A man/woman, frustrated over the end of an affair, decides to date
his/her former lover’s best friend.

A Shot Rang Out

©2005 by Mae Ondracek

Emily looked in the mirror and cried, “How could he do this to me? My face will be red for a week.”

Yes, Art had slapped her as he was turning around but she wouldn’t believe him. She thought he had done it deliberately and had walked out of the party, a place she didn’t want to be anyway.

She found a taxi and went home, soaked her face in borax water and it did feel better. She hoped she would never see him again, or it would be too soon. She’d rather sit at home, than go out with that dirt, anyway, and she carefully rubbed the cloth over her whole face. Somehow, she’d show him what she could do, and then went to bed.

She lay there a long time, her face aching from the slap, until she finally went to sleep. It was a fitful sleep and she was so tired when she woke up, that she just lay in bed. Suddenly, she jumped out of bed and ran to look in her mirror. Her face wasn’t red, it was purple and swollen. She cried, “Oh, my God. Look what Art did to me. I’ll never go to work Monday morning.”

She got dressed and made herself a cup of chamomile tea. That usually took the sting out of anything. She sat at the breakfast table and thought about the past few weeks of their relationship. Art had been getting sort of riled, quite often and she didn’t know what the trouble was. She tried to be good to Art and it just didn’t seem to do any good. Last night was the slap that broke her back, as the saying goes.

She was having her third cup of tea when the doorbell rang. She yelled, “What do you want now?”

A strange voice said, “I’m sorry to bother you, but I came for Art’s stuff. Can I come in?”

Emily jumped up and said, “Just a moment, please.” Then she went to the door and opened it. “I’m sorry I spoke so rude to you, but you’d be rude too if your face felt like mine. Who did you say you were?”

“I’m Phil, but, my God your face looks terrible. Is that what Art did to you at the party?”

“Yes, I’m afraid it is,” she remarked, stepping back to let him into the house. “What did you want?”

“Well, I don’t blame you for running out on the party. Art always gets that way when he’s been drinking.” Phil said. “Do you have any vinegar?”

“Certainly, I have vinegar, but it isn’t Art’s,” Emily said.

Phil laughed and said, “No, I’m sure it isn’t. I want it to make a paste to put on your face. That is, if you don’t mind?”

All Emily could say was, “Oh!” and she stood there looking at him like she didn’t know what to do. Phil said, “The vinegar, please, and a small rag.”

Emily was unsure of herself and couldn’t think of where the rags were. Then she said, “How big a rag do you want?”

Phil looked at her and snapped his fingers and she looked at him and said, “Now, what did you want?”

Phil said, “That’s better. Now, all I want is a rag to cover the left cheek.”

Emily went to the cupboard and got out a rag and asked him what else he would need. He said, “Just the vinegar.”

She reached up in the cupboard and got down the bottle of vinegar and handed it all to him.

He poured a small amount of vinegar into a bowl and said, “Do you have some flour?”

She said, “Of course, I have flour. How do you think I can bake?”

He had to laugh at her bravery, but said, “Well, if you don’t mind, I’d like some of the flour.”

Emily said, “Oh,” and went to the canister and got him some flour. She put it on the table and said, “Now, what else do you need?”

Phil said, “Just your pretty little face over here, so I can put this flour/rag on it.”

Emily sat down on a chair while Phil mixed up the vinegar and flour and said, “This might hurt a little bit, but it will feel better after awhile,” and he put the vinegar rag onto her face. She edged away, saying that it hurt, but Phil told her to be quiet and hold the rag there. Then he proceeded to make some breakfast.

He asked her where the pancake mix was and she pointed to the cupboard. He opened doors until he found it, and then asked where the fry pan and cake turner were. She started to say she didn’t have a cake turner but thought be meant pancake turner, so she pointed to the top right hand drawer. He looked in there and found what he wanted, saying, “You know, it sure wouldn’t take me long to know where everything is.”

He turned towards the stove quickly and began making the pancakes without saying anything else. Emily thought he was pretty good with everything but she wanted to lie down so bad, the vinegar fumes were gagging her. She said, “Oh, my gosh!” and made a bee line for the bathroom and threw up.

When she came back out, Phil looked at her after flipping the last pancake and said, “Do you feel alright, Emily?”

She said, “Now I do. I just had to get rid of that awful taste in my mouth.”

“That’s good,” Phil said, “because breakfast is ready, if you’ll tell me where the plates, forks and stuff you put on these, are?”

She showed him where everything was and he took two of each thing out and she thought, ‘Oh, he’s going to eat with me.’ She said out loud, “Well, it’s nice to see you’ll eat your own cooking,” and broke into a grin.

He grinned at her and said, “I’m pretty good in the kitchen, you’ll notice, I did everything just right.”

Emily took the flour rag away from her face and flexed her jaw. It worked a lot better, now, and she asked, “What did the vinegar do to my face?”

