Putting On The Ritz

The knock on the door surprised me. The knock in and of itself wasn't unusual as many times

my neighbors in the RV campground would stop by unannounced. It was a 

common occurrence. Often if it wasn't another friendly camper stopping by to say "hi", it was

one of the extremely competent and helpful maintenance men checking up on me.

However, we were expecting a storm that night, and I was sure everyone around me

was batting down the hatches. I, too, was making sure that I had everything I needed to be

stuck inside for the next few days. The propane was topped off, water was flowing, my auxiliary

battery was charged, and nothing outside was untethered. Plus I had wine and cheese chilling

in the fridge. It can be very cozy to hear the rain pitter-patter on my tin roof, but I knew enough

by living in a camper that preparation was paramount to ensure safety. I had also recently

stopped at the library and checked out some books I had been dying to read, so a day or two

of seclusion sounded lovely.

The knock, though was persistent. My immediate thought was one of my neighbors needed

help, so I didn't even peer out the window before flinging the door open. Unfortunately, that

was not the best idea. There he was; the man who abused me, the man who tried to kill me,

the man I was running from. I tried to slam the door but was too late. Before I realized it, my

worst nightmare was happening again.

"Well, hello there," he sneered," You are not an easy woman to find. But here I am. You lucky

girl."

I couldn't believe he found me. I had spent the last 8 months running from campground to

campground. I had changed my phone number, and even traded in the car he knew I drove, all to

try and avoid exactly this situation.

"What do you want?" I tried in my sturdiest voice. "Get out" I turned to try and reach the door

but he was blocking my escape.

"I just want to talk, Baby. I've been looking all over for you".

My blood froze. I felt my knees knocking, but I refused to let him see the fear. "You have to

leave.." Before I knew it, he had pulled out a gun and was pointing it at me. I knew everyone

around me was hunkered down and no one would be outside to hear my cries, so I decided to

try and talk some sense into him. "We are about to have a storm, you really shouldn't be here"

Yes, it was weak and yes, he wouldn't budge. He chuckled and held the gun steady on me.

"Let's have a seat," he said," We have things to discuss." He took me by my elbow and forced

me down on the sofa. "You look horrible, by the way ", he laughed.

Great, not only has my worst nightmare come true, but apparently I also didn't look pretty. So

far I was batting a thousand. I had a feeling that my library books would not be read anytime

soon.

"I've missed you, Baby. "

No! I thought to myself, no, I'm not your baby, I'm not yours at all. This can't be happening. No! The physical scars had healed, but my emotional ones were still alive and kicking. I could barely breathe, I felt as if all the air in the RV had been sucked out. All of a sudden, a loud clap of thunder sounded, and I jumped out of my skin.

He started to laugh, "Just a little rain, Ladybug, nothing to fear." As if it were the storm that

jostled me, not the fact that I was sitting next to a crazy man who had drugged me, threatened

me, and previously, left me so bruised that I looked like I had been in a major car accident. Now

that despicable man was pointing a gun at me.

Get a restraining order, the police advised, when I finally was strong enough to start leaving him.

Ha! I have that piece of paper sitting in my purse right now. I was wondering what kind of paper

was bulletproof.

"You are supposed to be in jail," I croaked out.

He smiled at me as if I had just been born, "Oh, that? I never properly thanked you for getting

me thrown in the slammer, did I? Well, I guess it's your lucky day, I'm here to thank you in

person. Overcrowding is problematic these days, some of us lucky ones got a very reduced

sentence. You can thank the government after I'm done here."

"W-why are you here? I don't want problems, I just want peace"

He laughed again. Yeah, it was a lame try, I get it, but it was all I could think of as I was looking at

him and, oh yeah, the gun. No wonder I couldn't come up with anything remotely clever.

"You left me"

"You beat me" OK, maybe stating the obvious to a crazy person wasn't the smartest move, but

I never could control the filter from my brain to my mouth.

He gave me a half smile when I said that “ You always were a smart ass," he replied, "and I'm

here to finally get what I deserve."

I was shaking. No idea what he thought he "deserved." That's the fun part of dealing with a

narcissist, they think they deserve everything.

Jay and I were not together long, but it felt like an eternity. Initially, it was all sweetness

and love. We could share anything, we discussed dreams and futures, we laughed and I

felt like he was a great partner at the time. I wasn't looking for a permanent relationship, but he

was sucking me in daily. He had convinced me to "loan" him money, to help pay his bills. A

loan implied he'd pay me back, but that never happened. His constant demands for money

started, and when I put my foot down on this gravy train, he didn't take it well. The beatings

began. I didn't know how to appease him. Then I found myself to be incoherent at times.

Friends would say that I made no sense when talking to them. I realized this man was drugging

me. The beatings were not enough, he wanted me dead. I woke up one morning, bruised and

broken, and had had enough. It was time to leave, but not the way he wanted. I wanted to live

and I knew staying there was no longer an option. I fled.

When we started dating, I had bought a motor home, and while he was gone one day, I found a

sliver of courage and took off. For 8 months I ran. I moved so many times that there were days

I didn't even remember what city or state I was currently living in. After a while, I began to relax.

Even though he tried to contact me through social media, I was sure he didn't know where I

was. Until he did.

"It's like this, '' he growled," we are back to MY rules. Now, we are going to.....agggggg, what the?.”

Out of the blue, my sweet little rescue cat, Ritz, pounced on his back, nails out and holding on

for dear life. While Jay danced around trying to dislodge my hero who had every claw deeply

sunk into his back, he dropped the gun. I quickly snatched it up and now was standing over

him, pointing the gun at him. Ritz realized his job was done, so he scampered away.

"It's like this", I said. " Here are MY rules.."

Just then the door flung open and standing there was the campground maintenance man.

He had seen the strange car parked outside, heard me scream, and decided that I

was in trouble and let himself in. The two of us were able to keep Jay subdued until the police

arrived. Being a felon and having a gun was a big no-no, not to mention stalking me and

breaking the restraining order, Jay was looking at a few more years in prison.

The maintenance man got a huge hug, Ritz got to eat like a king, and I got to read my books.