VAnishing Act

Talking quietly, trudging through the clumps of snow and ice, neither one of us heard him at first.

“It’s getting to the point where I just want to stay home,” she said quietly.

“You can’t hide, Linda. If you become a prisoner in your own home, then he wins. And you are much too strong a person to let that happen.”

 She gave me a wan smile. “I know, it’s just…”

“Hey!” a gruff voice snapped at us from only a couple of feet away.

Linda let out a shriek of surprise. She lost her footing on the ice and crashed to the pavement. I saw a blocky shape, hidden in the shadows beyond the reach of the overhead lights. He took a menacing step forward, one hand clutching something tightly and extending it towards us.

 “Run!” I screamed.

“Hey,” he snapped again.

I took a step toward him and planted my left foot on one of the few dry patches of pavement. Then I swung my right foot as hard as I could, as if I was about to nail a fifty-yard field goal to win the Super Bowl. Without realizing it, I braced for the impact. To this day, I’d swear I was aiming for his crotch. Maybe the pavement wasn’t dry after all. Or maybe suddenly shifting my weight to make that kick caused me to lose my balance. Or maybe I couldn’t really kick a guy in the balls. Or maybe he sensed what was happening and he took a step back.

In my peripheral vision, I could see Linda scrambling to her feet, already racing toward her car, clicking the remote control to unlock the doors. My leg continued its arc and just before making contact, my left foot shot out from underneath me.