Invisible Man

As I was about to shut the door, something caught my eye. A cheap red Bic knock-off cigarette lighter was peeking out from underneath one of the rear seat cushions. Neither Kelly nor I smoke.

I pulled the lighter out from under the cushion, shut the car door and sat down on the garage floor with my back against the front fender. I had not cried since my parents died, but now I sobbed like a baby.

+++++

I avoid Kelly the next few days while I got my head together. It was easy as we just coexisted now anyway.

There would be no counseling, drawn out drama, camera, hidden recorders, PIs and such. As far as I was concerned this would be like ripping off a band aide fast and clean. It was taking out the trash, no looking back.

JoAnne let me borrow her truck and trailer. On Friday, after Kelly left for work, I loaded up all her stuff in boxes and bags and put them in a storage unit. I had already done the cancel accounts, separate finances thing, so I headed over to her work to end my marriage.

+++++

It was late in the afternoon when I walked into the reception area of Kelly's work. There was some drama going on as security guards were trying to escort some guy out of the lobby.

"YOU BITCH TALLEN!" the man holding a big box shouted, flanked by two security guards. "Fire me you WHORE!" He shook off the arm of one of the security guards.

"Come on." one of the guards pleaded. "Metro Police are on their way. You must vacate before they get here or you are going to be thrown in jail."

"Fuck you!" the man shouted as he kicked open the front door. "All you Assholes are going to pay. I don't give a fuck how many cock sucking lawyers you got!"

I took advantage of everyone focusing on the spectacle to slip past the receptionist desk. I did not want to do this in the lobby.

Halfway down the hall I stopped an older man in janitorial garb talking a foreign language into a Buetooth.

"Excuse me sir, can you tell me where Kelly the Office Managers office is?" I asked

Before he could answer, a female worker in business attire walked by. The lady appraised my jeans and work shirt with a disdainful expression and addressed the maintenance worker. "This is America, we would appreciate it if you would speak the language or go back to your own country."

The old man did not miss a beat. "That is Apache I am speaking and it IS the native language of America. So listen you tight ass immigrant, why do you not go back to YOUR country if you cannot speak the language."

Turning to me he continued. "Kelly's office is on the second floor right off the balcony. About the fourth door from the CEOs office."

"Thank you" I said turning bounding up the stairs leaving the lady standing there with her mouth open.

++++

The door to Kelly's office was closed, but I walked right in without knocking; what was she gonna do, cheat on me?

Surprise, suirprise, Tommy was in the office sitting on the inside corner of her desk leaning forward. Kelly was in her chair, leaving in so close their noses were almost touching. My wife's blouse was a few too many button unbuttoned giving Tommy a nice view of her breasts. He may as well as have had Kelly bent over the desk.

Tommy jumped up quickly and Kelly leaned back, hurriedly buttoning her top button.

"Eric!" Kelly said clearly flustered. "What a... surprise. Ah you remember Tommy from high school, right?"

Tommy gave a halfhearted wave.

Tommy...Yeah." I questioned. "You were in 'West Side Story', right?"

Tommy brighten "You remembered my performance, I was something even back then."

"Not really." I shrugged. "I just remember you could not hold your beer."

Tommy got a shocked look on his face. Kelly jumped in. "Tommy works here... in the mail room"

Tommy waved his hand. "Just a temporary thing, I have been here a couple of months. I am really an actor; I am just waiting for some feedback on the play I wrote. I do TV also. You probably saw me in the Red Real Estate Commercials."

"No, not really," I replied.

"Oh." Tommy said crestfallen. "Kelly said you guys have season tickets to the theatre where I am at. You must really enjoy my work."

I nodded at Kelly. "Well, Kelly is a big fan of grown men putting on make up and playing make believe. Me? Not so much."

Tommy and Kelly exchanged glances before he spoke. "Well, thanks for supporting the arts anyway. If you ever need anything just ask."

"Really, Tommy? " I said. "I would ask you not to fuck my wife Kelly, but it is too late for that."

"ERIC!" Kelly spat, jumping up from her chair.

I ignored her. "You got a smoke, Tommy?" I pointed to his nicotine stained thumb and forefingers.

"What?" Tommy was confused. "Yeah, sure," he stammered, while digging into his front pocket for a crumpled pack of cigarettes.

I tossed his cheap red lighter on Kelly's desk. "Here is one of your lighters. Must have fallen out when you were fucking Kelly in her grandfathers car Sunday."

"ERIC!" Kelly shrieked. "Stop that now! Tommy is just a friend!"

I pulled out my smartphone. "Give it up Kelly. I got footage of you two banging away in your 'Seanathair' car from the security cam installed in the garage. I am sure he would have been proud to see his beloved car used as a fuck-bed by his granddaughter to destroy her marriage. Makes me glad I got the upholstery Scotch-guarded."

