Just My Luck

"Why would he have one of my pistols in his hand?" I asked myself. "He can't fire it!" Then I asked myself "Did I ever tell him that they were smart pistols that required my thumbprint on the grip to be fired?" I couldn't remember. "Sadly, I may find out," I thought as I swallowed hard.

I again quickly glanced out the door and saw that Dirk had fully entered the other room. I exited the room that I was in and dashed toward the back stairwell. I was in such a hurry that I knocked a sconce off the wall and it crashed to the floor. I knew that Dirk would be on my heels.

I ran down the back stairs as fast as I could trying to think of what to do next. There was no way that unarmed even on my best day that I could fight Dirk when he was armed with that fucking dagger, which he obviously knew how to use. Now with a pronounced baby bump I had an even worse chance, and the thought of my baby being killed along with me was petrifying. Getting a knife out of the kitchen really wouldn't help so I concluded that my best option was to sprint to the landscaping shed about forty yards back of the rear door and maybe find a suitable weapon there.

As I ran from the back door, I was only a couple of feet from the shed when I heard Dirk laughing a creepy laugh, and heard the house's rear door slam shut. As soon as I got into the shed I looked around for a weapon. The device in the shed that looked most feasible as a weapon was an almost new short-handled ax with a fiberglass handle and gleaming blade that my part-time gardener had purchased and which was hanging on the east wall. I grabbed it, put it behind my back holding it with both hands, and backed my ass up against the north wall.

As I leaned against the north wall, I swear that I heard my baby's heart beating as loudly as mine was. The aberrant rhythm seemed to chant "save...me...mommy; rescue...me...mommy; stop...the...madman."

It seemed like a terrifying lifetime before Dirk, with a diabolical smile on his face, opened the shed door, causing my entire body to stiffen. "Why would you run from your loving husband, Denise?" he cackled in the terrifying falsetto version of his voice. "Surely you don't think that I would kill you and our baby with my favorite toy," he continued, holding up the push dagger.

"Neal, you're not well," I was able to blurt out. "I know about your stay in Pilgrim Psychiatric Hospital; I can get you help. The serial killer Dirk is not really you -- it's some skitso alternate personality."

Dirk's smile turned into a sneer. "What the fuck do you know about who's mentally ill and who's sane. Maybe you're the one dealing in alternate realities," he barked. That comment was followed by something even more chilling; nonsensical ranting.

In response to his rants and waving the push dagger I kept on yelling "You can't kill our baby; you can't kill our baby!"

Dirk stopped ranting and the diabolical smile returned to his face. "No worries, dear; I'll cut the baby from your belly after I kill you and it will be just fine," he said, demonstrating exactly how deranged he was.

After he said that he took one step toward me with the push dagger leading the way. I quickly brought the ax from behind my back, and holding it over my head while I screamed I lurched forward. That took him by surprise and I could see him pulling the trigger on my smart pistol in his left hand; but obviously it didn't fire. With all the force that I could muster I swung the ax blade toward his skull...

***************

When I woke up in the hospital the last thing that I remembered was swinging the ax; I must have passed out, or repressed any memory of what happened next. When I woke, I was told that I had been traumatized and was babbling when I had arrived at the hospital so the doctors put me in a medically-induced coma for the past few weeks, giving my baby time to grow in my belly until it was 28 weeks old so as to maximize its chances of being healthy when I delivered in case some medical issue arose.

When I awoke, I was told that dozens of people were anxious to see me. I cleared only my mother, Joe Friday, and Bill Kurtz. Bill and Joe saw me two days later and brought me up to speed.

"We established beyond any doubt whatsoever that Neal was Dirk -- not that that surprises you," Kurtz told me. "The mayor is anxious to give you the key to the city," he continued.

"For killing my husband?" I sneered; "that's not ever going to happen."

I was discharged from the hospital the next day with instructions to talk to my OB/GYN at least every other day until I delivered. Obviously, I immediately went on maternity leave.

**************

Roughly six weeks after my discharge from the hospital I was back, this time for a pleasant reason. I delivered a perfect beautiful baby girl the next morning. As she appeared to be staring into my eyes while she sucked on my left nipple I whispered to her "I hope that you didn't inherit your father's mental condition;" then after a pause I continued "and please, please, be a better judge of potential husbands than your mother is!"