Chronicle Of A Hero

  I had gone to bed early because the next morning I was going to wake up before noon, for a change.  Not that I really wanted to wake up before noon, but that was beside the point, so down I went.

  My bed was right under the window, so that I could better feel the few cool breezes that grace the hot summer nights.  And to further assist those few cool breezes, I have small oscillating fan on the bed, in front of the window, pulling the air in somewhat effectively.

  So I'm in bed, out from under the covers, wearing nothing but my undies, when to my surprise the next breeze that came through the window was that of someone whispering my name.  At first I thought I was just hearing things so I pushed up off my stomach, leaned on my elbows, and just listened.  I heard my name again from outside.  Crawling closer to the window, I looked out to see, of all people, the girl I had a thing for, but would never tell her about it.  And if that wasn't enough, she was in nothing but her undies.  Now I know what your thinking, that this is going to be another wet fantasy on paper.  Well it's not, although a quick one did go through my mind when I saw her.

  She and I were friends, not really close friends, certainly not as close as I'd like, but we've told each other a few things about ourselves that we wouldn't tell just anyone.

  Anyway, I asked her, "What's wrong?"

  She said, "I need your help.  There're two guys in my house.  They got my parents tied up in the living room."

  "How did you get out?  Did you call the police?"

  "No.  Look, can I borrow some clothes or something?"

  I said, "Oh, yeah, certainly."  Where was my head, duh!  I crawled off the bed and, leaving the light off, so as to not attract attention, grabbed a clean shirt and pair of shorts off the top of the dirty-clothes hamper.  (I kept the dirty clothes on the floor beside the hamper.)  I crawled back across the bed, pushed the fan over, raised the screen, and handed her the clothes.  "You need shoes?"

  "No."

  "Okay.  When you get 'em on, get down where you are, and don't make any noise.  My parents are in the next room," I said pointing to the right, "and my mom's a light sleeper.  I gotta get dressed."

  "Okay, please hurry."

  Now, at that particular moment, I was in a real save-the-day attitude.  I mean, what guy doesn't have at least one macho fantasy about saving his woman's life?  The only problem was that she wasn't my woman, and I didn't know what the hell I was going to do.  And why didn't she call the police?

  This is an observation that I've made since that night: For one to be able to get completely dressed in the dark, on the spur of the moment, one must either have an immaculately clean and organized room, or at least just know where everything is.  Let's just say that there is such a thing as organized chaos.

  Luckily, as I lowered my hand to the hamper to search for clothes, one hand landed first on the familiar elastic waistband of a pair of loose, black jeans.  How convenient.  There was enough light to discern the light shirts from the darker ones so I did manage to get a black shirt.  I did fumble around a bit, but eventually found two socks.  I put on the clothes and my shoes, which also happened to be black, and stood for a second, thinking, is there anything else?  I went to the chest-of-drawers, pulled out the second drawer, in the manner which it must be done so that it does not squeak, and felt for my pair of leather gloves.  And lastly, I grabbed my foot-and-a-half length of mop handle; It's a martial arts thing.  I'm something of an enthusiast.

  I crawled once again across the bed, stuck my head and the stick out the window, and whispered, "Here, take this."  She stood and took the stick.

  "What's this?"  she said.

  "For my own protection," I said.  I then started my careful climb through the window, and after making more noise than I had wanted, I was finally standing outside with her.

  She handed my stick to me and said, "Come on."

  On our way to her house, which was mere blocks away, I asked her, "Why didn't you call the police?"

  "One of them said that if they heard any police or anything that they would kill my parents."

  "What, did they let you go or something?"

  "No.  I was in bed, but wasn't asleep, yet.  I heard a sound like someone trying to get in the living room window."

  "What about your dog?  He'll bark at anything that moves."

  "He's at the vet."  she said.

  "Oh, wonderful."  I said sarcastically.  "Then what?"

