Wheaton Maryland, 1990
The room was dark exept for the green shaded lamp on the old desk. The woman seated there was going over some more of the paperwork that was in the files, closing out her mothers estate. She was in her 40's with long dark hair and grey eyes, and looked very similar to the woman in the portrait on the wall in back of her. It had only been a month and a half since the funeral, but she and her brother had almost finished with the old house. Anne Devlin leaned back in her chair and studied the old reciept and letter she had found. It was dated from way back in the mid 50's, and was a letter of thanks from a Mr. Christy from the Christy Knife Company, Freemont Ohio. She read it carefully, and a slight smile came to her lips. Apparently her father had puchased 50 of thier knives for his personel, and Mr. Christy was thanking him for the government buisness.
She put the letter down and got up, walking across the den to the armchair where her coat and purse lay. Picking up her purse, she reached in with a practiced movement born of long years of habit, pulled out a Christy knife with the beaded keychain already around her right pinky finger. She looked at it for a moment, remembering when her father had given it to her one afternoon after an incident that had occured when she was walking hme from school. He had taken her down the basement and hung up an old pair of pants stuffed with rags and tought her a few tricks.
Anne looked at the photo of her mother and Father on the desk.
"Oh daddy, you always knew just what to teach us." she muttered quietly.
Wheaton Maryland, 1967.
The man had been waiting in the shadows for almost an hour. It was late enough in the fall that the light was fading as the last of the office workers in the building filed out and went home for the day. He'd been watching for a couple of months now, and he had planned well. Soon the slim dark haired young woman would be comming out and going to her car. She always left late, being the conciencous worker, and he was planning on that. Emplyees of the company in the building had to use the side parking lot, leaving the front main lot for clients. To get to her little Volkswagon she would have to walk right by him as he loitered there by the opening to the alcove where the trash dumpsters were kept. It was a dark and secluded spot, and the man grinned with the anticipation of getting the pretty little young woman alone in there.
He pulled back into the shadows quickly as he saw her come out of the building. The tapping of her high heeled shoes grew close, and he got ready to pounce on his victim. She came by the opening to the alcove just as he reached out and grabbed her and yanked her in out of sight. Slamming her againt the brick wall, he clamped his hand over her mouth and warned her not to make a sound or he'd break her neck. The girl didn't move or make a sound, her grey eyes were wide with fright. The man grinned, this was going to be easier than he though. He had her pinned between him and the brick wall, and as he pressed up against her he could feel himself getting exited. She was so small compared to him, he realized she was smaller than he thought. No more than 5'4".
"Now you and me are gonna have some fun here, or at least I am. If you make one sound, I'll snap your neck like a toothpick. Ya understand?"
The girl nodded and he slowly took his hand away from her mouth.
"I..I'll... do what ever you want, just don't hurt me." she pleaded quietly.
"Oh yeah, you'll do what I want allright, if you know what good for ya." he started to fondle her through her blouse, and she didn't fight him. Good he thought, this is gonna be more fun than I thought.
"Do you want me to take off my clothes?" she asked him, shocking him for a moment. "I know I have to do what you want, I don't have a choice, you being so much stronger than me."
The man got even more exited as she gave in to him so easy. She reached up with her left hand and stroked the long hair the man had, looking up at him with those innocent grey-blue eyes, promising to do everything he told her. He never saw her right hand, that had been groping in her purse for her car keys when he had grabbed her, come out of the purse with something shiney around her little finger.
Suddenly, with surprising quickness, the slim little woman yanked back on the hair at the same time her right hand came up under the would be rapists chin. Something cold and sharp bit into him, and her voice was now sharp and loud in his ear.
"Don't even think of moving!" she told him and called him some very foul things. "I said don't move!" as the man started to fight. He felt something warm trickle down his thoat, and he realized his victim could kill him very easy. She had some sort of knife right over his juglar.
"Look lady, I'm sorry, I didn't mean it, really, just foolin around, I swear. Just don't cut me, huh?" he pleaded.
