by Bill Tope
"I didn't even know his name," she whispered softly. She looked at me. "Do you know it?" she asked. She had bright green eyes.
"Johnson," I said gruffly.
She nodded.
"Can you tell me how it happened?" I asked.
"I met him on the bus. We talked. He seemed nice."
I waited.
"He said, do you want to get a coffee, so we could talk some more.”
"You got off at the stop on Rogers?"
She nodded but said no more.
"What happened next?"
"We got our coffees at the McDonalds and then strolled to the park. We talked for a while and then I looked around and we were suddenly in the woods. He...grabbed my arm and twisted it. I tried to yell but he put his hand over my mouth. He started to rip my clothes off me."
"You're doing good," I told her. "How did it end?"
"He had me on the ground and was on top of me and I opened my purse with my free hand and pulled out my pistol and stuck it in his belly and pulled the trigger three times..."
I waited a minute. "And then?" I prompted.
"And then the police came. Someone in the park must have heard the shots and called them."
I held up a transparent evidence bag with a Glock inside. "Is this your gun, Caroline?" I asked gently.
She nodded.
"You're the legal owner of this weapon?" I asked. I had already checked the registration and the databases. She was legal.
She nodded again.
"How did you happen to be carrying it?"
"Habit. I always carry it with me, everywhere, ever since the first time."
***
Bill Tope is a retired public assistance caseworker; construction laborer; line cook at Hilton Hotels; and one-time nude model for university art classes. He lives in the American Midwest with his mean little cat Baby.