  She continued, "When I heard their voices inside, I got down in the corner between the bed and the wall.  They were searching the rooms.  One got my mom and dad out of bed and took 'em to the living room, while another came in my room.  He came in and pulled the bed covers down.  The bed was still made 'cause I've just been sleeping on the top, 'cause of the heat and all.  Anyway, when he left he said that it was another bedroom but that nobody was in there.  He never turned the light on though."

  I told her, "They probably didn't want to attract attention to the house."

  She continued, "The other guy asked if there was anybody else in the house, and my dad said no, but he knew that I was."

  "To keep you unknown," I interrupted.  Smart man, unless she happened to accidentally make herself known.

  "He said there better not be 'cause if there was, and they called the police, that he was gonna kill my parents.  Come on!" She pulled me along.  "Before a neighbor or somebody calls them."

  We did have to duck down a few times, to avoid passing cars, but the conversation continued.

  "So how did you get out?"  I said.

  "When things got a little quiet, I put on my shoes, snuck out the window and ran."

  "Why did you come to me?"

  "You were the closest person I could trust.  Any of the neighbors would have called the police anyway.  But you..."

  I waited for her to say something, but she didn't, so I did.  "But I what?"

  "I don't know.  I just...  I don't know."

  I didn't know what to think of that.  I felt rather special at that moment.  Neither of us said anything else until we reached her house.

  We approached her house cautiously, staying low until we were up against the house, then we made our way to her window.  I told her to go to the other side of the window, to stay there and stay down, and that she did.  I peeked over the window sill and looked inside.  Her door was open, so I could see a dim light coming from the living room, probably a small lamp; nothing that would show outside through the blinds, but enough for them to see by.  I listened carefully, but could barely hear them speaking.  My guess is they're not burglars.  I squatted back down and moved over to her.

  "Do you know what they want?"

  "No"

  Then something just hit me.  "Did you leave the screen up when you left?"

  "Yeah."  Then while staring into nothing, "Oh, shit."

  "Don't worry about it."

  Then whispering a bit louder than I would have preferred, "Don't worry about it?  What if they came in again, saw it up, then killed them for lying?  They could be dead 'cause I didn't put the screen down."

  I put my hand over her mouth, looked her in the eye, and said very carefully, "They haven't killed them.  If they had then they wouldn't still be in there.  They would have known that there was somebody else there who would call the police."

  That last line wasn't exactly the best way to reassure someone, but it was the best I could do at the moment.  I took my hand away and added, "They probably haven't been back to your room yet."

  She looked down and said, "Yeah, you're probably right.  They're still alive."  I thought to myself, boy, she's taking this well.

  I went back to look through the window.  I stuck my head in to get a better listen.  I didn't hear anything at first, then I heard one of them say, "Pour me some more drink."  It sounded like he had food in his mouth.  What are they?  Dining in?

  "I'm going to check outside through that front window again."  Whoops! I guess I can't be right all the time.  Here he comes.  I pulled my head out and backed fast against the wall in a squatting position.

  I could hear my heart in my ears, but luckily it didn't drown out her asking "What?"

  I quickly looked at her putting my finger up to my lips.  I slid along the wall to the other side of the window and stood watching the gaping hole.  I could barely hear him moving inside, but I saw very clearly as he put his gloved hands on the sill, and one of those gloved hands had a gun in it.  Oh, great.  Guns I'm up against.  Just great.  But could I really expect anything less?  Okay, don't panic.

  After he stood there for about fifteen seconds, I figured he wanted to get a real good look so I decided to use it to my advantage.  He never stuck his head out, so if I was quiet, I could make a few limited movements.  I looked at her to see if she was looking at me.  She was, so that saved me from having to get her attention.

  I raised my foot to the center of the wall space under the window and tapped twice very lightly.  Not a sound.  She saw and then looked back at me.  I pointed at her then made a scratching gesture with my fingers and pointed to the spot where I tapped.  She carefully reached across and scratched the wall loud enough for me to hear, and hopefully loud enough for the guy to hear.