In truth the security cameras were still in the box on my bench, I had been too lazy to install them, but I was betting Kelly did not know that.

Tommy and Kelly exchanged looks again.

Kelly walked around the desk toward me, but I put out my hand to stop her.

"Eric, you gotta believe I never intended to hurt you... "

I cut her off "Your intentions are irrelevant. You knew full well that cheating on me would hurt me, which is why you kept it a secret. You didn't intend to hurt me? Well, you didn't intentionally try to keep me from harm either."

Tommy looked uncomfortable. "Um... I better go."

I turned toward him. "No need to make an exit make believe boy." I pulled an envelope out of my package and dropped it on the desk. "Kelly is going to need someplace to crash. Here is the key to the storage unit where all her shit is and paperwork for six months rental."

Tommy rubbed his head, "No way dude, I am kinda living in my moms basement, so ah... "

Kelly looked stunned. "Storage, what? Wait, no, Eric. Hold on, listen... ah mistakes were made..."

"Not by me Kelly. Any mistakes I am correcting on my end now. You got your credit cards and money. If you do not want to bunk with Tommy Boy in Moms laundry room, just go find a place."

I could tell Kelly was still in shock. "Eric, this is not a deal breaker, until you found out there was not any issue."

"You insane, Kelly? You fucked him without a condom. You didn't consider my welfare; you were staggeringly selfish, you risked my health. All because you wanted a bit of strange, you didn't think I'd find out, and to you all this time, that seemed like a pretty good trade off." I shot off one last dig

"Good thing you have no children, Kelly, so you can't ruin their home life."

Kelly was stammering "YOU BASTARD! I should have fucked somebody else to give you a disease!"

I shook my head "Are you that stupid Kelly? You think Thespian boy was only fucking you?"

Tommy puffed up his chest and pointed at me. "I'm not the one who can't keep his wife satisfied." He looked at Kelly, "What? I never said we were exclusive. Come on, Kelly, you seen how the ladies come around backstage."

"Ladies?" Kelly fumed "A bunch of fat housewives and ancient first wives." She threw the cheap lighter at Tommy.

I turned to leave. "Well welcome to the first wives club Kelly. You and Basement Boy deserve each other. Since you work for the law firm, you can file the divorce papers."

Kelly's face was almost beet red. "Both you guys are asshole dicks!"

I gave her the finger as I walked out the door.

+++++

I was standing by at the second story balcony stairs trying to calm myself when I heard the shots.

I looked over the railing and saw a guy with a pump action shotgun shoot a round into the ceiling. Two security guards where sprawled on the ground by him, their blood spreading onto the marble floor.

Amidst the screams I heard him yell. "HERE I COME YOU BITCH TALLEN. I wanna discuss YOUR SERVERANCE package now."

Heads were peeking out of office. The old janitor I had been speaking with was pushing his cart toward the stairs at breakneck speed while yelling "ACTIVE SHOOTER! ACTIVE SHOOTER! GET TO SAFTEY! GO TO SECURE ROOM FIFTH FLOOR NOW!"

The old janitor reached the top of the stairs just as the gunman started up the steps. The old man pushed the entire cleaning cart down the stairs. The mass of mops, buckets, and bottles of cleaning supplies caught the gunman square in the chest as it tumbled down the steps knocking him down.

The janitor looked at me and pointed at a large copy machine. "Move that thing to the stairs; we gotta block him off."

I was frozen in place and could not move as the janitor ran to the elevator and placed a key in the slot from a bunch on his belt. He raced past me. "Come on man, let's go! That disables the elevator, but we still gotta block off the stairs."

My body just refused to respond and the old man ignored me as he unplugged the massive copy machine pushing it to the stairs heedless of the gunshots.

I was now joined by Kelly, Tommy and about six other women, including the lady who had chastised the janitor for speaking Apache. We stood there wide-eyed, staring at the scene like it was a reality TV show.

As shots slammed into the copy machine, the janitor was taunting the gunmen, "Hey Mini Dick! You shooting blanks? Looks like you need a bigger gun." This crazy bastard then started tossing potted plants in the gunmans direction.

The old man looked at me and hissed. "I can't hold him off much longer. MOVE YOUR ASS and get those people to the ladies shithouse around the corner."

I was still in trance until Kelly pulled at my arm. "Let's go Eric!"

+++++

We were milling around the ladies room like a bunch of sheep when the Janitor came in. He killed the lights and it took a minute for my eyes to adjust to the darkness.

The man pointed at the half dozen females. "You crowd into that last stall farthest from the door. Get behind the porcelain as much as you can." He turned to Tommy and me. "Move that couch in front of the stall wall. It will help block any pellets that get through. Hopefully we can hunker down here until the cavalry arrives. We gotta keep quiet and hope he can't find us."

He locked the door. "Anyone get eyes on that asshole gunman?"