"Put you hands in your pockets." she told him, "In the pants pockets you a---ole! Do it or I'll cut your throat right now and pead self defence, I swear it. DO IT! I'll kill you right here, I swear to God!
The man was scared not to obey her, and he stuck his hands deep in his pants pockets. When he had done so, the young would be victim kneed him right in the family jewels as hard as she could. The man went down gasping and retching from the pain, and the young woman ran out of the dumpster alcove and screamed for help as loud as she could. A couple of men came to her aid and a small crowd soon gathered, watching the police take the man away, still doubled over barely able to walk.
The police sargent on the call looked down at the little knife he held in his open hand. It looked so small and insignificant in his big meaty fist. He looked at the young woman, and thought she didn't look more than 110 pounds soaking wet.
"Miss, just where did you learn to use a knife and do what you did?" he asked her.
"Learn? I just was so scared, I don't even remember doing anything. Its all just a blur. I think I'm going to be sick, can I just go home now?"
The old sargent had been a cop for over 20 years, and he had a vague feeling he was being taken. Not that the young lady was being less than honest, but he had gotten good at judging people, and the grey eyes he looked into were a little too steady. But he wasn't going to push it. A rough justice had taken place here, and he'd keep the paperwork strait.
"Okay, we have your statement, but come on by the station tomarrow and talk to the investigators who will file the case, okay? "
He wached her walk away to where a blue Volkswagon was parked. She walked strait and steady, and he made an effort to surpress a laugh. "Somebody had made sure their daughter could protect herself," he thought.
Wheaton Maryland, 1990.
Anne Devlin held the little Christy knife in her hand for a moment, then slid the blade out with a smooth practiced motion. She felt the edge where it had been touched up by her brother not too long ago. Razor sharp. Slid it back in and placed the knife back in the special little sewn in sheath near the top of the purse opening. She thought about what her father had told her down the basement durring her training.
"Daddy, what if he's a lot bigger than me"
"Sweetheart, a bobcat's only about 35 pounds. Put him in a yard with a 90 pound German sheppard and see what happens. You be a bobcat, baby!"
The room was dark exept for the green shaded lamp on the old desk. The woman seated there was going over some more of the paperwork that was in the files, closing out her mothers estate. She was in her 40's with long dark hair and grey eyes, and looked very similar to the woman in the portrait on the wall in back of her. It had only been a month and a half since the funeral, but she and her brother had almost finished with the old house. Anne Devlin leaned back in her chair and studied the old reciept and letter she had found. It was dated from way back in the mid 50's, and was a letter of thanks from a Mr. Christy from the Christy Knife Company, Freemont Ohio. She read it carefully, and a slight smile came to her lips. Apparently her father had puchased 50 of thier knives for his personel, and Mr. Christy was thanking him for the government buisness.
She put the letter down and got up, walking across the den to the armchair where her coat and purse lay. Picking up her purse, she reached in with a practiced movement born of long years of habit, pulled out a Christy knife with the beaded keychain already around her right pinky finger. She looked at it for a moment, remembering when her father had given it to her one afternoon after an incident that had occured when she was walking hme from school. He had taken her down the basement and hung up an old pair of pants stuffed with rags and tought her a few tricks.
Anne looked at the photo of her mother and Father on the desk.
"Oh daddy, you always knew just what to teach us." she muttered quietly.
Wheaton Maryland, 1967.
The man had been waiting in the shadows for almost an hour. It was late enough in the fall that the light was fading as the last of the office workers in the building filed out and went home for the day. He'd been watching for a couple of months now, and he had planned well. Soon the slim dark haired young woman would be comming out and going to her car. She always left late, being the conciencous worker, and he was planning on that. Emplyees of the company in the building had to use the side parking lot, leaving the front main lot for clients. To get to her little Volkswagon she would have to walk right by him as he loitered there by the opening to the alcove where the trash dumpsters were kept. It was a dark and secluded spot, and the man grinned with the anticipation of getting the pretty little young woman alone in there.
