The House Pt. 02

I decided I wanted to talk to Grace. We weren't friends, yet - but she was the one who wanted me in the house. She must have a big, big heart. She had "my man" and I don't feel badly. I threw my man away - and of all the major mistakes I made, I think throwing him away was not one of them.

He is stability and I want a bit of a loose cannon. He is unconditional love and I want someone who'll swat me when I get out of line. He is impossible to dislike and maybe I'm nuts, but I think that is what led me to be so stupid. Don is the kind of person who would have done anything I asked - had I asked. I didn't explain my needs and he, in turn, didn't meet them.

I hit #1 on my speed dial. "Hello, Elaine. What's up?"

"Don, I need to talk to Grace. I wanted to talk to you first. She has shown me she cares about me, and I need a woman's perspective. I will tell her to share everything with you. Is it okay with you if I talk to her?"

"Sure." He said, like it was not worth thinking about. "Grace, Elaine is on my phone." I heard him say, then he spoke into the phone, again. "She was in the other room. Here she is."

"Elaine? What can I do?"

"Grace, I have a big favor to ask. Maybe we can get together and really talk about it."

"Sure? Pardon me, you'll admit this is a bit strange."

"Yeah, I know. But you are the one who made sure I got in the house. You are as close to a friend as anyone I know. All my prior friends are on the wrong side of the law or wonder why I ran around on my husband. You know me and are on my side, anyway."

There was an uncomfortable pause. "I'm sorry. I'm not being very reassuring. Let me be frank. I am on your side, and I am afraid for you. That makes me fear for Don's boys - and they are nearly the most important people in my life."

"You were the right person to call. You have even anticipated the topic. I want to think about every possible approach I can take with Henry. He is not going to go gently into that sweet night. In fact, I am nearly positive he wants to send me into the dark - either as a hooker again, or as a recently deceased hooker."

"How bad a man is Henry?"

"Good question, Grace. I think I can describe him. He has a friend, from his past. The friend is in the drug trade. He supplies Henry, outside his normal network. I think somehow it saves both of them some money and they think it is safer. So, Henry is alone. He makes his own decisions and answers to no one for them."

"Can we talk at your house?"

"Sure. Why?"

"Elaine, I want nothing to do with Henry. Maybe it is too much cloak and dagger. But I can get an Uber and appear at your house, wearing a wig."

"When can you show up?"

"I have a bad week. How about some time Saturday morning?"

"Nine AM, I'll make brunch." We disconnected.

October 28

I had coffee brewed, the makings for Denver omelets, and cut, fresh fruit in a bowl. At 9:00 on the nose a nondescript auto pulled in the driveway and a short-haired brunette, in baggy clothing got out. A moment later, the doorbell rang.

I decided she looked seasonal, so I said, "Trick or treat! I wish I had a mask, or cat suit, or something. I feel out of place meeting you as me. Welcome!"

Grace laughed. "You want to know what Don said? What if Henry were to pay a visit right now? What good did all of this do?"

"He can't get to two of us fast enough to not be identified in a 911 call."

"That's what I said, too. Well, here I am. What's on your mind?"

"Let's sit down for a while. Then, its fruit and omelets." We sat on the sofa. "Henry called twice this week. The two calls were nearly identical. He wants us to get together. I refuse. He sounds disappointed - which is just short of a threat."

"Tell me what you think he wants."

"I think he wants me back and will continue to intimidate me until I am so upset, I need the drugs, again."

"You think he will try to hurt you if you don't go back?" Grace had genuine concern on her face.

"This is just a guess. I think he will keep pushing until he wins. If I try to stop him, then he'll see me as a threat and come after me."

"You can't win in that scenario."

"That's why I wanted to talk to you. I am trying to figure a way that doesn't end with me deciding he's keeping the boys away from me anyway - I might as well do what he wants."

"Surely, he'll give up."

"Grace, I wish it was difficult for him to keep the pressure up. But it's a two-minute phone call, once or twice a week."

"Then, its psychology. If you are timid, he'll pour it on. If you are aggressive, he'll get all macho. Stay calm. I think your chance lies in being calm and hope he loses interest."

"Let's eat. Maybe food will give us an idea." I got up to cook the omelets.

We ate and talked and laughed. We had no new ideas.

November 7

I stayed calm when Henry called. He kept calling.

The calls were wearing me down. What weighed the most heavily was the fact it was all my fault. I sought Henry out. It is one thing to know what is going on - harder to live it and not just give in. I was nearing depression.

My cell rang, it was Grace. "Grace! Oh my gosh. I am so glad you called."

"I think by the time we're through, you may be beyond glad."

"That sounds wonderful. What's up?"

"I had lunch today with my counterpart in the substance use disorder lab. He was all down in the mouth because a key player just had to be let go. I don't know much about that group, it was small for years, but has grown in the last year or so, he said."

"Unfortunately, misuse of substances is something I know a lot about."

"True that. But not unfortunate, as it turns out."

"Wouldn't that be nice. I was sitting here nearing despondency because of my choices getting into drugs. How might it be a good thing?"

"Our company is doing research on drugs which may help end addiction. But the thinking is it will be more than some prescription. It will take behavior changes and they have employed three different past users to develop strategies to help addicts. Trouble is all three have fallen back and are using, again. He has had to dismiss every one of them."

"I would love to get involved in a project like that."

"You have an interview. All you must do is call and set it up."

"What does it pay? Do you know?"

"I do. It starts as Tech-8, which pays a minimum of 96k per year. If you accept, they will pay for you to get a master's degree and your pay will go up another 20%, with many opportunities from there."

"Holy shit! I would nearly double what I am making now, in a couple of years. Who do I call?" She gave me the particulars and told me she had promised I would not fall back. If I could convince them of that, I would be hired.

