THE INTRUDER

THE INTRUDER

            The sound of breaking glass was unmistakable.  Pete Jenkins sat up straight in his bed and instinctively looked at the clock.  Two-thirty AM.  Well, it was too early to be the paper delivery guy throwing the daily news through the window, and it wasn’t the cat because he didn’t have a cat.  He thought the worst and was prepared for it.  He slowly rose, went to the closet and yanked the case from the top shelf.  He slid his hand over the interface, opened the case, and pulled out his 9 mm Glock along with an extra loaded clip.  

            His first instinct was to confront the intruder.  What business did some low-life have breaking into his space?  Indignation slowly dissolved into discretion and Alex went to his cell phone that was charging by the side of his bed.  His heart was pounding even though he had imagined such a scenario many times over, especially after he had purchased the pistol.  There were so many variations of what he would do, how he would maneuver to get the upper hand on the perpetrator.  Now was the time to put the plans into place and he couldn’t remember any of them.

            As he began to dial “911,” he heard the floorboards creaking in the stairwell. No time to call right now, he thought.  What’s the plan?  What the hell is the plan? 

            The door to his bedroom remained closed.  He heard a door to another room open.  It would be a matter of time before the intruder ventured into his space.  Pete went to the closet 

and knelt in the back raising the pistol in clenched hands.  The bedroom door opened, then closed again. The footsteps went back down the stairs and noise from cupboard doors being opened and drawers being pulled out filtered through the house.

            Pete got up and felt that the burglar would scatter if confronted.  A sense of courage filled him and it was his turn to be the aggressor.  Slowly, he walked down the stairs.  Naturally, being his house, he knew how to proceed without creating too much noise on the stairway.  Once at the bottom of the staircase, he pivoted to the right to see if he would encounter the perp.  No one in sight.  He went toward his office.  There, at the desk, a man stood rifling through the drawers.  It angered Alex to see another person taking liberty with his belongings.

            “OK, hold it right there, pal!” he stated firmly.  It caught the man by surprise and he started to reach for his waist. “Don’t even think about it!” Alex shouted.  He opened the light in the office and saw that the man was slender, unshaven, with frantic eyes.  “Drop the gun on the floor.”

            The intruder complied.  “Don’t shoot, man!” he pleaded.  

            “Why not?” Pete wanted to know.  “If the shoe was on the other foot, you wouldn’t hesitate to shoot me.”

            The man disagreed.  “Oh, no!  No, I wouldn’t.  I mean, I just wanted to get some money or something I could sell…”

            “Shut up, you moron!”  Alex interjected, but the man continued to blurt out his defense.

            “…so I could get a fix.  I need a fix, man!  I didn’t think anyone else would get involved.”

            Pete could see the desperation in his eyes.  “What are you, stupid?  You broke into another person’s house!  How could you avoid not getting another person involved?” He motioned for the intruder to move back while he bent down to pick up the other gun.  “OK, let’s go into the kitchen so I can call the police or decide what to do next.  I’m not so clear on this part since…” he stopped and shoved the man forward toward the kitchen “…THIS IS THE FIRST TIME THIS HAS HAPPENED TO ME, YOU JERK!  Sit over there and don’t move otherwise you’ll make my decision easy,” he said in a calmer voice.

            Pete sat across from the intruder at the table.  “Get yourself something to drink if you want,” he said as he pointed to the refrigerator.  The intruder got up, opened the refrigerator door, and got a bottle of water.  

            “Thanks, man, but I really need a fix.  I’m getting jittery,” the man mumbled.

            “Does this look like a pharmacy?  You know, you’re really hung up on this fix, aren’t you, bro?” Pete replied. “You know I’ve got a fix for you right here with a couple of shots from Doctor Death.  Then you won’t have to be jittery anymore because you won’t need a fix while you’re pushing up daisies at the graveyard.”  Pete peered at the intruder who was getting more nervous.  “I should probably just shoot you, put your gun in your hand and claim self-defense.”  He had a false courage emerging.  He wondered if having a gun when the other guy didn’t had anything to do with it.

            “Come on, call the cops!  You can’t just kill me!”  The perp was going from jittery to scared.

            “Let me ask you a couple questions and the answers will determine what I do with you,” Alex countered.  “Number one, and I’ve always wanted to ask this, what made you think it was 

OK to go into someone else’s house and take stuff that didn’t belong to you?”  He held up his gun hand to stop the intruder from answering.  “Let me finish, pal.  OK, number two, did 

you think when you left wherever you live this morning and set out to do whatever you do that this would be your last day on earth?”   Pete smiled.  The perp did not.  “OK, now you can talk.”

            Pondering the questions seemed to calm down the man who gulped down a swig of water before responding.  “I guess I never thought of it that way, question number one I mean.  It was what I needed to do to get some money.”

            “Did you ever hear about a thing called working, dumb ass!” Pete was quick to counter at which the intruder hung his head.  “Number two, bro.  Number two.”

            The intruder kept his head down.  “Maybe I’d be better off dead,” he reasoned, taking another sip of water.  “Like you said, I wouldn’t have to get up every day wondering what I would have to do to feed my habit.”  The thoughts had sobered him.

            Pete began dialing 911.  “I’m going to regret this and it will cost the state a lot of money to rehab you, where all it would cost me is the price of a clip of ammo.”  He finished the call.  As they sat waiting for the police to arrive, Pete asked “How old are you anyway?”

            “Twenty,” the man replied.

            “Wow, you look terrible for being twenty.  Do you think you can get your act together?” Pete wanted to know.  “That’s the condition so I won’t shoot you.  You’ll likely say what you think I want to hear but when you’re faced with going straight or messing up your life again, ask yourself those two questions.  You’ll find out it’s no fun worrying which day will be your last and maybe even learn that, if you put your mind to it, you may even be able to come up with something you want to do.  And I don’t mean building a meth lab! Remind yourself, you’re better than this.”  

            The police arrived, placed handcuffs on the intruder and confiscated his gun.  As they walked him out, Pete asked “Hey, what’s your name?”

            The intruder turned and said “Andrew.”

            “Well, Andy, remember…ask yourself two questions,” Pete said while pointing to his head.  “Be smart instead of stupid, if you can.”

            Andrew nodded his head twice as he looked back at Pete and smiled again.  A police officer stayed behind to take a statement from Pete who looked at the clock again.  3:30 AM.  

Amazing!  One hour had gone by and two lives had changed within that hour.  Pete could only wish that Andrew would recover and remember the two questions when hard times showed up again, and he hoped that he would never have to use the gun again.