A Beautiful Mistake Downstairs

"There's something I think you should see" I told him.

He had barely walked in the door and was making his way to the coat rack when I said this.

"It's just ... well, Frank just go look. Please?" I continued.

If it weren't for the sincere look on my face he would have thought this was a joke, and as much as Frank enjoys a good joke this would turn out to be quite the opposite.

"It's downstairs. I have no idea how it got here or what it is exactly but you need to do something about it." I finished.

"Whatever 'it' is, honey, I'm sure we'll all be just fine." he said as he made his way through the foyer and into the hall. He opened the door to the basement and flipped on the light.

No dice.

"Bulb must be out. Honey could you get me a new one?" he asked, continuing down the stairs.

"Sure thing, hon. Just a sec" I replied, then offered, "It's just to your right. Do you see it yet?"

"No, Martha, I can't see shit. Grab me that flashlight in the pantry, would you?" he said.

I walked into the pantry as instructed and fished the 2 foot-long Mag lite from the utility drawer. I flipped it on and then off again to ensure that it worked before making my way down to where Frank was.

When I approached him with the flashlight he was standing with his back to me and mumbling something unintelligable.

I grinned slightly.

For a 38 year-old woman I swung that flashlight with amazing force. It made contact right where I had intended, across Frank's right temple. I thought I might have to swing again but soon realized that one hit was all that was needed. He immediately fell to the floor and remained motionless.

It all took place beautifully; Frank was out cold and appropriately so, considering where his home for the next few days would be.

His dead weight was a lot to work with but I did what I could to stuff him into the meat freezer we used to keep our venison fresh. I'd worry about his disposal later.

I remember there being no blood. I remember the adrenalin causing involuntary shaking of my hands and knees.

I also remember looking down to the floor at my weapon, thinking:

Wow.

These Mag lite things are very well made.