He said for starters, “Well, it helped to take the black and blue out of your face,” and he reached over and flicked some powder off her face. “You just keep that up today and by tomorrow, you’ll hardly even know you had it.”

“Wow! These pancakes are wonderful, or am I just hungry?” Emily said.

“Oh, I just think you are hungry, that’s all,” Phil said as he smiled.

Emily ate three pancakes and Phil ate five, can you believe it, five? They both sat back and Emily said, “Wow! I never ate so much for dinner or breakfast before, which ever this is supposed to be. I usually have pancakes for supper so this is extra special. Thank you for making them.”

He looked pleased and said, “Well, I’ll tell you one thing, I really enjoyed this. For being with someone I didn’t know, it sure was fun. You know, when I get back home, I’m going to kick Art out. He has no sense whatever, if you’ll excuse me for saying so.”

“I sure do excuse you for saying so, not because he hit me again, but just because he likes to drink so much,” Emily said. “I thought I really loved him and whatever he did was all right, but I will not take hitting a woman.”

“I never thought he would do such a thing, since his dad always hit his mom,” said Phil. “Boy, I felt sorry for the poor gal. Wish I could have taken her to live with me, but she was over 70 years old and I’m working everyday. She wouldn’t have had it very nice. I’m glad it’s over for her, poor thing.”

“Did he kill her?” Emily asked.

“He might just as well have. Art and I were there for a weekend visit, when he hit her and she fell against the cupboard,” Phil said. “I was going to lay into him right then, but Art held me back, saying she’d be all right. But she wasn’t, she was dead. I’m afraid Art is heading the same way, too.”

“That sure felt like it to me. It really hurt something bad, when he did it. Then laughing it off by saying, ‘Oh, she’ll be all right in a little while,’ and he went on with his story he was telling and everyone agreed with him,” Emily said. “Oh, I hate him. I’m sorry Phil, but I really do mean it. If I ever see him again, I think I’ll bop him one.”

“No, I don’t believe that,” Phil said. “From what I’ve seen, you are too sensitive. Now, I think I better get home and let you go to sleep for awhile,” and he kissed her good cheek and said good bye.

Emily got up and put things away and the dirty dishes in the sink. She fixed her cheek and laid down on the sofa for awhile. She fell asleep and didn’t wake up until she heard a knock at the door. “Who is it?” she questioned.

“It’s only me, Phil. I had to come back and check on you,” was the answer.

Emily opened the door and was ready to welcome him in, but it was Art. She tried to shut the door, but his foot was in the way and he pushed his way in. She said, “I gave all your stuff to Phil. What more do you want from….,” and he cut her off with a slap to her face. “Art what are you doing? I can’t take this anymore.”

But he shut the door and pulled her to him, “You are mine and everyone knows it. You got that?”

“All right Art, all right. You’re hurting me. Now let go,” Emily cried.

“I’ll let go of you, all right. Now get in the bedroom. I’m going to show you who is boss,” Art said, as he stripped off his belt.

She recoiled in terror but saw the door open a little bit and said, “No Art, not like your father did. You remember he killed your mom.”

“Yea, well, that was my father, I won’t get caught. Now into the bedroom before…,” Art stopped talking as Phil entered and jerked the belt out of his hands.

“”You leave me alone, Phil. This is between me and my girl. Now leave,” Art said.

“No, I’m not going to leave,” Phil said. “It looks like I arrived just in time. Now you take your belt and leave before I call the cops.”

Art said he hadn’t heard the last from him and they would both be very sorry and he left. Emily was crying so bad that her face was puffing up again. Phil went to her and held her tight, not saying anything until Emily quit crying. Finally she said, “I’m sorry Phil, for getting you into this trouble, but I sure am glad to see you back here. Oh, that belt felt terrible and he only hit me once with it.”

Phil said, “Get a few things ready and we’ll go to a motel for a couple of days. Maybe by that time he’ll be settled down a little.”

Emily packed a small bag and while Phil looked outside, he said it was all right to go. He hated to be such a worry-wort but with Art drinking like he had been, you never knew what he’d do. “So, Emily, I’m taking you to a safe place. He’ll not be able to find you. I hope you don’t mind me sticking my neck out, but I feel like I have to protect you from him.”

“No, I don’t. I’m really scared that he’ll follow us,” Emily said.

“Don’t be scared, Emily. I’ll take good care of you, you’ll see. I really felt something this morning and I think I’ll go right on feeling it. I need you, Emily,” Phil said, “and I’ll keep on needing you for as long as you like. You’ll see.”

Emily was crying silently again and Phil pulled over to the side of the road, and held her tight. “I’ll never let you go, again,” he said. “I should have stayed with you this morning but I thought I better let you sleep. Did you sleep any?”

Emily opened her eyes and saw someone outside the car, so she yelled and Phil took off like a shot out of a gun. “Where the hell did he come from? Hang on, Emily, we’re going to fly,” he said and really took off.

