*Gun Power And Lead*

 It took four cops to get him off her this time.

“Lady, you gonna file charges yet or are we gonna see you dead next time?” Officer Franklin snarled, his menacing scowl reminiscent of her husband’s.

Still dazed and hurting all over, she barely knew what was happening. She raised a shaky hand to her scalp. Blood, thick and pasted onto her pale blonde tresses came away on her fingers. Had they not shown up she might be heading to the morgue. Good thing she had sense enough to know it was coming this time. She called the police preemptively saying there was an intruder before he made it in the house and started smacking her around. They took their damn sweet time. Just another “disturbance” at the Jonas’. Domestic violence gets no respect nor do those who live with it.

Much to her own surprise, she said in a tremulous, almost inaudible voice, “Yes, I am. This has to stop.”

“Stop?” Cletis shouted, incredulous. He strained against the two men holding him back, hands cuffed behind him. “Oh, this will stop soon as I get back, you bitch! You can count on it.”

“Ma’am, you should let us take you to the hospital. You don’t look so good. You might need stitches,” a kindly officer  who’d never been there before, said as the others took Cletis out still screaming obscenities and threats.

She shook her head and instantly wished she hadn’t. She nearly fainted. He grabbed her before she fell and helped her to a seat on the couch. He knelt beside her still holding her hand. “Please, Miranda, let me help you. This shouldn’t happen to such a nice girl,” he whispered.

She stared at him, but he was slightly blurred. He looked vaguely familiar. “Jimmy Harold? From high school?” she asked.

He smiled. “Yeah, you finally noticed me.”

Yes, she remembered perfectly now. Jimmy Harold had been a geeky kid, scrawny and bookish. He always went out of his way to say hello to her and help her with any school work she was having trouble with.  Unless she needed him she would turn her nose up at him. She barely acknowledged his existence.   

She had been a very popular girl, a cheerleader in love with Cletis the quarterback. But look at them now. Jimmy was now a respected police officer tall, handsome and muscular and she? Well, rag doll came to mind when she looked at herself in the mirror lately, floppy limbed, stringy haired, often bruised and swollen face, weak and broken in body and spirit.

“How the might doth fall,” she retorted.

“Miranda, I can...”

“Harold! You coming or what?” growled Officer Franklin at the door.

“I think we should take her to see a doctor,” he said, swiftly standing up and releasing her hand.

“What for? She’ll be in worse shape after her darling gets out on bail and comes back to finish her off. Now let’s go! She’s hardly the only one in town getting beat up,” he snarled.

Jimmy looked down at her then grabbed a card out of his pocket and stuffed it into her hand. “Call if there’s further trouble, Ma’am,” he said sounding carefully detached. Reluctantly he left, quietly closing the front door behind him.

She heard the gravel fly as the two police cars took off down the road. What could she do but lean back and cry?  She did weep for a good while. Despair often followed an episode of Cletis verses Miranda leaving her lethargic and resigned to her fate, but this time she remembered Jimmy at school. That somehow bolstered her. How nice and kind he had been to her then and even now. She looked at his card and only then noticed handwriting on the back.

Call me whenever you need someone to talk to. I’ll listen and I’ll help if you let me, it read followed by his personal cell number.

“Still sweet on me, I guess,” she murmured to herself. “No, Jimmy, no one can help me.” 

She knew it was true. She had to do it herself or stay like this. It was only a matter of time until Cletis really did put her in her grave prematurely. Suddenly she wasn’t too willing to allow that to happen. Cletis had slapped her and shaken her like a rag doll once too often. A steely determination suffused her being. She had a plan.

She went to the kitchen and grabbed a beer for fortification. She would need it. She downed it slopping a bit down her shirt but no matter. She went outside and hopped into the old jeep and tore on out of there. She had only a few hours at most until he made bail. His barroom buddies were always willing to help him out. Well, she had no buddies. She had only herself now. She didn’t need anyone though. She would do this all alone. She got herself into this mess and she would get herself out.

She pulled into her parent’s driveway and snuck into the house. Not that it really was sneaking in. Nobody ever locked their doors in this tiny bo-dunk town. They were gone to church so no one would see her disheveled appearance nor question her about her mission. She knew where her father kept it. It was always in clear view perhaps to intimidate anyone who dared question his right to it. The shot gun was up high and she, tiny thing that she was, had to get up on tiptoe to reach it leaning on the mantle for the extra inch she needed.

She handled it with expertise once she got it down. Her daddy had shown her a few hundred times how to shot with accuracy and she was good.

“My own little Annie Oakley!” her father had proclaimed proudly. She knew he had been disappointed in her for this current situation. She would do him proud again.

She checked for ammo with no doubt of actually needing it. Her father always kept the shotgun loaded for the unexpected critter bent on doing harm. Well, she needed it more than he did right now. She quickly scrawled a note on an old receipt for barbed wire from the hardware store she found lying on the kitchen counter.