He pulled back into the shadows quickly as he saw her come out of the building. The tapping of her high heeled shoes grew close, and he got ready to pounce on his victim. She came by the opening to the alcove just as he reached out and grabbed her and yanked her in out of sight. Slamming her againt the brick wall, he clamped his hand over her mouth and warned her not to make a sound or he'd break her neck. The girl didn't move or make a sound, her grey eyes were wide with fright. The man grinned, this was going to be easier than he though. He had her pinned between him and the brick wall, and as he pressed up against her he could feel himself getting exited. She was so small compared to him, he realized she was smaller than he thought. No more than 5'4".
"Now you and me are gonna have some fun here, or at least I am. If you make one sound, I'll snap your neck like a toothpick. Ya understand?"
The girl nodded and he slowly took his hand away from her mouth.
"I..I'll... do what ever you want, just don't hurt me." she pleaded quietly.
"Oh yeah, you'll do what I want allright, if you know what good for ya." he started to fondle her through her blouse, and she didn't fight him. Good he thought, this is gonna be more fun than I thought.
"Do you want me to take off my clothes?" she asked him, shocking him for a moment. "I know I have to do what you want, I don't have a choice, you being so much stronger than me."
The man got even more exited as she gave in to him so easy. She reached up with her left hand and stroked the long hair the man had, looking up at him with those innocent grey-blue eyes, promising to do everything he told her. He never saw her right hand, that had been groping in her purse for her car keys when he had grabbed her, come out of the purse with something shiney around her little finger.
Suddenly, with surprising quickness, the slim little woman yanked back on the hair at the same time her right hand came up under the would be rapists chin. Something cold and sharp bit into him, and her voice was now sharp and loud in his ear.
"Don't even think of moving!" she told him and called him some very foul things. "I said don't move!" as the man started to fight. He felt something warm trickle down his thoat, and he realized his victim could kill him very easy. She had some sort of knife right over his juglar.
"Look lady, I'm sorry, I didn't mean it, really, just foolin around, I swear. Just don't cut me, huh?" he pleaded.
"Put you hands in your pockets." she told him, "In the pants pockets you a---ole! Do it or I'll cut your throat right now and pead self defence, I swear it. DO IT! I'll kill you right here, I swear to God!
The man was scared not to obey her, and he stuck his hands deep in his pants pockets. When he had done so, the young would be victim kneed him right in the family jewels as hard as she could. The man went down gasping and retching from the pain, and the young woman ran out of the dumpster alcove and screamed for help as loud as she could. A couple of men came to her aid and a small crowd soon gathered, watching the police take the man away, still doubled over barely able to walk.
The police sargent on the call looked down at the little knife he held in his open hand. It looked so small and insignificant in his big meaty fist. He looked at the young woman, and thought she didn't look more than 110 pounds soaking wet.
"Miss, just where did you learn to use a knife and do what you did?" he asked her.
"Learn? I just was so scared, I don't even remember doing anything. Its all just a blur. I think I'm going to be sick, can I just go home now?"
The old sargent had been a cop for over 20 years, and he had a vague feeling he was being taken. Not that the young lady was being less than honest, but he had gotten good at judging people, and the grey eyes he looked into were a little too steady. But he wasn't going to push it. A rough justice had taken place here, and he'd keep the paperwork strait.
"Okay, we have your statement, but come on by the station tomarrow and talk to the investigators who will file the case, okay? "
He wached her walk away to where a blue Volkswagon was parked. She walked strait and steady, and he made an effort to surpress a laugh. "Somebody had made sure their daughter could protect herself," he thought.
Wheaton Maryland, 1990.
Anne Devlin held the little Christy knife in her hand for a moment, then slid the blade out with a smooth practiced motion. She felt the edge where it had been touched up by her brother not too long ago. Razor sharp. Slid it back in and placed the knife back in the special little sewn in sheath near the top of the purse opening. She thought about what her father had told her down the basement durring her training.
"Daddy, what if he's a lot bigger than me"
"Sweetheart, a bobcat's only about 35 pounds. Put him in a yard with a 90 pound German sheppard and see what happens. You be a bobcat, baby!"
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