Kelly

A Story by Otter

   I arrived in Amarillo Friday afternoon, I fueled, parked, pointed the dish, and kicked back to enjoy MASH reruns and a quiet night. I got on the Internet and logged into Writerscafe to check in with my friends. My friend Rain posted the first part of his new story, which I read and reviewed. I read a private message from Jet Lag, let me digress here a little. There are only a couple of sites that I frequent. I have a few friends, Jet Lag is special, I like her stories, I like her comments, she makes me cry, and smile. I hope to return the favor someday. Anyway, enough of the warm and fuzzy, back to the subject at hand. I popped some taco meat in the microwave and started watching television.
   It was a quiet night and after supper I slipped off my jeans and put my feet up to watch Monk and Psych. The sun went down and I looked forward to a long quiet night sleep after being sick for over a week on the road.
   There was a knock at my door, I came to the driver’s seat and found a working girl looking up at me.
“Want some company?” She asked.
   I put the window down and told her, “No.”
   She stepped up on the step and asked me again, “Are you sure you don’t want some company?”
“I’m sure. Go away.” I told her.
   She used to be pretty, she still had nice eyes, and perfect teeth, her face had stopped a few too many fists, she looked like she’d been driven around the block a few times too many in low gear. She was wearing a short denim skirt, black stockings and black four inch pumps that had made a few hundred laps around the parking lot, nice legs, skimpy blouse, and her left earlobe had been ripped open. She looked almost under nourished. She stood on my step and shivered.
“Can I come in and use your CB?” She asked. “I’m freezing out here.”
   I didn’t want her in my truck, I didn’t have the heart to tell her to “Get lost.” I wanted to help her. I really did, but I knew if I let her in, I’d have to wait until she found a customer before she left.
“Step down.” I told her.
   She stepped off the step and I pulled the door handle. “Come on, get on with it.” I got out of the seat and she climbed into the truck and sat in the driver’s seat. I handed her the microphone and turned on the radio.
“Anyone want some commercial company?” She called. “Kick it back to Crystal.”
“This is Crystal, anyone want some commercial company?”
   She looked at me, there was silence on the radio, “I’ll suck you and f**k you for fifty dollars.” She said.
“I’m not interested.” I told her.
“Forty?” She asked.
“No!”
“Thirty for a straight f**k?”
“I have a girlfriend and a cat who love me, we’re devoted to each other, use the radio.” I sat on the bed.
   She shivered and asked me to turn up the heat. I turned on the heater and asked, “Don’t you have a coat?”
“My man keeps my coat in the car so I don’t waste time walking around. Once I find my first trick I use the CB to find the next.”
“How many do you do a night?” I asked her.
“On a good night, eighteen or twenty. Sometimes only five or six. If I don’t bring in four or five hundred dollars my man beats the s**t out of me.”
   Let me digress again, I rescued my currant girlfriend from an abusive relationship twelve years ago, next month. I picked her up hitchhiking in New Jersey, and she told me if she wasn’t home by eight PM when the guy she lived with got home from work, he would pound the s**t out of her. I told her not to go home, being as it was already after eight. I took her with me to North Carolina and back home and she never went back. Her family treats me like family. She quit drinking, got her drivers license, a job, and we’re devoted to each other. I’m sure she would understand why I would want to help this girl.
“This is Crystal, anyone want some commercial company?” She called again.
   I reached up to adjust the squelch on the radio. She kissed the corner of my mouth and said, “You’re so sweet to help me out like this.”
“Anyone want some commercial company?” She called on the radio. “Kick it back to Crystal.”
“Come on Crystal,” Someone answered. “Where are you?”
“I’m at the truck stop behind the restaurant.” She replied.
   After she found out where the other driver was parked, she thanked me for the use of the radio. “You’re so sweet to stay faithful to your girlfriend.”
“G’night Crystal, good luck.” I told her.
“Actually I’m Kelly, I don’t tell people my real name on the radio.”
“G’night Kelly.”
   Kelly gave me a kiss on the cheek and pulled the door handle. “Thank You.” She said and got out. I locked the door behind her and went to sit on the bed. I noticed her guy come from between the trucks and grab Kelly by the arm. I couldn’t hear what was being said, he wasn’t happy, he slapped her hard and I saw blood trickle from her nose. I wanted to mind my own business. I really did. But I knew it would haunt me forever if I did nothing. I pulled on my jeans and slipped my feet into my deck shoes. I pulled the door handle and got out, pushing the door closed quietly behind me. I walked up behind him and he raised his hand to slap her again, I missed a couple of slaps while I was getting dressed and out of the truck. Kelly was bleeding from her nose and mouth and I caught A******s hand by the wrist with my left hand.
   I twisted his arm clockwise, bringing him to his knees. “How would you like it if someone went…” I slammed my right knee into A******s face. He started pouring blood from his mouth and nose. I released his arm. I should have broken it. As A*****e got his feet under him and stood, he pulled a stainless steel Walther PPK/S 7.65-mm pistol from his waistband and pointed it at me.
“You made a serious mistake f*****g with me and my w***e!”
“You’re making a serious mistake pointing that at me!”
   I own five Walther PPK/S pistols, two .22LR in blue and stainless, two 9mm Kurtz in blue and stainless and a 7.65mm in blue. I was about to add a stainless 7.65mm to round out my collection of PPK/S pistols. The PPK/S is a double action semi-automatic pistol. It has an eight-pound trigger pull on single action, and twenty to twenty-two pounds of pull on double action.
   A*****e’s pistol had the hammer down with the safety off. I grabbed his right wrist with my left hand, forcing the pistol up and right, I gave him a quick jab to let the air out of him, taking the pistol with my right hand and twisting his wrist clockwise again. I put the pistol in my right rear pocket, and bent his elbow to about a right angle, rotating his forearm clockwise. As I rotated his arm through six o’clock he dropped to his knees. I put about seventy foot pounds of torque into his arm and as it came through nine o’clock I heard the snap, crackle, & pop, followed by his scream as his shoulder came apart. I kicked A*****e in the right side of his head with my right foot, prompting him to take a nap.
“What are you doing?” Kelly screamed. “When he gets up he’s going to kick the s**t out of me!”
“He won’t be kicking the s**t out of anyone.” I told Kelly. “You’d be wise to be out of Texas soon.”