What would this mean to Henry? My fear is he would see it as a move away from him. I don't think he'll like that. The other bad part of it is if the company wants me to contact users I know - many get their drugs through Henry. He absolutely won't tolerate that.

But it is a move. Henry won't know I am changing jobs, and I can leave word here not to tell people where I have gone. Maybe Henry will lose track of me. Maybe pigs will fly.

November 17

I just completed my first week in my new job. It is a dream come true. There is still no proof, or way to prove, that my home has something to do with that - but the circumstantial evidence is overwhelming.

There is a downside. Henry must be some kind of psychic. He called Monday and figured out from my voice; something was different. He asked what and I told him nothing. He wormed out of me I changed jobs and when I would not tell him what the new job was - he got suspicious.

I turned into the housing development where I live a little after 5:00pm. It was nearing sunset. I swore I saw a car following me - but there was nothing as I turned onto my street and then into my driveway.

I was in the house. I made sure every door was double-locked and all the windows were closed and locked. I have an alarm system which can be set for when I am home. I turned it on.

I looked in the frig and found a couple things to mince on. I ate, drank a Dr Pepper and paced. I'd been home more than an hour and I looked outside. It was dark. The moon was nowhere in sight. I turned on my outside lights, wishing I had more.

Something is wrong. I feel it.

I turned off all the lights in the house. I sat against the island between the kitchen and family room and looked at the back windows. I could kinda see through them. I wondered if kinda was enough.

Bright lights appeared on both sides and in the back of my yard. I heard shouting. Then more shouting. Then, all hell broke loose. It sounded like gunshots, lots of them. It was over in a minute. The lights moved quickly toward the house. I called 9-1-1.

"This is 9-1-1, state the nature of your emergency."

"People are shooting guns in my back yard. Henry Marten is trying to kill me."

"What is your address?"

I gave them the address and there was a pause for no more than 20 seconds. The operator returned. "The police are on the scene. They confirm shots fired. They have ended the threat. Please stay in the house. They are making sure the downed shooter was alone."

"How are the police here?"

"They responded to your earlier 9-1-1 call."

"I made no other call."

<<<<>>>>

If you have ever passed time sitting on a tile floor in total darkness, you know time passes slowly. The doorbell rang, I looked at my phone - 12:13 AM. I walked to the front door and shouted through it - "who is there?"

"Police Ma'am. We'll take a step back, look out a window to confirm it is us. I did. There were four officers in uniforms. There was also a BIG dog on a leash, sniffing around. The dog's handler was not in uniform. Further out on the street there were at least three police cars with lights flashing. I decided I could open the door.

I turned on every light I could get at from the foyer and opened the door.

"Are you under any duress?"

"No, you seem to have taken care of that. Please, come in."

All four filed in with guns in hand. They asked permission to make sure I was alone, which I readily granted. In a couple of minutes, they came back to the family room, which was now cheerfully lit.

"Ma'am, we were investigating a traffic accident a block and a half from here. The neighbors who share your back yard saw our lights and started looking around. When they looked out the back window, you turned on outside lights and they saw an armed man. They called 9-1-1.

"We approached your backyard from three directions, shined our lights on a man in a hoody, and demanded he drop his weapon. He chose to wheel around and shoot toward the back of your lot. He was fatally wounded.

"Your 9-1-1 call followed saying a Henry Marten was trying to kill you. May I ask, why would the late Mr. Marten want to kill you?"

"I don't know, exactly, but I can give you a good idea. About a year ago, I was looking for a wilder life. I found Henry and he introduced me to drugs. He became my supplier. Late this summer I started getting out. I was in a rehab program and got clean by mid-October. Since I got out of rehab, Henry has called me a couple of times a week, trying to get me back on drugs."

"Why tonight? What changed?"

"That is what I am not sure about. I started a new job Monday. I am working at the Labs looking for ways to help addicts get over addiction. But I refused to tell Henry where I worked or what I was doing."

"Do you think he found out?"

"I think tonight says he did. But that's a guess."

We didn't talk much longer. I gave them my phone number and permission to look at my calls since leaving rehab. I told them they would find multiple calls to Don and Grace and explained those relationships.

They assured me unless they found evidence that I was running drugs on the phone, I wouldn't hear from them again.

November 18

I got up at 6:30, still tired, but I had things to do. I drank two cups of coffee and then called Grace.

"Hi Elaine. Early for a Saturday." She said, but cheerfully.

"I wanted to get ahold of you before the police do."

"The police?" She showed genuine concern.

"They were here last night. Henry was trying to break in, with a gun. They shot him, dead."

"And you're okay? Right?"

"Grace, it was a miracle, or the house. The police were investigating an accident a block from my house. My neighbors looked outside just as I turned the outside lights on. They saw Henry, gun in hand and called 9-1-1. The police ran to the scene, Henry must have panicked and shot at them - his last mistake, ever."

"A human being is dead - and all I can think to say is - wonderful!"

I laughed along with her. "The main reason for my call is I know you are planning on Thanksgiving for just the four of you. Could we make it here? Four the five of us?"

"I'll check with Don, but I think yes. We just talked about this last night. A great divorce would be one where the exes learn to be friends and the children benefit from that maturity. Don is not up, I'll give him a minute and we'll call you right back. We have planning to do."

Who would believe it? So little time and so much change.

End note

I wanted to have Henry's end be from a lightning strike. When I wrote it that way, it seemed too much of a stretch - for mythical aliens. I wanted this story to convey that people can accomplish much when they decide to get on with it and do it.

Many of these stories are about characters tied to the grief of a lost life. Too often we feel bound by our past. Wouldn't it be nice if we could let that pain go and just move forward.