Jeanette's Story

"So you'll keep your promise to a proven liar at the expense of the vow which you made in front of God and all of our friends and families."

"I keep telling you, nothing is going to happen."

"It doesn't matter if nothing happens. You made your choice; you picked him over our marriage."

I spent the night on the couch. I could hear Jeanette crying in the bedroom. My mind was at war with my heart. The logical part of me wanted to let her get hurt and gloat over the corpse when the inevitable happened, while the emotional component said I should be the knight in shining armor and save my marriage. I spent a sleepless night debating long and hard which I wanted. In the end I decided to compromise.

I was up before the sun. Jeanette ignored me. I really pissed her off when I took a picture of he with my phone. "Why did you do that?" she demanded.

"So the police will have a current picture in case they have to ID your body."

She let loose with a string of obscenities.

I walked in the bedroom as she was packing her suitcase, "If you get on the plane with him I won't be here when you come back. Our marriage will be over."

She gave me a dirty look and said, "I know you're not that stupid."

"Funny, I thought the same about you. I guess we were both wrong." I walked out without kissing her goodbye.

I parked my car down the block and watched her leave. Then I went back inside and shaved off my distinctive beard and mustache. Next,I dressed in my black suit with a white shirt and narrow black tie. My wife called this my funeral attire, which I guess was fitting as I was going to witness to the death of our marriage. A pair of sunglasses completed my disguise. I grabbed my briefcase and a couple of suitcases stuffed with my clothes and set off for the last roll of the dice.

I was at the gate when Julio called a few minutes after 8. He was outside Jensen's basement apartment. "Boss, you ain't gonna believe this. They got in a big argument. Your wife wanted to drive to the airport but the chooch said it was cheaper to take the subway. She even offered to pay for parking but he told her to keep her money as they would need it when they got to Colorado.

I checked her wallet while she was in the bathroom; she had less than $100. I hope she wasn't planning on using our joint credit cards because I cancelled them right after I bought my ticket.

I wish I could read Jeanette's mind as she had to carry her bags down the stairs to the dark underground labyrinth Chicagoan's call the subway. The blue line train would be packed with people going to work. Julio thought it odd a man flying to Denver to go skiing in December didn't have a proper winter coat or even gloves as he watched them being jostled by the crowd.

Jeanette's dream vacation was already on rocky ground. The ride took a little over half an hour. Julio followed them into the terminal and watched Jensen print out their boarding passes. Fortunately he didn't look at them very closely and hadn't noticed I changed his seat location right before I bought my ticket.

Julio called again to say they reached the TSA checkpoint so he could go no further. "Thanks for everything. You've been a huge help."

The screener at the x-ray machine flagged Jeanette's carry-on bag. "Please step over here, ma'am." Soon a minimum wager was rutting through her clothes until he found the corkscrew I hid in the inside zipper pocket when I rifled the bags to see what she had packed. To my relief there was nothing remotely sexy. The TSA agent read her the riot act and confiscated the corkscrew.

The timing would have to be perfect for my plan to work. I had paid for early boarding and was one of the first on the plane. I claimed my center seat. My wife had the window seat. I decided to give her a second chance if she sat next to me so I could show her my evidence.

Luck was on my side and the man who had the aisle seat boarded a couple of minutes later. I was happy to see he was very fit looking young man; by the buzz cut I assumed he was a college athlete.

Slowly but surely the rows ahead of us filled. The stragglers searched the overhead bins for a place to stow their carry- on bags. A couple minutes later the festivities began.

"Hey asshole, you're in my seat." Jensen stuck his ticket in my seatmate's face.

Jeanette had turned the other way to force her suitcase into the overhead compartment but looked back when she heard the commotion.

The guy sitting on the isle said, "Look at the row number. You're way back by the bathrooms."

Jensen unleashed a profanity laden screed about how incompetent the airline was. He capped it off with, "Then move your fat ass to the back of the plane and let me sit next to my girlfriend."

Jeanette heard him call her that but did not object. Instead she said, "John, since he doesn't want to maybe you should ask the man in the middle to change seats. Without my beard and mustache she didn't recognize me right away. The sunglasses helped.

By now a flight attendant had pushed her way through the crowd and the purser had come from the aft galley to see what the commotion was. She glowered at Jensen and demanded he take his seat so they could finish boarding the plane.