   I checked A*****e’s pockets and found a wad of cash. I handed the money to Kelly, “Here’s your travel voucher, you have somewhere to go?”
“I have a sister in Atlanta.”
“Go there!” I told her. “Does he have more guns?”
“About a dozen or so, one big one in his car, the rest are home.”
   I took Kelly by the hand and dragged her toward the parking lot where she pointed out his car. I broke in and found another pistol, a Springfield Armory 1911A1 .45, “Where’s your stuff?”
“We have an apartment, a couple of miles from here.”
   I took Kelly inside the truck stop and found a pay phone and called 1-800-rentacar. I love Enterprise, they pick me up. I put the two pistols in the truck, Jennifer from Enterprise picked us up, took us to her office, and rented me a car. Twenty minutes later we were at the apartment.

   While Kelly packed her clothes, I searched the place. I found an M16 in the closet and about a dozen pistols. I called dispatch and asked them to run the serial numbers through the NCIC database. “The M16 is stolen, that means I confiscate everything. Do you know how to use any of these?” I asked Kelly.
“I’ve shot that one.” She pointed at a Model 92 Beretta.
   I put the Beretta and the four magazines in her suitcase, then loaded the rest into the trunk of the car. Except for one old Colt 1911A1 .45. I put that back where I found it on top of the kitchen cupboard.
   We returned to the truck stop and I found a driver going to Florida who would be happy to take Kelly to Atlanta. A*****e returned to the truck stop from his trip to hospital looking for me. His right arm was in a sling. I found him in the parking lot and he asked, “Where’re are my guns and w***e?”
“I turned your guns over to ATF and your w***e is on her way to Minneapolis.”
“You missed one.” He said. Pulling the old Colt from his pants with his left hand. “Walk, that way!” He gestured toward the far end of the parking lot, being careful to stay far enough away from me to prevent me from getting the pistol from him. I walked.
   When we got to the end of the parking lot, he directed me over the bank and down toward the drainage ditch. “Turn around, get on your knees.”
“F**k you!” I told him
   A*****e pointed the pistol at my face and said again, “Turn around and get on your knees!”
“F**k you! You going to shoot me, look me in the eye and shoot me!” I told him.
“You think I’m bluffing? I’m going to kill you!” A*****e told me.
   The big pistol made a deafening roar as he pulled the trigger.

   I stood at the edge of the parking lot looking at A*****e’s lifeless body.
“Where’s the girl?” The detective asked.
“She’s on her way to Minneapolis.” I told him.
“Did you get her name?”
“Her name is Crystal.” I told him.
“Crystal is a material witness and you sent her out of state?”
“She was well on her way out of state before this happened.” I told the detective.
   A uniformed officer approached us and handed the detective my ID. “He checks out, Helicopter pilot, auxiliary trooper for the state of Vermont.”
   The detective looked at my ID and badge, “You know what I think?” He asked.
“I don’t have a clue what you think.”
   He glared at me, it was a retorical question, he didn't expect me to answer. “I think, you knew he would come back for you and you plugged the bore of that pistol.” Handing me my ID.
“Prove it.” I said, taking my ID from him.
“What do I care if some low life piece of s**t blows himself up. Where’s the other pistol? The one you took from him earlier?”
“I gave it to Crystal, he owed her money, I found a driver going to Minneapolis, I gave her the pistol and the money A*****e had on him, and sent her on her way.”
“So what’s a hot shot helicopter pilot from the Vermont State Police doing in Amarillo driving a truck?”
“We don’t have a lot of money, the Army will give us surplus helicopters, but the State figures we can’t afford the fuel and maintenance to fly them.”
“Have a safe trip.” The detective told me.
“Don’t work too hard, detective.” I told him, handing him a uniform patch from the Vermont State Police.
“Not on this case.” He said. “Thank you.”
"A*****e have a name?" I asked.