  I guess he did, because he put his head and neck out the window and looked down.  He got only a short glimpse because, after dropping the stick, I quickly wrapped my arm around his neck from above, grabbed the wrist of his gun hand, pulled that arm out, and slammed it against the sill causing him to drop the gun.  He couldn't yell out because I had his throat held firm.  He must have been quite shocked because he didn't kick and wiggle about nearly as much as I had feared he might.  I was relieved that the other guy didn't hear.

  After he passed out from lack of oxygen, I let go.  I had pulled him out far enough, during the struggle, that I could leave him hanging over the sill while I moved over to her and said, "Help me get him outside.  Quietly."  When she stood I said, "Hold him under the arms and pull when I say."  It took about a minute, but we eventually got him out with minimal sound.  I was surprised that the other guy hadn't come to check on him by now, but then how do I know how long this guy's lookouts took.

  "What about the gun?"  she said.

  "Don't touch it.  Just forget about it."

  After another minute or so, I had the guy tied up, with his own clothes, to a carport pole that stood not seven feet from the window.  I can come up with some rather creative ways to tie people up, but that's another story.  He was gagged so he couldn't yell out if he came to, still, I told her to stay there and keep an eye on him in case he tried to escape.  "But don't let him know you're there.  If he comes to and does try to escape just knock his head on the pole or something, but don't speak."

  By the way, underwear makes a pretty good blindfold.

  I went back to the window and looked inside to see if all was clear, and after seeing that it was, I heaved myself up and climbed into the house.  I went to the doorway and peeked around the corner.  Both of her parents were bound and gagged, and very much alive, against the wall, and either I was blessed or this guy was an idiot, because he was sitting backward in a wooden chair, and his back was to me.  Highly vulnerable.  Then I noticed that in one hand he held a gun, and in the other was, what else but a half eaten sandwich.  What the hell are these guys doing here?  I was deciding what to do when I remembered something.  I went back to the window, stuck my head out, and asked her to hand the stick to me.  She ran over and picked it up.

  "Did you see my parents?  Are they okay," she asked, handing the stick to me.

  "Yeah, they're fine," I replied, taking the stick.  "Stay out here."

  I went back to the doorway and looked again.  He hadn't moved at all.  Listen guy, your partner hasn't checked back with you in almost five minutes.  My success depends on your idiocies, I admit, but come on.

  I checked everything out.  He sat at the mouth of the hallway and because the lamp was around the corner, one of the hallway walls was totally shadowed.  In a few seconds I had a pretty good plan, so I took a deep breath, got the stick ready: two hands, one palm up, one palm down, gave it a squeeze squeaking my gloves a bit, and quietly walked toward him.

  I stopped right behind him, still in the shadows, and sent one circular end of the stick straight for the base of his skull.  I backed a little further into the shadow and watched him drop to the floor.  Both of her parents were quite surprised.  They didn't see me at all.  Good.

  I crouched down, grabbed the guy by the waist of his jeans, and pulled him to the other end of the hallway.  I took his shirt and pants off of him and worked my creativity again.  Now all I had to do was call the police, but I would have to pass her parents to get to the phone.

  I went back to the bedroom and pulled the comforter off of the bed.  I wrapped the comforter around myself, and with one corner over my head, I was completely covered.  I could smell her on the fabric.  For a moment I didn't want to move.  I just wanted to lay down on her bed, breath her in, and dream.  Unfortunately, I had other things to do.

  I walked passed her parents to the phone, dialed 911, and in a disguised voice I said to send the police, gave them the address, said "two apprehended intruders," then before the operator could say anything, I hung up.  I went back passed her parents, down the hallway, and into her room, threw the comforter back on the bed, and climbed out the window.

  I ran over to the two of them.  He was still out of it.  I had to be quick though.  She stood up.

  "Well?"

  "Everything's fine and I called the police.  Listen very carefully.  When the police question you, tell them you heard people trying to get in, you hid under the bed until it was safe to come out, and you didn't see a thing.  You can make any minor changes that you may need, but that's your story, okay?"

  "Why?"

