paused for a moment to catch her breath and regain her composure, then added,

"The truth of the matter is that I had, until then anyway, 3.97 GPA and I had never missed a day of high school. Since I had no physical evidence to back up my side of the story, they handed me back to my mother and made the jackass leave. I walked inside waited for her drunk ass to pass out again then I got dressed, grabbed her purse and car keys and I bolted. I got as much money as I could out of her savings account and then drained my bank account over the next two days." She paused and then gulped for air.

"I got as far as Columbia, South Carolina and ditched the car. She was blowing my phone up with text messages and voicemails telling me how sorry she was and begging me to come back home. When I didn't respond to any of them she started getting ugly with me. I started posting screenshots of some of the text messages to my Facebook page so everyone we knew could see what I was going through. The last one I posted was her calling me a lying slut and telling me to stay the fuck away from her boyfriend. I guess she saw my Facebook page because right after that she shut my phone off."

She waited for a moment and then softly added, "Since then, I've been on my own on the streets. I still have the phone if you want to see the messages." she said, nodding toward her bedroom.

I sat there in stunned silence not knowing what to say or how to react. I had decided that the Negan thing was my best bet with the boyfriend, but I had no idea how to deal with her mom. Maybe a barrel of battery acid? I mean Sweet Holy Mary, Mother of God, I had spent six years dreaming and praying that I could spend a single afternoon with my daughter. What that bitch had done to hers was un-fucking-conceivable; I could not begin to comprehend the depths of betrayal that Misti must have felt or must still feel.

"Just, wow! Wow!"

"Yeah so Sam, that is what you have holed up with you for a few days during a mini-blizzard. If you want me to leave now, I understand." she said quickly.

I paused for a minute and said "Nope. You're staying right where you are." Patting her on the knee I added, 'Worse-case scenario is that you kill me in my sleep tonight; best case scenario is that we both get a good night's sleep and you eventually start trusting me enough to let me find you some help to handle all of this."

"I don't think I can trust anyone anymore." She said with tears in her eyes.

I paused for a moment considering what I was about to say to her. If I went through with this, then she would be the first person I had ever confided in this deeply. Once I realized that she probably needed to see it far more than I needed to keep it hidden anymore, I said, "Let me show you something and then you can decide." Then I added quietly, "Come with me."

With Misti following, I walked down the hallway to the third bedroom. I reached up and pulled the key off the top of the doorframe and then unlocked it. I kept that door locked for good reason and when I unlocked it a flood of memories came rushing back to me; some good, some bad and some so horrific that I closed my eyes and paused before I stepped into the room. I called it "The War Room" and I usually kept it locked because I never wanted to see some of the items that were displayed in there ever again.

Every certificate and award that I had ever received from the Army from Basic Training until my retirement ceremony was hanging on the walls. Every medal and ribbon were displayed in a shadow box, from the Meritorious Service Medal I received when I retired, the Bronze Star and Purple Heart I won simultaneously in Iraq on my first tour, down to the UN Medal I had earned in Egypt on a peace keeping tour prior to 9/11; all eighteen of them.

My Brown Round from my days as a Drill Sergeant at Fort Jackson, that damned Black Beret that the Rangers should still rightfully be wearing, and my hat for my Dress Blues were sitting side by side on a credenza along the back wall. All of it; every award, every commendation, every rank insignia, every nightmare, every anguished scream, every time I heard another soldier cry out for his mother just before he died, I tried to keep it all locked away in here. Some days it worked; most nights, it didn't.

Misti walked in and slowly turned around taking it all in. She walked up to a couple of the certificates and paused to read them, taking the longest time at the Bronze Star citation. Then she turned and never having uttered a word, walked back into the hallway. I closed and locked the door again, replaced the key above the door frame and started to walk back to the living room when she reached out and grabbed my hand to stop me.

"I knew you were in the military at some point. I mean, I grew up in Jacksonville, Florida, it's a Navy town so I know the walk and the demeanor that you guys have. But that?" she said softly pointing back toward the room, "Jesus, Sam you're,"

I cut her off.

"Don't say hero. I'm not a hero; I'm a survivor, just like you. I did what I had to do in order to survive in some very bad situations. The difference is, someone in the government said, "Thank you." and gave me a bunch of baubles, bells and whistles to wear around town and impress the local lovelies with. All of that in there and three bucks will get me a cup of coffee at Starbucks." I paused and then added, "You're safe here Misti. I swear to you, on my life, you're safe here." I said it looking directly into her eyes and meaning every word of it.

She stood there silently as tears started streaming down her cheeks. She looked back down at the floor and shaking her head mumbled something that I couldn't quite make out.

"Huh?"

She looked up at me with a half-smile on her face and said, "I said, I was right, you are nuts."

"And I've got a medicine cabinet full of prescription grade medication from the VA to back you up on that theory. That is who you are holed up with in a mini-blizzard for the next few days. Want to start running now?"

"Nah, it's way too cold out there. Besides, you wouldn't let me take Bandit."

At the mention of his name, Bandit nuzzled her hand and then turned back and looked at me as if to say, "Don't blame me Dude, YOU let HER sit in MY seat. Neener, neener."

If you don't believe a dog can say "Neener, neener." with a single glance; you've never owned a German Shepard Dog.

We sat back down on the couch and watched TV for a while longer. At ten or so I told her that I was going to bed but before I could move from the couch Misti said "Sam?"