"This flight is packed. Take your assigned seat and we'll see if we can move you after takeoff."

"I paid to sit next to my girlfriend!" Jensen was waving his ticket.

Jeanette finally realized I was sitting in the center seat.

"What the hell are you doing on my plane. You did this! You're humiliating me!"

"I'm humiliating you. You're a married woman and this piece of shit is calling you his girlfriend."

"He only said that to get him to change seats." Her voice reeked of venom.

Jeanette stepped into the empty row in front of me and continued her tirade, "You son-of-a-bitch! I knew you were going to ruin my vacation! I hate you! I hate being married to you!"

I knew she would be mad but I must be stupid because I never expected her to say that. I felt like my soul died. I was in shock. I had lost my wife. I grabbed my briefcase and was going to deplane when the damnedest thing happened. Jensen began waving the ticket in my face. Without thinking I snatched it out of his hand. My voice was trembling when I said, "Tell me whose name is on this ticket." I held the slip of paper for her to read. She got a puzzled look, "John, who is Robert Jensen?"

He lunged forward and grabbed the ticket. "No one." He crumpled it up and stuffed it in his pocket.

"Sir, you have to take your seat." The purser was losing patience.

Jensen got in her face and continued his demand, "That's my seat...next to my girlfriend. Make him move."

That bastard calling my wife his girlfriend tore me back to reality. Tears were running down my face as I looked my wife square in the eye. "Robert Jensen is your boyfriend. The reason he doesn't want you to know his real name is because the real nice guy has an outstanding arrest warrant for non-payment of child support. I guess he could afford to take my wife on vacation because he wasn't taking care of his own children." I opened my briefcase and handed her a copy of the bench warrant. "You might want to read this."

Jeanette looked at the document. Her voice quivered, "John, what's going on? Is that true?"

"While you're at it you might ask your boyfriend why he didn't buy you a return ticket." I handed her their trip itinerary showing hers was a one way only ticket.

Jeanette was getting worried. "John, why don't I have a return ticket?"

He ignored her plea and continued arguing with the flight attendant.

"You're not going to tell me he forget to tell you he spent two years in jail for beating his wife so badly she spent almost a month in the hospital. I have pictures." I handed her a couple of shots of a woman whose face looked like it was hit by a truck. "That real nice guy did this to her."

"John, please tell me he's making this up."

Jensen didn't answer; he was too busy telling the head flight attendant what he thought of her and her airline. "You better make him move or else."

I was on a roll. "It's amazing what you can find if you Google someone's real-I drew out the word real- name. Here's the newspaper stories if you don't believe me." I handed her half a dozen articles." His mug shot is in each one in case you think I'm making this up."

"I don't understand." Jeanette was very confused.

"Come now, surely he told you he's a registered sex offender." Damn the plane got quiet as I shouted that. "Tell me if this sounds familiar. He talked a naive young lady into going skiing in Colorado. Instead of hitting the slopes he drugged her and he and his buddies took turns raping her. She was able to escape after a week in captivity. That earned him four years in jail."

Jeannette was sobbing, "John, please tell me that didn't happen."

He was too busy arguing with the flight attendant and didn't respond.

"Try Robert. Robert Jensen. That's his real name."

Jensen wasn't the smartest predator but it finally seemed to have sunken in. I had derailed his plans. He screamed,"I'm going to kill you!" and lunged at me. Unfortunately for him I moved and his fist connected hard with the flight attendant's face .

All hell broke loose in the narrow isle.

My seat mate, who it turns out is a starting defensive tackle at a BIG 10 college, was on him in a heartbeat and restrained him until Chicago's finest slapped handcuffs on his wrists. The news called him a hero...the airline upgraded him to a seat in first class as a reward.

Jensen found out it's a felony for assaulting a member of a flight crew. Surprisingly, telling the police officer you didn't mean to hit the flight attendant, you were trying to kill your girlfriend's husband, didn't elicit a lot of sympathy.

I handed Jeanette every last piece of damning evidence I had collected. "I swear to God every word I said is the truth."

Jeanette stared at the pile of documents without looking at them.