  "Just trust me, okay?  That's your story, and I'd prefer that you didn't even mention my name for the next two or three days, okay?  Please?"

  "Okay.  Okay."

  "Thank you.  Now go back inside-- nobody saw you out here did they?"

  "No, I don't think so."

  "Good.  Go back in and untie your parents."  I helped her through the window.  She was inside and about to walk away when, Whoops! "My clothes! My clothes!"

  "What?  Oh, yeah."

  She began unclothing herself right before my eyes.  She was moving quickly at first; took the shorts off and practically tossed them at me.  I took them.  Then as she grabbed the bottom of the shirt and was about to pull it up, she noticed me staring.

  I didn't notice me staring until I noticed her noticing me staring.  I looked up into her eyes and thought, uh oh.  She didn't do anything at first, then a second later she smiled a little smile and took off the shirt, kind of shook her hair back into place as she lowered her arms, looked at the shirt while crumpling it into something of a ball, paused, handed it to me and looked at me, still smiling.  I took the shirt and smiled a little back.

  She leaned down until we were face to face and said softly, "Thank you, for everything."

  "You're welcome."  Please kiss me, please kiss me, please kiss me.  Then she backed up and walked away.  Oh well.  I could hear a police siren in the distance so I had to get away fast, but you can bet I'll be coming back in a couple of days, I thought to myself.

  I made my way home avoiding the police and anyone else that happen to be out.  I quietly climbed back through my own window, and everyone was still asleep.  I put the clothes I was carrying and the stick on the bed, lowered the screen, set up the fan, took off my gloves and put them away, put the stick away, and dropped the clothes on the floor by the hamper.  I took off my clothes and dropped them as they came off, and looked at the clock.  Gee, it was only 3:48 in the morning.  So much for turning in early.  But like I said before, oh well.

  I laid down, closed my eyes, tried to feel the cool in the air, and just tried to get to sleep.  Then I opened my eyes and looked over at the shadows that were my dirty clothes.  I scooted over in bed, put one hand on the floor to support myself as I reached over with the other hand and sifted through the clothes until I found the shirt that she wore.  I laid down again, closed my eyes, brought the shirt to my nose, breathed her in, and dreamed.

EPILOGUE

  Three days later I did pay her a visit.  I was just a friend checking up on a friend who had gone through a trying event, at least as far as her parents were concerned.

  We went to her room to talk.  I wanted to find out the status of the whole ordeal.  "So.  Tell me.  What is the situation?"

  "Well, first of all, I'd like to congratulate you."

  "Well...  thanks."  I really am rather modest.  Really.

  "Except for a few problems with the story you gave me, which I managed to remedy, they have an explanation, you're not a part of it, and we were saved by a mysterious hero."

  "Cool.  What problems did the story have?"  I thought I did quite well with the story.  What was wrong with it?

  "It's a good thing I thought about it before the police questioned me.  My footprints were outside the window."

  Whoops.  "What did you tell them?"

  "Instead of saying I hid under the bed, I told them everything I did up to where I was first out of the window.  I said that when I got out of the window I one of the guys inside saw me going out and started coming through the window after me.  Then from out of nowhere, a person all covered in black did pretty much what you did while I stood by in amazement.  Then he went in through the window and I didn't see him again until he came back out the window and ran off down the street.  And you could probably figure the rest out on your own."

  "That was some pretty fast thinking.  I'm impressed."

  She smiled a big, happy, I've-just-been-flattered kind of smile.  "Thank you."

  "And what about the guys?  What were they doing here to start with?"

  "Turns out they had robbed a convenience store; the first time they'd ever robbed anything.  They were on the run from the police until they managed to lose them.  They might have shared a brain cell between them."

  Well, how do you like that?  My victory as a mysterious crime fighter, and over a couple of morons?  Boy, I feel real heroic.  Oh, yeah.

  Well, they did have guns so they were dangerous.  I guess that's not bad for a young first-timer.  Not bad at all.  Now all I have to do is get the girl, and that I already have a head start on.