They got into Remington and pulled off into an alley. About 15 minutes passed and they saw Art go through town like he didn’t care who was following him and sure enough, the cops came up behind him. He hated to stop, but stop he did and the cops tried to talk him out of driving so fast, but he was so shook up, that he wasn’t making much sense. They put handcuffs on him and put him in the back of the police car. They headed off to jail, Phil and Emily hoped. After he was inside the car, they carefully pulled out and returned home. It was safe to go home now that Art was in jail, for a little while anyway; tomorrow they would go to the police.

They pulled up to the East Side Motel and Phil went in to get a room. He was soon out again and they pulled up to their door. He said, “I hope you don’t mind, Emily, but I am going to stay right near you tonight.”

“No,” she said, “I don’t mind. I’ll sleep better if you are near.”

He had taken a room with two beds, because he knew Emily was afraid and wouldn’t stay by herself. After she was done in the bathroom, he went in and pretty soon he came out with a false mustash and big glasses. Emily broke up laughing and they were very happy, especially Phil who had gotten Emily to laugh.

Emily laughed so hard, that it took a long time to settle down to sleep. She called over to the other bed, “Phil, I do believe I can’t go to sleep. You have made me very happy and I wish the best for you. Good night, Phil.”

“Good night, Emily. I wish the best for you, too,” Phil said.

The next morning was a cheerful morning and Phil said everything would go all right. They were dressed and ready to leave as Phil opened the door and a shot rang out, hitting Phil in the arm. He slammed the door shut and locked it, shoving Emily down between the beds. He cautioned her to stay low while he called the cops. They said they wouldn’t be long in getting there and he hung up the phone. He told Emily all they had to do was wait for the cops to come.

It wasn’t very long before they heard the sirens and then nothing. They waited what seemed like an eternity and Phil said he was going to open the door and Emily should stay down. As he snaked across the floor to get to the door, there was another gunshot, and then Art hollered, “What are you guys doing? That’s my girl in there with that murdering so and so. Let me get her out.”

Emily looked up and said, “Phil, Phil! Are you all right?”

Phil didn’t answer and she ran to him, crying, “Phil, are you all right? Why don’t you answer me?”

Soon there was a knock at the door and someone shouted, “Police, open the door, please.”

Emily got up slowly and unlocked the door, motioning to Phil, saying, “That dirty guy shot Phil right down. Will he be all right?”

“Yes, I think so, ma’am, he just banged his head on the bed post, but he does have blood on his arm. Do you know the guy that has been shooting at you?”

“Yes, I do. That’s Art, the guy I was going to marry but he must of snapped. Why would he try to kill us?” Emily asked.

“That is what we’ll try to find out. Say, this guy is beginning to come around,” one of the cops said.

Emily ran to him and grabbed him around the shoulders, crying, “Oh, Phil, I thought he had really gotten to you when I saw you on the floor. I’m so glad you’re all right.”

“Hey, I like this. Can you guys wait a little longer while I talk with Emily? It won’t take long,” Phil answered. “Emily,” Phil said, “Emily,” he said louder. “Can you hear me, now?”

She looked up and saw it was Phil talking so she shook her head, yes, and listened to him. Phil said, “I guess you’ll have to follow the ambulance in my car. They won’t let me drive in this condition. Do you think you can do it?”

“Of course I can. I’ll follow you to the ends of the earth, if that is what it takes,” and she kissed Phil on the mouth.

“Okay, lady. Let’s get him to the hospital and taken care of. Then you’ll be able to be with him,” an officer said as they rolled the cart out. Phil called out, “I sure hope you can drive a stick shift?” which stopped Emily in her tracks. No, she could not drive a stick shift.

As the ambulance pulled away from the curb, an officer said, “Don’t worry, miss, I can drive one of these things. Hop in and my buddy will follow us to the hospital.”

“Thanks,” Emily said as she got into the car and took off after the ambulance.

“See, nothing to it Miss, if you just pay attention to the system,” said the officer, “and we’re here.”

“Thank you so much, officer,” and Emily was ready to break down again, and the officer said, “No more tears now. Go in to your husband.”

“Oh, no officer, we’re not married, yet. He was just protecting me from Art, who will rot in jail, I hope!” she said.

They got out of the car and she ran to the waiting room. The nurse stopped her and asked her a lot of questions, which, of course she couldn’t answer, except Phil’s name and age. Then she was told to wait until the doctor came out of the trauma room. Emily waited and paced until the door was opened and out came Phil and the doctor. Phil said, “Well, I sure do thank you for fixing my arm.”

Then he heard, “Oh, Phil, are you all right?” It was Emily.

“Yes, Emily, I am fine. Just a little...,” Phil started to say, but was cut short by Emily grabbing him around the neck and kissing him.

“Well, now, I wish you’d do that more often, like every day,” Phil said. “Come on, I’ll take you home,” and they walked out of the hospital emergency room, together.