GOD LAUGHS LAST, pt. 5

I got an idea. First, I bundled Beanie inside the blankets, like a burrito, then waited until the men’s footsteps pounded up the stairs to kick in the door. Quietly opening the window above the porch roof, I climbed out, hanging onto the window frame, hauling my shaking little girl behind me in the blanket burrito. I hated heights. Hated them with a passion.

Trying not to fall on my head or drop my baby girl, sweat trickled down between my boobs as my damp sneakers slipped and slid over the hot, corrugated metal roof. Scraping chips of paint off the window frame with my nails, I edged toward the support beam that held the roof up at the lake shore side of the porch. I crouched down carefully and gripped the wooden post. Slinging Beanie over my shoulder in her padded bag, I slid down the rough timber. Slivers tore through my jeans and bare ankles. But we made it.

Beanie had never felt lighter in my arms than when I raced to the driveway, hoping to get a head start on our pursuers. I gently buckled her in the back seat and revved the engine, as much as an old relic like this could rev. By the time we pulled onto the road, the men had figured out my ruse and almost collided, as they rushed onto the porch to see us drive away.

I didn’t see their truck, so we might just get away this time, I thought, pushing my foot right to the floor of the old van. That’s when I heard it. The thud and scrape of something dragging under the vehicle. Shit. Shit. Shit. No. Not now!

We made it twenty yards before our last, pitiful chance to escape died on the road. Oh, God. Please hurry. Please hurry! I sent a silent plea for my friends to speed it up. Locking all the doors, I climbed into the back with Beanie and called 911 once more begging for assistance, getting no more help than the last time I called.

Looking around for a tire iron, or wrench; something, anything to protect ourselves with, I realized that anything heavy enough to swing at the men could easily be grabbed and used on us. Not wanting to give them any more ideas I tried to think outside the box…or inside the tub. The bee spray! It sprayed up to ten feet and they’d be incapacitated long enough for my friends to show. Hopefully.

Prying off the plastic lid, I pawed through the cleaning supplies and found the bug spray. Then I lined up an entire arsenal of cleaning products on the back seat in case the poison didn’t work. The windows were old-fashioned and rolled down, so I took my position, with Beanie silently watching every move I made. Her color was coming back and she seemed to be alert.

They must have thought this was their lucky day. Let’s see how they feel after a face full of insect nerve poison. I waited fearfully, unsure if the bug spray would work. The big red-headed guy reached me first and I let loose a careful spray right at his face, hoping there was enough left for attacker two, who was at his heels.

“Jesus, shit, fuck! What the hell?” Red shouted, gagging and spitting up excess saliva that was running down his beard as a reaction to the poison.

His eyes were swollen shut within seconds and his nose turned red. I prepared to squirt the dark-haired man, taking aim and waiting for him to come out from behind his friend. That did not happen. Instead, he turned tail and ran down the road, leaving his friend at the mercy of my bug spray.

Thank God! Now, all we had to do was wait for our cavalry to arrive. We were safe. Mr. Red wasn’t going anywhere. He couldn’t even see and he was vomiting on the pavement and rolling around. I didn’t feel bad for him. He brought this on himself by attacking my daughter. Fuck him. At that moment I hoped he would die like a dog on the side of the road.

Basking in the glory of my victory, I was startled by the sound of their big truck barreling down the road. Oh, no! He wasn’t done. The dark-haired guy stopped and dragged his partner into the truck, which was no mean feat. I watched him pouring water from a bottle over his friend’s face and slapping him to get a response.

The dark-haired guy pulled to my side window and smiled at me with cold eyes. “Hey, girls! A little car trouble? Can I help you?”

Before I got a good shot of bug spray into his window he closed it, laughing. Then, he drove around behind us and began pushing us down the road toward the cottage. I hopped into the driver’s seat, hoping to control the direction. But without the engine working there was no power steering.

We were at his mercy and ended up closer to the water than I wanted. With a mighty shove from his big truck, we rolled helplessly over the weeds and mud near the dock and the water rose around the engine-heavy front end. Deeper and deeper he pushed us until his own vehicle was almost submerged. The water swirled around our windows, which I closed quickly.

“Mommy! Mommy! Are we going to die?” Beanie screamed as she climbed over the seat and huddled in my lap.

“No, No, Baby. We’re going to be saved. Jeff and Mike are coming to help us,” I whispered, more for myself than her.

Please Lord, please send help. Beanie is too little for this. Please, God. I prayed in my head; the first prayer since Frank left us on our own to struggle and I had blamed a blind and deaf God every day. Please, God, don’t be blind today. At least save Beanie.