Messing with the Bull

"Is there some place we can get a cup of coffee?" John asked. Emma told him about the employee break room and he pulled me with him.

"You can't stay with her all day Will. Let's get some coffee and spend a half hour here in the break room. I know Schaffer's type and right now he's either on the phone or in the office of some mover and shaker within the company. He'll pass the problem to someone higher up to cover his own ass."

There was an empty coffee can with a sign that said 'Coffee, 25 cents'. John smiled, put a dollar in the kitty, and poured two cups of coffee. We finished the coffee and went back to say goodbye to Emma.

"Are you sure you want to stay Honey?" I asked her.

Emma nodded emphatically. "I won't let that bastard run me off. I didn't do anything wrong."

I kissed her, John hugged her and we got on the elevator to leave. We hadn't even reached the front door when my cell phone rang. It was Emma. She told me that Mr. Stevens, an executive V.P. was at her desk and Taylor was coming across the room toward her.

I couldn't wait for the elevator to return and ran to the stairs. John tried but he couldn't stop me. I wasn't going to calmly wait for the elevator while Emma was maybe being accosted. Going up four flights of stairs is no picnic even at a walk; at a run it's damn hard. But I made it.

As I stepped into the foyer on the fourth floor, John stepped out of the elevator. I would have gotten there just as quick and not been winded if I'd waited for the elevator. John gave me an evil little "I told you so" grin and we started toward Emma's cubicle.

She was sort of back into a corner with Taylor yelling at her and Stevens standing between them. John saw my reaction and stepped in front of me, blocking my way to Taylor.

Taylor yelled at Emma that she was just a little slut and asked for everything she got. Emma yelled back that he was a liar and that he drugged her. Stevens was trying to get both of them to calm down. As John and I got closer, Taylor saw me.

"Well here's the little husband trying to protect his slut of a wife," he said with a smirk.

I stepped toward him and John actually put both arms around me to restraint me. "Don't be a fool Will. If you attack him you'll go to jail. That's what he wants."

"C'mon little man. Come protect your slut," Taylor yelled at me. I wasn't small at 6' but Taylor had 3 or 4 inches and 30 pounds on me.

"C'mon little man," he repeated. "But remember if you mess with the bull you get the horn."

For some reason his quoting of that old line calmed me down. I pushed John's arms off and looked Taylor in the eye.

"You like to quote what you think are cool sayings you asshole?" I replied. "Well I've got one for you. Be afraid, be very afraid."

"Taylor get back to your office," Stevens ordered. "I don't know about these allegations," he said holding up the complaint we'd given Schaffer, "but you're guilty of bad judgment at the least. Even if you're not guilty of what Mrs. Lennon claims, you should not have become involved with a married co-worker."

As Taylor left, Stevens turned to Emma. "I'm sorry for the unpleasantness Mrs. Lennon. We will investigate your allegations at once. In the mean time may we offer you a week off, with pay of course? The time will not count against your vacation allowance."

"No thank you sir," Emma said. "I've a job to do and I won't let that ...that...man make me go hide like I did something wrong."

I was very proud of my wife at that moment.

Two days later shortly after Emma got home from work the phone rang. It was Stevens. "Do you have a speaker phone or an extension Mr. Lennon? I'd like for both of you to hear the results of our investigation."

"I've put you on speaker Mr. Stevens. Please go ahead," I requested.

"Mrs. Lennon, we can find no proof of your allegations. Our legal team said that the Rohypnol and cocaine in your system could have made you, well, amorous. Most of all there are no witnesses that can collaborate your belief that Adam Taylor drugged you.

"Personally I have no doubt that the events at the company party took place just as you said. However, without solid proof we cannot take action against Mr. Taylor. Because of the involvement between you and Taylor, I've had Taylor reassigned to another department. A letter of reprimand will be entered into his file. Do you have any questions, either of you? If not I'll say good night."

"No, thank you for calling Mr. Stevens," Emma answered. "It was a decent thing for you to call us instead of writing a letter or a memo." She hung up and stared off into space for several seconds.

Turning to me with a small smile she said, "Just like you said Will, but at least he didn't come out of this totally clean." Taking my hand she said, "Let's go to bed and snuggle all night."

I waited for two months before I made a move. Maybe a letter in Taylor's file was the most that the company could legally do but I wasn't about to let it rest there. I had something to put in his file too.

A friend of mine called Taylor and made a late evening appointment to talk business. The appointment was to be at Taylor's office and late enough that everyone would have gone home. Taylor waited for 45 minutes and gave up. As he walked to his car, I stepped out from behind it.

"I remember what you told me Mr. Bull," I said with a grim smile. "Let's see some of that horn you talked about."

Taylor nodded and stepped toward me. I let him throw the first punch.

I'm not a martial arts expert. The only belt I have is used to hold up my pants. No Navy Seal or Force Recon training and I'm not especially muscled. What I am is motivated to get payback for what he did to my wife.

I have to admit, Taylor was no coward or weakling. The first time I knocked him down he got up with a roar and came back at me. By the fourth time I knocked him down, he'd quit roaring and was a little slower getting up. The last time he went down, he was almost out on his feet. I didn't hit him, I just pushed him down. I wanted to hit him but I was having trouble staying upright myself.

When the fight was over Taylor was on his back, lying on the ground. The only reason I wasn't with him is that I grabbed onto the fender of his car to hold myself up. Looking at Taylor it was obvious that his nose was broken. He would never have the same smile unless he had a lot of dental work. I thought the cuts on his face will heal without scaring but then again I didn't care.

I didn't come away unmarked. My smile wouldn't be the same either, at least for a while. I was sure I had at least one cracked rib from Taylor's kicks and I had a cut over one eye that would probably leave a scar. Just like John's, I thought. Both of my hands were cut, bleeding, and beginning to swell. The right one hurt like hell and I hoped I hadn't broken it on Taylor's face.

"Taylor, can you hear me?" I asked as I knelt down beside him. I almost fell on top of him but steadied myself. When he didn't answer I grabbed his hair and pulled his head up. "You hear me Taylor?" I asked again.

"Yeah, I hear you," he moaned through his mashed and cut lips.

"If you call the cops I'll be back. I'll go to jail for a few months, but I'll be back. They'll probably give me a year, considering the circumstances. With good behavior I'll get out in six months and I'll be back. You hear me Taylor?"

He moaned and just nodded this time. "Just remember Taylor, if I go to jail, I'll be back. And what I do then will make this seem like a lover's quarrel. Be afraid, be very afraid."

I forced myself to my feet and marched off to my car. Actually it was more like I staggered to my car, stopping several times so I wouldn't pass out.

When I got home, Emma didn't know whether to laugh or cry. She was worried because I was hurt but she was proud of me for standing up for her.

Over the next few days I began to heal and waited for the police to come for me. They never did. I guess Taylor decided he didn't want any more of this little man.

Strange thing, according to the reports at his job he'd been mugged by two men. A month or so later he requested and got a transfer to a different office in another state. He must not like the climate in our area any longer.

Emma and I are both good. My "battle scars" have healed and so have Emma's.

So...if you mess with the bull you may get the horn but this time the matador had the final word.