 It read: Need this to get rid of a vermin that’s been bothering me. Get it back to you soon. Love your little Annie Oakley.

She grinned then grimaced and tenderly touched her face. Damn but it hurt and she could feel a tooth was loose. Oh, yeah, he would pay. His fist may be big but her gun’s bigger. He’ll find that out soon enough when she pulls the trigger.

Back home she sat by the front door smoking one of his cigarettes. She hated smoking and grew more ornery just from doing it. She wanted to be ornery. For far too long she had been a weak willed, sweet young thing blaming herself for Cletis’ problems. Well, she wasn’t the one pouring Jack Daniels down his throat nor was she the one that kicked him off the job. He did that on his own. He blamed her, slapped her face and shook her like a rag doll. Don’t that sound like a real man? Perhaps now she would earn that blame.

Another beer in and the six-pack was done. She could feel him coming like a black thunder cloud rumbling in the distance. Soon, real soon. Sure enough she heard a clunking pick up--Carl’s no doubt--flying down towards her. She thought she’d be afraid but that had long since passed. A blazing heat permeated her soul. Perhaps she was getting ready to go to hell. No, that wasn’t it. She was already in hell and she was determined to crawl on out of there and leave him there. Last time Cletis would ever hurt her or anyone.

“He wants a fight, well, now he’s got one,” she said as she cocked the gun and brought it to eye level.

The door banged open and there he stood filling up the door frame with his broad shoulders and looking angrier than a food deprived grizzly. Then he saw the gun and blanched.

“Say goodbye to your jewels, Honey. You won’t be seeing them again, not in one piece anyway,” she casually said.

BAM!

She calmly got up and walked towards him. He lay clutching his groin a scarlet stain appearing between his fingers as if by magic. He stared up at her terrified groaning.

“What the hell!” he moaned, thrashing around in obvious agony.

“Does that hurt?” she asked innocently.

“Hell yeah, you crazy bitch!”he shouted, looking from her face to the gun and back.

“You ain’t seen me crazy yet,”she snapped. She did, indeed, look a bit maniacal. Her pale blue eyes were slightly dazed and there was a nervous tick on the side of her face.

“What you gonna do?” he squeaked, rather like a cornered mouse.

 “Don’t gotta look so scared. It’s just little old me, Honey. I’m half your size, remember? And you know what little girls are made of, don’t you? Just a tiny bit of gunpowder and lead.”

She kicked him in the ribs just for good measure and laughed as he yelped. She then sat back down on her rocking chair staring at him as he struggled to get up. “I suggest you sit still or I might get an itch in my trigger finger. Now, listen up. You are gonna get back to your buddy Carl’s truck and go. I don’t care where, just go and never come back. If you do, it’ll be more than your pecker gets blown off next time. Do you understand me, Cletis? Or haven’t you sobered up yet?”

“I’m dying and you expect me to drive?”he whined.

“You’re not dying. That would  put you out of your misery and I kinda like the idea of you not being able to function like a man, if you know what I mean. Being as you ain’t no sort of man to speak of.  You actually think you’re a big man beating up on a little girl? Got news for you, you are nothing more than a wimp and a bully. I’m just sorry I never saw it back in school. The way you always beat up on kids smaller than you. Always smaller than you. You made sure you were friendly with the big ones, didn’t you?” she said.

“Call an ambulance, Miranda! You know I didn’t mean it,” he pleaded.

“Yeah, I’ll do that soon as you take back every slap and punch you ever gave me. Take the rest of you and get out of here unless you want me to finish you off. I could always dump you in that old well we got covered up out back and no one would ever know. Be easy to drag you out there and just... you know what? Maybe I should. You look like you’re in a lot of pain there. What do you say? One in the forehead, for all the good times?”

“You... you are crazy!” he shouted pushing himself away from her using his legs and leaving a wide, wet, crimson trail. He finally managed to get outside and pull himself into the truck blood pouring everywhere.

She waved from the front porch, smiled and shouted as he tore out, “Come back if you want another taste of what little girls are made of. Remember, gunpowder and lead! ”

She waited until the dust cloud vanished with his taillights. She stumbled inside and fell back on the couch, trembling all over. No, the fear hadn’t returned. Just an immense sense of relief. It was over, she just knew it. He would never return. Somebody had finally stood up to him and when all of town heard how it came about, he would be a laughing stock. To have his member blown off by a tiny little girl, a girl? No, he was outta here permanently.

She smiled then started to laugh, even though it hurt her. The laughter slowly ebbed and tears fill her eyes. She was free and she knew exactly who to thank for it.

She dialed the number on Jimmy’s card and just as she had hoped got his voice mail. “Um, Jimmy, this is Miranda. I just wanted to thank you. Cletis, as you probably know, got out on bail and I had a...uh...a little talk with him. He’s leaving town so you can tell your Sargent there won’t be any more trouble here. Thank you, Jimmy. I couldn’t have done it without you,” she said and slowly hung up. 

She took in a deep breath and slowly let it out again. Time to start afresh.