I raised my hand as if I was in third grade. "He was wearing what looked like a black life preserver vest" I said

The old man nodded. "Body armor." He turned to the group of women huddled in the last stall. "YOU" he pointed at Kelly. "Give me your bra. NOW!"

Tommy was still looking around in a panic. "You gonna listen to that old pervert! We are all gonna die and that ancient degenerate wants to get a look at your tits!"

"Shut the fuck up Tommy" I said pointing to the tattoo on the old man's inside forearm that resembled a Budweiser Eagle and 'A' beer logo, except his tattoo had an eagle and a trident with an anchor. "This guy knows shit."

Kelly did that female magic trick and made her double D bra appear out the armhole of her blouse.

I noticed it was a plain thick white cotton "granny" bra as the man tore the cups apart and then wrapped one cup in a fist and punched the mirror above the sink. He picked out a long jagged piece wrapping the end in one of Kelly's bra cups handing it to me.

"I am betting our shooter has the less expensive ballistic resistant vest. Ballistic resistant armor disperses kinetic energy from a projectile, like a bullet, through a network of fibers, such as Kevlar, sort of like a speeding soccer ball getting trapped in goal netting. It will not stop a knife or stab."

"And what if he doesn't have a cheap bullet proof vest?" Tommy shouted, almost in a panic.

"Quiet down," the man said trying to hand Tommy a bra wrapped spike. "Then we go for the face. There are enough of us men here that if we pile on all at once we have a chance."

"Fuck THAT!" Tommy said, shirking away from the jagged piece of glass held out in front of him. "I am not sacrificing myself for a bunch of selfish cunts. Them bitches wanted equal rights, let them fight."

He started squeezing his way into the small crowd jammed into the last stall.

The old man grabbed the hair on the back of Tommy's head and pulled him backwards. Tommy spun around flailing, the old man kicked him under the kneecap and Tommy dropped to the ground.

Still holding Tommy's hair, the old man bent down and held the sharp edge of the mirror against Tommy's throat.

"You want to die on your knees instead of fighting on your feet like a man? That is your call, but you are not going to hide behind a bunch of skirts to save your skin. I'll cut your throat right now myself."

Tommy scurried to the far corner as the guy let go of his hair. The man turned to me. "What about you? Fight or flight?"

I was so scared my teeth were chattering. "I think I am gonna piss myself, but I'll stay on my feet."

From the crowd in the last stall came a child's voice. "Grandma, I am scared!"

A big boned middle-aged lady pushed her way out of the stall as she addressed the child. "It's okay honey, these men are gonna protect us until the police arrive."

She walked up to us doing the bra-thru-the-armhole magic trick. "Give me a one of those" she motioned to the broken mirror pieces. "That asshole will need to fill my body with every bullet he has and he better be sure I am dead, because he WILL NOT get thru to my girl as long as I am alive."

The man handed her a long jagged piece, then turned to the door. "Listen that door is not gonna hold up worth crap. The shooter has a pump shotgun and it sounds like a 12 gauge, which will easily blow a hole in the door, but the tile on either side of the door should give us some protection from buckshot."

He walked over to the side of the wall next to the door. "The door opens outward, so even this cheap door will be tough to kick in. I bet he shoots off the lock, and then pulls the door open."

"Like most guys he will use his dominant hand to open the door, which is also his gun hand." He pantomimed the action. "For just a moment the shotgun will be in the other hand. That means his gun hand will be gripping the door and not on the trigger. With the lights off, he will be looking into darkness and unable to see-that is when we strike."

He turned toward me. "You go high, I'll go low." He pointed at the lady. "You pile on. DO NOT STOP for any reason. Adrenaline will blunt any pain; do not be concerned about hitting me, because stiches are better than a coffin."

Just then we heard another shotgun blast.

"Come out you Tallen Bitch! Bring your fucking law book and Ivy League degree!"

The old man pushed me to the wall besides the door. He crouched with the lady behind him on the other side of the door below the level of the tile. I imitated his position.

My bladder was about to burst. The only light in the room was from the bottom of the door. Two feet blocked the light and then the doorknob rattled.

"You in there Tallen Bitch! Come out before I HUFF and PUFF and blow your shithouse away!"

The distinctive sound of a pump shotgun being racked was followed by a loud blast as the door handle just disappeared. Shrapnel struck the old man in the leg and he was blown backward into the lady.

The door was yanked opened.

Just like the old man predicted, the shotgun was cradled in the crook of the shooter's left arm and his right hand was on the edge of the door.

Our eyes met and I froze like a deer caught in car headlight. The shooter's right hand moved toward the shotgun trigger.

While my brain was in complete gridlock, some instinctual drive forced my body to act on its own as I raised the jagged piece of glass high and the internal need for survival leapt me forward to the attack....

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TO BE CONTINUED...