I Told You, Eli Oxley

Chapter Twenty-Five

My police officer uncle told me one time that when he was going through his training, the instructors had each of the recruits line up side-by-side while they maced them. When I asked him why, he told me that it was to see what it felt like so that they could understand the power of the weapon they carried, to ultimately give them a greater awareness of their responsibility to the citizens under their jurisdiction. "Also, just to mace us," he said.

"Did it hurt or sting?"

"Like a bitch."

I give you this little anecdote as an introduction to what happened next in my story. Brett and JT told me how stupid I was when I returned to the car despondent.

"Why don't you just wait until she gets off work and talk to her then, ya big dummy," Brett said.

"I guess that would work," I said, my hope easing back.

So I did. David finally hobbled back to the car in the same condition as the first time he came out of Rusty's and let me know that she was done with her routine. After another twenty minutes of waiting, Lacey came out the front door.

I jumped out of the car and crossed the street without looking in either direction (Kids, always remember to look both ways when crossing the street). I made it to the sidewalk and was about ten yards behind her.

The funny thing here is that I had a crazy premonition. I knew she was going to do it. Yet, there was somehow nothing I could do to change the outcome.

Well, I could have done a number of things differently. Namely, I could have at least dodged the stream of mace coming at me. But alas, things don't always work out like you would like them to. Shit happens, as they say. And this definitely fit into the category of shit.

My uncle was right. It stung like a mother-trucker. I instinctively began gagging and slobbering uncontrollably all over myself. And she just kept spraying, even as I was on my knees covering my face and eyes and practically crying and definitely screaming a high-pitched girly scream. I think the only reason she stopped spraying and ran was because she was out of mace.

***

Brett was pretty helpful - he took off his shirt and helped me wipe my face down. JT and David, on the other hand, were in hysterics. Laughing. So, still on my knees, I punched David in the balls, and he joined me on the pavement. I would have done the same to JT, but he would have probably kicked my ass. Instead, I endured JT's unsympathetic howls of laughter, both at me and now David.

***

I didn't want to be around any of them that day, so I had them drop me at my house. I slid inside with my head down and swifted to the bathroom to take the most glorious shower ever. My entire face was red, like I had worn pink eyeshadow and cried until it streamed and smeared down. Or maybe it was more like a Cherokee with war paint, not unlike the face paint Lacey herself was wearing on stage. After my shower, though, only my eyes were still red and puffy, but I felt better.