"It's over. Now let's go home. " I threw my arms open praying she would let me embrace her. Instead my wife ignored the invitation and stood in silence, her head bowed, staring at the floor. She didn't say one word. Not one fucking word!

Then it got worse. As the Police were hauling Jensen off the plane I could hear him screaming over and over "Hey Menzel, I fucked your wife." My eyes pleaded with her to say he's a liar...that never happened. She turned away in silence.

An airline security guard told Jeanette and me that we were being remanded to the custody of the Chicago Police Department for our roles in the melee. Before we moved I heard a flight attendant say, "Let the gate agent know three seats just opened up." I said a prayer of thanks.

The other passengers stared at us as we walked by. It seemed like everyone had a cell phone clicking pictures. Now Jeanette knew what it was like to really be humiliated.

She didn't say a single word during her walk of shame. I don't think she knew what hit her.

I also felt numb. My knees were buckling and I had to concentrate to walk. Somehow I managed to hold my head up. I wanted to tell everyone I did everything I could. Everything went exactly as scripted. Well almost everything as I saved Jeanette but lost my wife.

The police took us to separate rooms to question us. Homeland security was there too. I spent the next hour explaining all I knew about Jensen. The detective said "wait here" and left me alone with a cup of stale coffee for the next two hours while they called their brethren in Denver.

I paced back and forth like an inmate while I debated with myself the marriage ending question, did my wife fuck Jensen or did that son-of-a-bitch throw that out to destroy us. If she didn't fuck him, why didn't she say so? On and on the debate raged.

When the detective finally returned he said they found a very receptive audience in Colorado. "Your wife threw up all over herself when I showed her pictures they sent over of the chalet-a tarpaper shack at the back of an auto salvage yard.- and what they had in store for her inside.

Jensen had four friends-the infamous two couples- waiting for their arrival. They had prepared the shack with restraints and shackles so this one couldn't run away.

"We found enough sedatives hidden in his bag to knock out a circus elephant for a week."

It didn't take much persuasion to get them to tell their plans for his next victim. It would not have ended well for my wife. They were going to kill her when they were done with her. The detective said all color drained from her face as they read her their confessions. Then she passed out cold.

When he was finished the detective asked if I would like to use the room to talk privately with my wife. From the tone of his voice I could tell that wasn't a question. "Yes sir."

I clicked open the locks on my briefcase and took out the divorce petition.

"What's that?" the detective asked.

"I told Jeanette I would divorce her if she got on the plane with Jensen."

"Have you no compassion? That woman is broken; damn near suicidal. She's in shock from learning how close she came to being murdered. You said you did all of this to save your marriage. Hand her that and you'll destroy her."

I was unmoved. The part of me that loved her had died.

"She knows she fucked up big time. Right now you're the good guy. You pulled off an incredible plan to rescue your wife. You're a regular Liam Neeson. You can't walk away from her."

I broke, "Even after all she did, if Jeanette says I'm sorry I will tear these up. I give you my word. But you can't tip her off."

"You've got my word."

A minute later he led my wife into the room. I got one quick glimpse before she buried her face in her hands; she looked like death and stunk of vomit. She collapsed into the chair and began sobbing.

The detective lorded over her as he said, "Mrs. Menzel, I've been a police officer for over twenty nine years and what you did was the most stupid thing I ever heard of. If a person ever deserved to be murdered it's you. You should thank God with every breath you take for your husband and for every heartbeat he gave you. You owe him for the rest of your life."

He closed the door on the way out. The only sound was my wife sucking air in between sobs. Not a fucking word. Not a thank you...not an I'm sorry. Nothing.

Finally, after about five minutes, I got tired of waiting for her to talk. "You sold out our marriage for a ski trip worth less $1,500. Fifteen hundred dollars...that's all our dreams were worth. After this how could I ever trust you not to leave me for the next shiny bauble?" My mind was pleading for her to talk. She said not a word.

Tears streamed down my face as I waited for her to say something. Anything. When I couldn't take it anymore I said, "If at any time you said I'm sorry I would have torn this paper up. I can't wait any longer." I handed her a copy of the divorce decree.

Jeanette screamed so loud when she read it the detective ran back in to make sure she was okay.

"I already packed my clothes. Anything I left behind you can donate or throw away." I handed her my keys to our, make that her, apartment and walked away. I never looked back.