Res Ipsa Loquitur

We rush in to find that someone had broken into the house and kidnapped my daughter's roommate, who was spending Christmas with us. Let's call her JoAnna. Mike & I got everyone calmed down and started searching outside, calling for JoAnna.

I hear a rustling in some bushes by the edge of the yard. Just a little sound, but it shouldn't be there. I hear it again. I signal to Mike, and then say loudly, "I'm going to go into the house to get my shoes, a flashlight and my gun. If you don't return JoAnna unharmed by the time I get back outside, you're gonna find out how incredibly pissed off I'll get having to hunt your sorry ass down at 2 am on Christmas Eve."

I grab my shoes and my .357 S&W revolver. Mike's checking the clip in the Glock .40, and I'm getting extra ammo for my 12 gauge when someone says, "Look! Here they come!" We look out to see a tall figure emerge from the shadows and start walking across the lawn, JoAnna in a chokehold in front of him. We run out, guns in hand.

He stops as we approach, and releases JoAnna. As she runs past me into the house, I tell her to call the police. The guy starts moving slowly towards me. I tell him to Freeze! as I move to keep him in the crossfire between me and Mike.

"Police? Sorry, no police," he says in a beautiful British accent as he raises the gun he's kept hidden in the folds of his black trenchcoat. He leers, "I'm afraid I'll have to ask you to---" I shot him with a .357 hollowpoint, aiming low at his hip, thinking to disable him so we can find out who else is involved. Bad move on my part.

He goes down, but jumps back up and takes off running, Mike's in hot pursuit. I'm struggling to keep up, did he hit me I wonder because I'm having such a hard time running. Mike catches up with him down the street a ways, the guy turns and fires at Mike, missing. Holy shit, I think, stop and fire two more rounds his way. Everything seems to be happening in slow-motion, it's that adrenalin rush thing. It's like being in a car wreck, your brain goes into hyper-drive and your eyes see every detail. I see the bullets miss him by a hair....he moved at just the right time and I'm just a bit too far away.

Damn damn damn I'm thinking as I continue running. I only have 3 shots left and he's still standing. And my shotgun is still back at the house. Mike crouches into a shooter's stance and opens up on him with the .40. The guy jerks with every impact, but still doesn't stay down. I think shit, we're gonna have re-think our ammo loads because this obviously doesn't have enough knock-down power.

I'm almost within range again when I hear doors opening all over the neighborhood. Mike stops firing. The guy whirls and is astonished to see all our neighbors standing outside, guns in hand.

I think to myself "This is Arkansas, sumbitch. We don't put up with punks like you." And I smile. Bad guy goes out in a hail of gunfire.

Then I wake up, gasping for breath like I'd just run a marathon. And I discover that not only did that big slice of Mike's key lime pie I ate right before bed give me extraordinarily vivid dreams, it also gave me really bad heartburn.

Now that that's taken care of, I'm going back to bed to see what happens next. Movies in my head, keeping my brain entertained while the rest of me sleeps.

I love it.