Sunday, January 11, 2015

Silence At Last

It’s time again for the annual company Christmas party. It’s more like the one day of the year where all the employees have an excuse to get together, get shit-faced and bitch about their patient population. All in good fun I say. Lindsay and I get along great with everyone at the office for the most part. There are those special few that have their moments of course. One of these “special” persons is Christie; a nurse with her head shoved so far up her ass she could eat her lunch for the second time. You know the type. Everything is a catastrophe or a crisis in the making, and her solutions are infallible.

Christie and her husband Johnnie are attending the party together. Lindsay comments, “Welp, I guess Christie found a reason to wear her whore clothes again”. I laugh out loud at the abundance of truth in the statement. She has on a “little black dress” that stops a few inches past her crotch, boobs hanging out and black thigh-high hooker boots. I won’t detail the make-up, but think John Leguizamo in To Wong Foo, Thanks for Everything! Johnnie is a “former” MMA fighter who acts the part to a “T”. Arrogant, large stature, Affliction T-shirt, small dick….you know the type. Lindsay and I watch as the two get completely obliterated and like clockwork begin to argue. That’s our cue.

We head out, praising God that I parked right outside the entry doors. It’s a beautiful 18 degrees outside; frost on the car windows and the wind thankfully non-existent. I get into the driver’s side and start up the car, Lindsay gets in opposite me. I hear a third door shut. I look in the backseat and Christie is sitting behind Lindsay staring at me. “Christie, what the fuck are you doing?” I ask. “This is my car,” she replies, “get out of my car”.

Holy shit, here we go. I look at Lindsay to see if I’m the only one with a “what the hell” look on my face. She stares back, obviously nervous about what’s about to transpire. Just as I’m about to open my door, Christie starts screaming in the backseat; “GET OUT OF MY CAR! GET OUT OF MY CAR! NOW!” My heart rate jumps up, instant anxiety from the high-pitched screaming lunatic in my car. I turn again to open my door and Johnnie is standing in the way.

Christie is still screaming as he begins punching my driver’s side window. Lindsay has begun to cry and I think I’m about to implode. The scene becomes surreal and I begin to calm. Heart rate slows to a resting beat, anxiety has begun to drain out and my mind goes into overdrive. Now mind you, normally I’m the person who would just lock the doors, call the cops, and wait for them to come get these two freaks of nature. Not today though. The mix of Lindsay’s crying, Christie’s screaming and Johnnie’s belligerent punching of my window has forced me into a need of making it stop; and it has to stop now.

There’s a pause long enough in Johnnie’s hits and I shove the door open as hard I can into his gut, knocking the wind out of him and onto the ground. A couple swift kicks to the crotch ensures he’ll stay there long enough for me to get his fucking wife out of my car. I walk around to the back passenger door and swing it open. “Get out of the car Christie” I say in a calm voice, barely heard over the last couple screams. “Get out of the fucking car Christie, now.” She looks up at me with a twisted drunk smile and say, “What are you going to do if I don’t?”

I can hear moaning from Johnnie on the other side of the car. A small moment of panic that he may get up before this is over. While I definitely have adrenaline and soberness on my side for Christie, Johnnie is fucking huge and I like my face just the way it is. “Last chance to get out on you own and then I’m going to remove you from that fucking seat.” A drunken giggle and then warm spit hits my left cheek. I hear Lindsay take in a deep gasp and hold her breath, beginning to turn red as she watches. I reach in and hook my right arm under Christie’s chin and secure the hold with my left hand. Planting one foot in the gutter and one on the sidewalk, her body comes flying out with one hard pull. Still in the headlock, I slam her into the side of car and throw her on the ground. A trickle of blood begins running out of her right nostril.

Years of pent up anger and rage at her, my childhood, life, begins to pour out of me with every kick that makes contact. “WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU?! I TOLD YOU TO GET OUT OF THE CAR YOU STUPID PIECE OF SHIT WHORE!” My ears are ringing and I can feel my head pulsing to my heartbeat. I’ve never been in a fight my entire life, not on the giving end anyways. Tears are rolling down my cheeks as the beating continues. One last kick to the stomach and Christie spews a mix of alcohol and appetizers onto the concrete. I hear my name being screamed from the car. I turn and see Lindsay with a horrified look on her face. No doubt in awe of what she just saw her best friend do to another human being, whore or not. I run to the driver’s side and get in before Johnnie makes it to his knees.

Silence, finally. All I wanted was for the screaming to stop; the crying and the sound of flesh against glass to go away. Only the sounds of the car and the wind now, making my way to Lindsay’s house to take her home. I feel terrible for her having to be there for the ordeal, but was liberated at the same time. A new calm, a better calm, than any drug or amount of therapy could ever give me. There are only a couple more blocks till Lindsay’s turn off. Red, white and blue lights begin flashing in the rear-view mirror. I didn’t think I was speeding and I just replaced the right tail-light.

I pull over and pull out my license and get my proof of insurance from the glove box while rolling down my window with my left hand. I turn to hand the officer my information and his gun is drawn. My eyes widen and I drop my license and insurance. Lindsay’s crying has started up again. “Step out the vehicle please and keep your hands where I can see them.” With my left hand up, I open the door with my right and slowly begin to step out. “You’re under arrest for the murder of Christie McMillan; you have the right to remain silent….”

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