"What?"

"Please don't read anything into this." Leaning over she softly kissed my cheek and quietly said, "Thank you."

"For what?" I asked, still feeling the warmth of her lips on my skin.

"For all of it. For everything you've done for me today and for everything you did in that room back there. This local lovely is impressed, so thank you."

"You're welcome, but maybe you need to start thinking that you are worth the effort."

She gasped when I said that and then teared up again.

"Good night Misti."

Bandit was sitting on the couch beside her and I looked down at him and said "Bedtime!"

Normally "Bedtime!" would illicit frantic a circle around the living room and a headlong dash to the bedroom, complete with a doggy bouncing competition on the mattress before he settled down and went to sleep. Tonight, was different though. Tonight, he simply lifted his head, cocked it at me and then settled in beside her again.

"That's okay Boy. I understand." then to Misti I added, "Hey, there is a laptop on the desk if you want to check your email or surf the web for a while."

Then I turned and walked to my room. I wasn't worried about Bandit's reaction to all of this. He was a smart enough dog to figure out who needed him more. Who was I to argue?

"Thank you, Sam. I'll see you in the morning." she said softly as I turned to go.

At midnight I woke up and lay there disoriented for a moment wondering where Bandit was, then I remembered. Walking to the door I opened it softly and peered down the hallway. The light was still on in the living room and I could hear the muffled sound of the TV. Before I could close the door, I heard a soft "ruff" sound and Bandit appeared, looking around the corner of the hallway at me; then he turned and disappeared from my view.

Around five or so I woke up again and when I opened the door he was lying beside it curled up. He looked up at me and then slowly got to his feet and tail wagging, walked to the bed. He paused for a moment then returned to look down the hallway before he went back and jumped up. He immediately curled up and dozed back off.

"Yeah, I know Boy. It's been a long night for both of us." The thump of his tail on the mattress told me that he had heard me. I crawled in beside him and drifted off to sleep, staying that way until eight that morning.

I walked into the kitchen to grab a cup of coffee and paused for a minute. It had been six years since I had a woman in the house when I woke up. I swore to myself after my divorce that I wasn't going to put any woman through that kind of strain ever again. The view I had made me begin to think I might have made a grave tactical error with that line of thought. It wasn't erotic, and it wasn't sexy; there wasn't a tee-shirt or button down that covers most guys kitchen fantasies at all. It was, simply put, nice to look at.

Misti was standing by the stove and I could tell from the smell that she was frying bacon. She was wearing the gown and robe that I had bought her yesterday. Her hair was down and loose and she was wearing a pair of socks on her feet. Had I been twenty years younger, the promise of sex being off the table might have been stretched to the breaking point. But I was probably older than that bitch who had given birth to her and there was no way I was going to betray what little trust she had in me on a whim. So, I walked to the coffee pot and poured a cup of coffee.

"Good morning boys!" she said smiling sweetly over her shoulder when she heard Bandit's nails clicking on the hardwood flooring.

"Uh huh, yeah morning."

She laughed and then said, "Not a fan of mornings, are we?"

"I would be if they started at noon." I replied honestly.

"Aww. Well, you go watch the news or something, I'll have breakfast on the table in ten minutes or so, I just put the biscuits in, how do you want your eggs?"

"On a plate and warm, I was in the Army remember? I'm not exactly a picky eater." I said grinning and thinking to myself, "News." That gave me an idea.

I sat down at my laptop and used Google to look up Misti Smothers, Jacksonville, Florida. The hit came back instantly with numerous TV stations and a Jacksonville newspaper covering the story.

There was her picture, or at least a picture of her in her former life. She looked like she was the second sweetest kid that had walked the planet next to my own daughter. She had been listed as a runaway, three months shy of her sixteenth birthday. There had been an altercation between her and her mother's boyfriend and the responding officers could not verify her accusations, so they returned her to her mother's custody. She had then stolen her mother's car and ATM card and a credit card and then drained her mother's savings account of over a thousand dollars. The car was found abandoned in Columbia, South Carolina three days later. Her name was removed from the national runaway data base when she turned eighteen, but the auto theft charge and the theft of the money from the ATM card and credit cards still had active warrants on them and that the FBI was involved because it involved interstate flight to avoid prosecution.

Great. I was harboring a fugitive. Albeit one who was only guilty of saving her own ass, literally, from a derelict mother and her pedophile boyfriend; but still, she was a fugitive. I put the computer on stand-by and then went to the kitchen table.

Sitting down I looked across at her and said "So, I was doing some early morning reading and guess what I found?"

"What?" she responded pausing her fork halfway to her mouth.

"Several stories from about three years ago out of Jacksonville, Florida that validate everything you told me about yourself last night. How does it feel to have someone finally believe you after all this time?"

She dropped her head for a split second and then looked back at me smiling and crying at the same time. "Pretty damn sweet."

"Good, pass the salt please."

Sunday was fun, the snow was only six or so inches deep, but it was still falling, and another four to six inches was expected by morning. It was getting late in the afternoon when I asked if she wanted to finally see the place in the daylight and she said yes; so, we went for a stroll around the property. Not all of it, just enough to check and makes sure that everything was okay. She continually marveled at the beauty of the Blue Ridge Mountains covered in snow when we came to a spot that you could see for a distance.